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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: The Girl in the Back of the Bus

People think being a "Goth Baddie" is just about the clothes. They don't see the two hours I spend in a cramped, moldy apartment bathroom blending my eyeshadow just to feel like I have a shield against the world.

My name is Vexie, and today, I have forty-two dollars in my bank account.

I sat on the city bus, my platform boots taking up too much space. A woman shifted away from me, clutching her purse tighter as she stared at my spiked collar. I wanted to tell her I couldn't afford to steal her purse even if I wanted to—I was too busy trying to figure out how to get into the Thorne Fashion Gala without an invitation.

Silas Thorne. He was everywhere. His face was on the billboards, his name was on the buildings, and his cold, "perfect" lifestyle was the opposite of mine. To the world, he's a billionaire genius. To me? He's the man who destroyed my father's small textile shop to build a parking lot.

I reached the gala gates. The models walking in were tall, thin, and dressed in beige. I was a splash of black ink on a white canvas.

"Name?" the security guard asked, looking at my leather coat with pure disgust.

"Vexie. I'm on the list for the 'Alternative Design' showcase," I lied, my heart hammering against my ribs. I handed him a fake pass I'd spent all night photoshopping.

He looked at the pass, then at me. For a second, I thought I was going to jail. Then, he stepped aside. "Head to the service entrance, kid."

I walked in, but I didn't go to the service area. I walked straight into the VIP lounge.

That's when I saw him. Silas. He was standing by the window, looking bored. When he turned and saw me, he didn't look disgusted like the guard. He looked... hungry. Like he'd finally seen something real in a room full of plastic.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said, his voice deep and smooth like expensive whiskey.

"I go where I want," I replied, staring him down. I needed him to notice me. I needed him to fall for me. Because if he doesn't, I lose everything.

"Tellme, Vexie," he whispered, stepping into my personal space, his hand almost touching the lace at my neck. "Are you here to join my world, or to burn it down?"

I smiled, but it didn't reach my eyes. "Maybe both."

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