Bella
Unironically, the bullies left me. I expected a full attack on me, but for some reason, the shameless bullies left me, well, at least for now. I got to learn who the boy who forced me into the contract was. His name was Stefan Lancaster and, as my roommate would call him, Prince Stefan because he was considered the school prince, bad boy, delinquent, the untouchable.
Everything I learned about him was against my will, and it only made me hate him even more. Thankfully, we were in different majors, and the only thing that connected us was general courses, same like his bully friends.
I looked in the mirror, fully dressed in my class uniform. The uniform was a mix of dark navy and deep burgundy, the two colors representing the university's elite factions. The skirt was knee-length with a sharp pleat, tailored to fit perfectly, while the blazer hugged my frame, the sleeves slightly rolled up to show my delicate wrists. A thin, silver chain peeked from under the collar, a small hint of rebellion against the otherwise formal attire.
My hair was styled in loose waves today, despite the early morning, and I tucked a strand behind my ear absentmindedly. My glasses sat comfortably on my nose, adding to the nerdy vibe I embraced. I wasn't sure if it was a defense mechanism or just who I was, but I liked to hide behind them. The whole look was put together, but I still felt out of place in a school like Raventon.
As the day went by, I learned that the learning process at Raventon was just as intense as the rumors claimed. I had barely been in the school for a week, and I'd already written two tests. The grading system was brutal. Students had to constantly study and be prepared for surprise quizzes that could be dropped at any time. The worst part? The results were announced publicly in class, and the student with the lowest score was openly humiliated. Raventon didn't just expect excellence; it demanded it, mercilessly.
It was hard even for me. I found myself scoring 7th in the tests, the first time in my life that had ever happened. In the next couple of days, I tried harder, but I still didn't make the top 5. I only managed to move up to 6th. Students here used study pills openly, pills that would naturally be banned outside. They sat in rows and studied at the same time.
The school was extremely competitive, and I began to fear whether I could match their vibe. What was even worse was that our phones were taken away. Communication with the outside world was limited to a voice note system, which we could use only once or twice a week, depending on our grades.
I was getting more frustrated with this place by the day.
Today was supposed to be my first-ever voice note, but first, I had group therapy. Yes, Raventon took their students' mental health seriously. Childhood traumas were even a required section in the application form. I was nervous to open the door to the therapy room. Since arriving here, I hadn't found a single space where I felt truly accepted, so I feared that even the therapy room, supposedly a place of comfort, would end up feeling just as suffocating.
Well… I was both right and wrong.
The moment I entered the room, my eyes locked with Mr. Dark and Brood himself, the school's enigmatic prince, Stefan. Of course, he had some kind of buried trauma; it was practically written all over him. The moment our eyes met, he tore his gaze away and turned his attention to the soft-spoken professor who was facilitating the round-table session. I counted my steps to the table, head lowered as I pulled out a seat.
The professor stopped speaking. Hands clasped on the table, he acknowledged me with a kind smile.
"Hello, Bella, I'm glad you decided to join us," he said, ever polite.
'I didn't have a choice,' was what I wanted to say, but I decided against it. Lifting my head, I forced the timidity aside.
"I'm sure it's the best part of my admission."
Professor Namjoon, as written on his name tag, chuckled lightly.
"Why don't you introduce yourself to the class?"
Of course. Straightening my posture, I tried to look around the room as I spoke.
"My name is Bellarose Waverley. I major in Neuropsychology and Human Behavior. I hope we all get along."
"A very interesting course of study. Is there a reason why you chose it?" he asked, then seemed to catch himself.
"Actually, how about the other members of the group introduce themselves as well?"
And so they did. One by one, all nine members of our ten-person group therapy session introduced themselves. Well, except one.
And you can probably already guess who.
When he refused to speak after being called on, the professor simply gave a tight-lipped smile and spoke for him instead.
"His name is Stefan V. Lancaster. He is majoring in Neuroeconomics. Third-year."
I nodded awkwardly. The one being introduced didn't even blink. He didn't care about the introduction or even being here.. It made my fake smile falter.
Professor Namjoon asked everyone to briefly share their trauma. And they did. Quiet voices. Nervous laughter. Distant stares. Some opened up more than others, but they all said something.
Except him.
Before the professor could even ask, he cut him off.
"I don't want her knowing my business," he said coldly, nodding toward me.
My fists clenched under the table. Who did he think he was?
The professor, like every other lecturer in this place, brushed his poor manners aside and turned to me instead.
"Bellarose, would you like to share now?"
I scoffed before I could help it, my gaze fixed on the proud one.
"I don't want him knowing my business either," I said.
The room went quiet. Every breath, every shuffle of movement, stopped.
Stefan finally raised his head. His eyes locked on mine. Sharp, unreadable, cold. The weight of his stare made my hands tremble under the table.
But I did not look away.
I was not one of his bootlickers. And I never would be.