Word count: 1052
"urghhh ..I fuckin' hate school."
That was the first thought that crawled into Belle Corsini's head as her alarm screamed her awake.
She lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, hair fanned messily over her pillow, mascara smudged faintly from the night before. Her phone buzzed beside her—notifications she didn't bother checking. School. Again. Hallways. Again. Eyes. Again.
She had decided to forget about the incident that happened the previous day.
'I'm probably just seeing things' she had said to herself the previous day.
Maybe it was.....or maybe it wasn't
"Maybe it's all in my head....I'm seeing things, definitely" was all she could say after the encounter.
She groaned, rolling out of bed.
Getting ready was muscle memory at this point. Shower. Lip gloss. A little eyeliner—sharp enough to bite but not enough to scream effort. Her hair stayed loose today, dark and glossy, falling down her back like she didn't care… even though she absolutely did. Outfit: fitted black skirt, oversized hoodie slung off one shoulder, boots that clicked with purpose. Mafia princess or not, Belle knew presentation was power.
The hallways of the nightmare —Aureli's university— was as noisy as always —lockers slamming, laughter bouncing, whispers pretending not to be about her. Some faces softened when they saw her. Others sharpened. Pity. Curiosity. Fear. She hated all of it equally.
"Belle?"
The voice came gently, almost careful.
She turned to see Mrs. Halden, one of the junior teachers, hovering near the lockers just down the hall way with a stack of papers pressed to her chest. She had kind eyes. The kind that lingered too long when they thought you were hurting.
"I just wanted to say… if you need anything," Mrs. Halden began, lowering her voice, "my door is always open."
Belle offered a tight smile.
Polite.
Practiced.
"Thank you," she said, already stepping away.
Pity was heavier than hate. She didn't want it following her to class.
That was the last thing she wanted.
The school board had already done enough by doing nothing.
They had reduced the case of her nudes being circulated, which to her was a case of serious sexual harassment, digital abuse, and Non-Consensual Intimate Image Sharing —she sure had done a lot of research— to a case of common friendly prank.
According to them they didn't want one of the school's highest investors to go to jail. Imagine.
She Initially wanted to tell her dad to file a complaint for her so that he would suffer in jail since it's a first-degree misdemeanor in her country punishable by up to 5 years —according to the law— good thing Jayce wasn't a minor cuz it would've been worse anyways, she thought against it.
She didn't want the problem of court calls and the paparazzi being involved in the case as it could ruin not only her's but her dad's reputation entirely.
The day dragged. Math. Literature. History. Each period blurred into the next until Belle felt like she was moving underwater. She was getting very impatient by the minute. She really needed the perfect scene to execute her plan and the opportunity wasn't coming.
Then came art class—the only place that felt… quieter.
Mr. Louis, the art teacher, barely glanced up as she entered, just nodded toward an empty stool near the window.
He was tall, paint-smudged, forever smelling faintly of turpentine and coffee.
He didn't pry.
Didn't whisper.
Just watched the way she worked, the way her hands moved like they knew something her mouth didn't.
She sketched without thinking—sharp lines, broken shapes, fire-like strokes she erased almost immediately.
"Good pressure today," Mr. Louis said softly as he passed her desk. "Your lines are… honest."
Belle blinked, surprised. Then she nodded.
That was it. No questions. No judgment.
She liked him for that.
The bell rang, snapping the spell.
Chairs scraped. Voices rose.
That's when chaos collided with her.
"YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE ABOUT TO COMMIT A CRIME."
Belle barely had time to react before someone slid into the seat beside her like a hurricane wrapped in leather.
The girl grinned—wide, bright, unapologetic. Neon pink nails drummed against the desk. Blue dyed hair was tied high, curls bouncing when she moved. Everything about her was motion.
"I'm Liora," the girl said cheerfully. "And before you ask—yes, I talk too much, no, I don't care, and wow, you have resting murder face."
Belle stared.
Then, despite herself, she snorted.
"That was… aggressive."
Liora beamed. "Thank you."
They walked out of class together, Liora talking the entire time—about teachers she hated, parties she definitely shouldn't attend, rules she'd already broken twice this week. Belle barely had to speak.
"You're quiet," Liora said suddenly, glancing at her. "But not in a boring way. More like… you're choosing violence internally."
Belle smirked. "Something like that.
"I like you," Liora decided instantly. "We should be friends, best friends" she squirmed in excitement
Very delusional, thought Belle
She shoved her phone into Belle's hand without waiting for consent.
"Put your number. Don't overthink it Bestie."
Belle hesitated only a second before typing it in.
The rest of the day felt… lighter. Not easy. Just less suffocating.
By the final bell, Liora leaned in close, eyes sparkling. "There's a party tonight. Loud. Messy. Absolutely irresponsible."
Great, this was the perfect opportunity she'd been looking for.
Belle arched a brow trying not to look desperate "I don't do parties."
Liora gasped dramatically. "Tragic but very Fixable."
"I'll pass." she didn't want anyone seeing through her plans, especially not a blue headed-hyper-crazy-stranger...no offence.
"Come with me," Liora said, suddenly softer but no less intense. "Just for one night."
Belle looked down the hallway. Pretending to think of her room. The silence. The staring ceiling. Although she felt excited inside.
"…Fine," she said. "Maybe." she finally agreed
Liora squealed. "YES. I'll text you."
As Belle walked away, phone buzzing almost immediately, she didn't know why—but for the first time in days, she didn't feel like disappearing.
And that scared her more than being alone ever had.
After school, she told her Dad about the party and he agreed, even saying he was very proud of her cuz she was going to be attending her first college party.
And truth be told, she was very excited.