A beggar's book outweighs a noble king's blood.
-William Shakespeare 

Celeste successfully got me to wear a tight long sleeve, it's a light blue and she said something about my eyes but I was more focused on trying not to punch her than actively listening.

The only reason it was successful is because I wanted her to shut up and this way I wouldn't have her try to put me in a dress and I could wear whatever pants I wanted -I choose some simple ripped black skinny jeans.

Today it's odd that I'm feeling good and good about myself, so Celeste was more than happy when I stepped out in that.

She squealed when I didn't reject the black matte stilettos she managed to find in the previously organized and completely unnecessary walk in closet that's attached to my room.

Since the stilettos have a five inch heel, I'm actually as tall as Celeste at around 5'6.

Now I'll probably eye level with Asher's pecs, something I don't mind.

I prefer this height actually, and always curse myself for never growing taller but I couldn't help that right when I was supposed to hit growth spurts and use up some of the height my dad gave me I was kidnapped -my body obviously didn't appreciate that much.

But I'm dragged to parties all the time, so I have dresses and lingerie and shoes that are perfect for it, I just don't feel like wearing it much.

Celeste always feels like dressing me up.

What I actually disappointed her by was when all I did with my curls is brush them out and throw it in a messy bun.

For once I feel relatively attractive, and it's not the clothes or the shoes, but because of the competition, because I know this is something I just can't feel at and I'm getting cocky but it feels good.

I feel good.

So when I hear Asher's laugh I can't help but to smile, slipping in the room to find Xander talking fast. I have a feeling it's my idiot brother's facial expressions that got him to laugh and not his words.

Because, in short, Alexander is lame.

Then again, I could just be biased as his sister.

...nah.

He's lame.

Eventually the nice guy notices me leaning against the wall, just watching him with a smile. It's both confusing and amusing when I see how he goes from humor to shocked in a second.

"You're smiling!" Asher excalims, standing to face me. 

The couple shares a look. 

"And?" I quirk up a eyebrow, definitely not expecting it when he leans in and kisses me doesn't stop me from kissing him back, though it's barely long. It quickly turns into a grin, making him pout slightly as his eyes instantly focus on my lips.

"Hmph." Asher huffs at me, but leans back into me once again. I nearly roll my eyes. "You stopped." He murmurs against my lips, making me chuckle.

"Can't be sunshine and rainbows all the time Gold, was that the kind of smile you liked?" I ask, referring back to our other conversation.

The golden boy nods, holding me close by a hand on my lower back. "That's exactly how I liked it. Not as hard as it seems, eh?"

"No. Sometimes it's not hard at all. It can be easy, even"

If I'm looking at you that is.

"Easy it is then."

Celeste has already sung her song, Pardon Me by He is We, and she did a awesome job.

It's cool to see how much she improved, I felt bad for a split second when I realized I'm still going to win and have to turn it down either way, then I made the guilt go anyway because if I won, it's because I earned it.

Mason is on currently on stage, singing a song called King.

"Cut cover, take that test. Hold courage to your chest. Don't wanna wait for you. Don't wanna have to lose."

The crowd doesn't look super happy with it, like when Celeste was up there, but they don't look completely disinterested.

Shame, I really hope after he tripped Xander in front of all of them they'd turn him down but I was wrong.

Assholes.

Tsk.

"All that I've compromised to feel another high. I've got to keep it down tonight." 

God damn after this I'm going to have to get high, Mason as a whole puts me in a sour mood.

"And oh, oh, oh, I was a king under your control. And oh, oh, oh, I wanna feel like you've let me go. I had to break myself to carry on."

I think I'll have to carry myself right on out the doors. This jackass even brought a fake plastic crown, and one of his friends made a show of putting it on when he announced the song name.

"No love and no admission Take this from me tonight. Oh, let's fight And oh, oh, oh I was a king under your control, I wanna feel like you've let me go."

I wanna let you go too...right over a volcano. He honestly makes me mad, like I'm going to hurt him mad. 

"So let me go. Let go, let go, let go of everything."

My clap is slow, my smirk is something my mom would call feral. As I lock eyes with Mason he knows it's because I'm happy it's over, and I'm mad at him.

The jock gulps, eyes narrows at me before he bows quickly and takes a seat again.

Asher was more than shocked we're willingly going to a public, school-kid going singing competition at a small, family run cafe. He was more surprised when Celeste said she was going to win, somehow not having caught on we're both going to be performing.

I still haven't told him that I'm doing it, neither has my brother or the crazy angel girl.

Mason was second to last, because I've won before they've always stuck me until last in case some people left early and it'd give others a better shot at winning.

Yeah, fat chance.

Asher is sitting between me and Xander, Celeste in his lap as we calmly watch from a table in the back. My guitar is already on the back portion of the stage, just like all the other performers instruments.

"And now we have our last singer, the fifth year campion and unbeaten performer, Eliza Wolf!"

I'm announced, and just like that the jocks bursts into laughter, whispers go around the room at my name. 

My move isn't hesitant, but slow, as to show I really don't care and could take all day if I wanted. The smart ones would stay.

