"Julian, you idiot. She's from the mafia. That girl kills people — she'll never love anyone."
I went silent.
Now Charlie's sister looked completely insane. Time to end this conversation.
"I don't have time for relationships. Especially not with you. I'm here to study, and I'm not wasting my time on something meaningless."
I glanced at my watch.
"And now, I've got to go."
"These are just stupid excuses!" — the blonde huffed and shouted after me.
"I won't give up until I get what I want!"
I didn't reply. Just gave her a cold, indifferent look and headed to class.
I was already late. The teacher barely glanced at me before continuing to write something on the board.
When the lesson ended, I packed up slowly. Outside, rain was pounding against the windows, and the sky hung low and gray.
"Where's Liza?" — Karen stopped me, glaring like I'd just committed a crime.
"You were with her, I'm sure of it. Why wasn't she in class?"
"How should I know?" — I hissed, annoyed.
"Oh, I'm sure you do!"
"She broke up with her boyfriend in the library. Probably crying somewhere," — I waved dismissively.
"Oh, my poor Liza!" — the self-proclaimed Queen of Fashion gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her cheek. Then her eyes hardened.
"Why didn't you comfort her? What if she does something stupid? You don't know how fragile a woman's heart can be!"
"Why should I? It was her decision."
"You know, Julian, sometimes you can be cruel. No wonder the mafia made you this way," — the brunette said coldly as I walked out.
Her words burned.
Why did everyone think the mafia made me who I am? It felt like, without the Morts, I was nothing.
If that mafia girl and her brother hadn't come, maybe I would've unleashed my anger on the whole school — worse than any of those punks.
I shook my head a few times, trying to push the thoughts away. Suddenly, I pitied myself. And my mother. She raised me to be kind, to love life — yet here I was, slowly reviving the darkness inside me.
"For the sake of the future, great sacrifices must be made,"
I thought as I crossed the parking lot, umbrella in hand. I was supposed to meet a guy from my football team to return his notebook.
That's when I saw him — the king of the school.
Leaning casually against his luxury sports car, waiting for someone.
Instinctively, I lowered my umbrella and hid behind a black SUV. After one single class with him, I already wanted to drown him — or hang him from the tallest tree on campus.
But it seemed Marcello hadn't even noticed me.
A girl was walking quickly toward him — golden curls brushing her shoulders, perfume cutting through the scent of rain.
I recognized her immediately.
One of Vesper's biggest fans. A cheerleader from the Cross King's Way team. Their relationship had become official after the last school party. Photos of them flooded Instagram — holding hands, kissing, smiling like the perfect couple. The school website even posted clips and hashtags dedicated to them.
The fans adored it — one of them had finally "won the crown."
No one dared protest. And those who did whispered about it in corners, out of sight.
What struck me most was that, despite the rain, I could hear them clearly. Unfortunately.
"Hi, my love. Did you miss me?" — her voice was soft and sweet.
I turned slightly — her brown eyes sparkled as she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek.
He hugged her back, but without emotion — like it was just habit.
"Where are we going tonight? Estella's throwing a party — you know, the girl from the Populars. I can't decide what to wear…"
"I'm sure anything would look perfect on you," — Marcello said flatly.
There was no affection in his tone, not even a flicker of warmth.
"Marcello, I'm tired of pretending to be touched by your sweetness," — she said playfully, spinning in his arms.
"You know, I realized something — breaking up is trending lately. Most of my friends dumped their boyfriends this fall. Autumn's just… unlucky for love."
He fell silent, eyes dropping to the ground.
"Blair," — he finally said.
"Oh no," — I muttered under my breath. Here it comes.
"What's wrong, my love?" — she asked, still smiling.
"I need to talk to you," — he said quietly. She blinked, stepping back, her curls bouncing. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze.
"It's… hard to explain. But the truth is, I've been an idiot. These so-called 'loving' relationships — they feel like a game to me. I didn't feel anything. I'm just… an empty shell."
"Are you saying you dated me against your will? I wasted days of my life on you!"
'Another breakup — I can't take it,' a voice hissed inside my head.
"I'm sorry, Blair," — he whispered, moving closer and touching her cheek gently.
"I only dated you because… you reminded me of her."
"Her?" — she repeated, eyes widening. They stood in the rain, locked in silence.
"The girl I was supposed to marry," — his voice cracked.
"She's all I think about. I can't get rid of her — her eyes, her smile, her touch. When I drink, I swear I still feel her body in my arms."
He inhaled deeply, gaze unfocused, lost somewhere far away.
"She's my angel. I'd give up everything just to see her again — even for a few minutes."
"I understand," — Blair said softly. "I've felt the same about you. And I'm glad I got to be with you, even for a while. I knew this would happen — I could see it in you.
Your angel got to you first."
A faint, sad smile touched her lips as the rain kept falling.