𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐅𝐢𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲

...🫀...

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕

𝐒𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐍

I sat behind my desk, the weight of the morning pressing down on me.

Flipping through files, I let the monotony of paperwork ground me, each page a distraction from the chaos brewing in my mind. The office in the mansion was my sanctuary, a place where I could control the environment, even if I couldn't control the people in my life.

The door creaked open, and Nate strolled in, his uniform impeccable as always. "We're going to be late," he said, leaning against the doorframe.

"No, we won't," I replied, not looking up from the file.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping closer.

"Looking into something," I muttered.

Nate leaned over my desk, his curiosity piqued. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Violet Gray's school file, including her picture, transcripts, and schedule, laid out in front of me.

He shook his head and sat down across from me. "You are deeply disturbed."

A smirk tugged at my lips. "I know."

"So, this girl shoved an eclair into your face. She's a nobody. What's the deal?" Nate asked, clearly baffled.

I set the file down on the desk, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn't quite articulate. 

Before I could answer, Isabella stormed in, her expression a mix of frustration and amusement.

"He's psychotic," she declared, her short skirt earning a frown from me.

"I like her, Sebastian. So, could you try not to run her off?" Isabella continued, crossing her arms.

I didn't answer, instead getting up and moving around my desk. 

Nate took that as his cue to leave. "I'll just wait in the car," he said, grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

"I'm serious, Sebastian," Isabella insisted, her voice softer now that we were alone.

I walked over to her, trying to keep my emotions in check. "I'm not taking any chances, Bella. Not like last time."

Her face paled at the memory. "She's not Elizabeth."

I flinched at the name. "Don't."

"She's not going to pretend to fall in love with my brother, then break his heart, then blackmail our family," Isabella said, her voice shaking slightly.

"We don't know her, Bella," I countered, my tone hard.

"Violet isn't like Elizabeth. She won't use the time I was in an institution against me. She's not going to blackmail you into paying her half a million dollars, so she'll keep my secret and stay away from us for good," Isabella argued, her eyes pleading with me to understand.

I clenched my jaw, the pain of last year's betrayal still raw. "I don't want to talk about her."

Isabella rolled her eyes and groaned in frustration. "Whatever. I'll see you at school."

She turned and stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind her. 

I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to control the rage bubbling up inside me. Every fiber of my being burned with anger, not just at Elizabeth, but at myself for being so easily deceived.

Rage at being naive, thinking that Elizabeth loved me and cared about Isabella, her best friend for ten years. But mostly, I felt stupid for not seeing what Elizabeth truly was—a snake. 

I let out a breath, opened my eyes, and crossed the room, each step deliberate and heavy. The shadows in the corners seemed to press in, a reminder of the fortress I had built around myself. These walls were my protection, my defense against the pain and betrayal that trust inevitably brought.

The driver opened the limo door for me, and I slid in, Nate already waiting inside. "You okay?" he asked, his concern evident.

"Yeah," I lied, staring out the window as the city blurred past. "Let's just get to school."

...🫀...

𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓

I stood outside Constance Billard St. Jude's, gripping the strap of my bag tightly. The building loomed before me, a fortress of wealth and privilege. Students streamed past, their eyes flicking over me with curiosity and dismissal.

"Vi!" Isabella's voice rang out, cutting through my anxiety.

I turned to see her striding towards me. 

Her school uniform was perfectly tailored, and the plaid skirt and jacket looked more like high fashion than a standard issue.

"Guess who gets to show you around," she gushed, throwing her arm over my shoulder.

"I'm guessing you," I replied, rolling my eyes playfully.

Isabella nodded enthusiastically. "So, ready to meet the headmistress?"

"Well, I didn't have a headmistress at my last school, so..."

"Headmistress Queller is a stickler for the rules, but she mostly stays in her office," Isabella explained.

"I see," I nodded, trying to quell the nervous flutter in my stomach.

Just then, a throat cleared behind us. We turned to find a platinum-haired woman with piercing gray eyes.

"Ms. Kingston, you were supposed to bring our new student to my office," Headmistress Queller said, her tone icy.

Isabella dropped her arm from my shoulder. "I was just about to, Headmistress."

Queller shook her head, then motioned for us to follow. "Come along."

Isabella grabbed my hand, pulling me up the steps and into the school. As we walked, the headmistress droned on.

"Our school is known for giving our students the tools necessary to attend prestigious universities," Queller said.

"She's in a mood because it's Ivy Week," Isabella whispered.

I furrowed my brows, confused.

"Ivy League institutions like Columbia, Yale, Princeton, and Brown, to name a few," Queller continued. "Most of our students will likely attend."

We stopped as the headmistress turned to face us. "We only take in a few scholarship students each year. Know that your being here is a privilege, Ms. Gray. Our curriculum is rigorous, and you only get three warnings. Once you've used them up, I will have no choice but to expel you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," I replied, my voice steady despite my racing heart.