The small, fanged smirk I let the crowd see is all it takes for tension to set it the air before the lights are even dimmed, a small beam aimed towards the stage from the back -letting people only see my silhouette if I was up there.

Already I see people leaning forward, focusing their attention on me. The few people who aren't look at me and doing something else I know will stop the second they hear me, I've never not had a room's attention while I was doing something like this.

Asher is gaping at me, I send him a wink as I make a show of lowering the microphone and moving the stool in front of it.

I hum into the microphone, my gaze flickering around the crowd as if I was choosing my prey. At this the jocks still, knowing I have kicked nearly all of their asses. 

"Now, now. I need a little something before I start," I raise a eyebrow, biting my lip as I stare directly at Mason before I walk closer to him with my dark blue instrument in hand. "My song's Long Live The King with a little twist." 

Spinning my guitar it lightly, landing it in my arms as the strap slaps my back. I did it so close to it's fang that one of the tuners caught on his crown, making it hang dangling off the end.

"Hey-"

"Shh." I whisper, giggling as I slip back into the complete darkness around the tables. The giggle sounded maddening, but cute.

Devil's daughter, I suppose.

When I emerge on the stage the crown is on my head, I sit with my smirk intact and start strumming on the guitar until I get the rhythm of my song.

Everyone's head has snapped towards me, finding me the most interesting thing in the room.

And it's before I even sing.

When I do, that's when they know they're not going to be able to look away.

"I'm getting tired of your disrespect. Well, it's evident I'll always be the best. Whether or not you're being serious or say it in jest, I've got a licence to right; you haven't passed your test." 

I spit the words, glaring towards the jocks resigned table.

"Yeah, I'm good with words, and you're fucking chronic. Forever second fiddle, you're weak, I'm savage. Is this the baddest I can go? I can get much badder. I've been doing this since you were in your Huggies, hold your bladder." 

Mason shrinks in his seat.

"You've been studying me, wetting yourself, cause you're afraid when I rise, you'll be left on the shelf. Where you belong; with the rest of the wannabes. Don't ever ask me to support you, you can never follow me."

He knows this is directed at him.

"I've been holding my tongue for a fucking while. Sat back, watch you parade my style. Lock him in a prison for plagiarism, nobody wants to listen. Chavs dying, might as well kill him a pretender."

I'm not holding back, I know Celeste is recording this whole thing, so do the people working at the cafe.

"To the crown, turn around, sit down; I'm the queen. Long live the queen, Long live the queen, Long live the queen, Long live the queen."

It's going to be all over the school by Monday.

"Anything you can do, I can do better. Even when he's rock hard, I could him throb harder." I wink at Asher, and though I can't see if he does I know he's burning red. "Stop try'na make me look bad, so you can be taken seriously. What makes you think I give a fuck what people think of me?"

And I really don't care.

"You disrespect me now I'm obligated to destroy. Why would anybody go to war with men? You're just a boy. Nothing to write about so put your Barbie biro down. Save yourself embarrassment, fucking football clown."

But he does, because he's the captain. He's their leader.

"You making moves cause you be mollycoddled silver spoon. Your skills are average, good at copying, carry a tune. All the gear, no idea, brother's bank account. And when it comes to your abilities, small amount."

Their king.

"When you compare it to what I can bring, it's minuscule. You're the pupil; I'm the teacher, go back to school." He really knows nothing. "You have to be in possession of the limelight for me to come and take it from you, why don't you get it right?"

If this was a fight, I would have delivered every blow.

"I've been holding my tongue for a fucking while. Sat back, watch you parade my style. Lock him in a prison for plagiarism, nobody wants to listen. Chavs dying, might as well kill him a pretender."

And he has to sit there and take it.

"To the throne, turn around, sit down; I'm the queen. Long live the queen, Long live the queen, Long live the queen, Long live the queen."

I'm not taking his throne, but I have the crown. 

And I'm done with his bullshit.

"Long live the queen." I repeat this about five times, changing the tune and tempo until the last one is a harsh, beautiful shout.

This is me letting him know, if he continues to mess with me.

He'll be destroyed.

"I've been holding my tongue for a fucking while. Sat back, watch you parade my style. Lock him in a prison for plagiarism, nobody wants to listen, chavs dying, might as well kill him a pretender."

I've never been one to jump at the chance to defend myself with extreme measurements.

"To the throne, turn around, sit down; I'm the queen. Long live the queen." But this has gone on too long. "Long live the queen. Long live the queen. Long live the queen. Long...live the queen..."

I trail off, the light going out.

In those fifteen seconds I place my guitar back down, off the stage before the strobe light even turns back on so they can announce the winner.

I'm in my seat without anyone being able to see me do it, making everyone at my table jump as the light turns on. Around the room people gasp, shocked to have me just, not be there.

And to have a dazed Mason have a crown shoved on his head, something I did when I went past him.

"Long live the king." I declare, raising my drink in his direction.

The jock glares at me, but doesn't do anything.

Screw the king.

I'm queen.