Queller nodded, then continued down the hall, describing the various facilities. "We have inner and outer courtyards, where most students choose to eat lunch, have their free period, or relax. The library has the latest books and computers for your projects."

We stopped outside a large doorway. "This is Blackwood Hall, where we hold assemblies, graduations, choir concerts, and more. You arrived during Ivy Week. Representatives from Ivy League institutions are visting our students. Your transcripts have been given to the representatives, giving you the same opportunity as everyone else."

"Thanks, I guess," I said, trying to absorb everything.

"Headmistress?" Isabella interjected. "You forgot to mention the merger."

Queller sighed. "The school used to be divided into St. Jude for boys and Constance Billard for girls. Five years ago, it was decided to merge the schools to create a bigger lacrosse field. Now, our halls are filled with both boys and girls."

She handed me a folder and a small black book. "This has your schedule, locker number and combination, and our handbook."

She glanced at her watch, then opened the wooden doors. "The assembly for Ivy Week starts in five minutes. Find your seats."

Isabella pulled me into the hall, guiding me to a seat in the middle. "As I said, she's in a mood."

I placed my bag on the floor and flipped through the book. My eyes widened. "This is over 500 pages."

"Don't worry. I'll send you the cliff notes," Isabella said with a wink.

Murmurs echoed around the room, and Isabella rolled her eyes, glaring straight ahead.

I turned to see what had caught her attention and saw Sebastian and two brown-haired guys walking into the hall. 

Despite myself, I couldn't help but notice Sebastian's muscular build through his school uniform, his presence commanding attention. His dark brown hair was perfectly tousled, and those intense dark eyes scanned the room with an air of arrogance that made my blood boil.

I hated that I noticed.

He was an ass, plain and simple. He was the kind of guy who believed the world should bow at his feet just because of his title and his looks. But there was no denying he was attractive.

Infuriatingly so.

The kind of handsome that made girls lose their common sense, swooning over his chiseled features and broad shoulders.

Isabella leaned closer and whispered, "My brother's a walking red flag. But all the girls think he's hot."

Sebastian's gaze landed on me as if on cue, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. His eyes narrowed slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I looked away quickly, feeling a mix of anger and embarrassment.

I wanted to wipe that smirk off his lips.

The headmistress cleared her throat, and I forced myself to focus on her.

"Good morning, students. I ask all of you to show a little sympathy for our junior class. They are going through Ivy Week."

The headmistress's words barely registered as I stole another glance at Sebastian.

He was whispering something to one of his friends, his expression serious.

What was his deal?

"As is our long-standing tradition, the girls will be in charge of Friday night's mixer, and the boys will provide the ushers for the visiting representatives. For those of you who dream of attending an Ivy League school, this mixer is the most important event of your life," Headmistress Queller said her tone firm. "But no pressure."

"This week will be a snooze fest," Isabella whispered to me, trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't you want to go to an Ivy League school?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I want to go to Juilliard. I'd rather compose music than learn business like my father wants me to." she replied, her eyes lighting up with passion.

I nodded, smiling at her enthusiasm.

The headmistress continued, "To end Ivy Week's festivities at Saturday's mixer, Blair Waldorf will announce the charity her community outreach committee will honor this year."

Applause filled the hall as a brown-haired girl with a headband smiled graciously.

"As you know, we have a new student, Violet Gray. Please make her feel welcome at our school," the headmistress announced.

I felt everyone's eyes on me but didn't shrink under their gaze. Instead, I held my head high, determined not to let them see any vulnerability.

"You all are dismissed. Please return to your classes and don't be late," the headmistress concluded.

The assembly ended, and I got up with Isabella, merging into the throng of students. The noise of shuffling feet and murmured conversations filled the air. I spotted Dan weaving his way through the crowd, his familiar face a welcome sight amid the sea of strangers. 

A genuine smile spread across my face as he fell into step beside me.

"Have you read the handbook yet?" Dan asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Funny. You forgot to mention that it would be over 500 pages," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, sorry," he said with a chuckle.

As we stepped into the cool hallway, Serena approached, looking disheveled. Her blonde hair was tousled, and her clothes were slightly askew, making her look like someone who had rushed out in a hurry.

"Please don't tell me it's over," she said, breathless.

Dan nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty much over."

"Are we missing something?" Isabella asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I meant the assembly," Serena clarified, sighing.

"Alright, no, yeah, it just ended," Dan confirmed.

"Damn it," Serena muttered.

"Good luck," Dan said, heading down the hall.

I watched Serena gaze after Dan. "So, anyone want to tell me how to get to biology?" I asked, glancing at my schedule.

"I have it too, so I'll walk with you," Isabella offered.

"Great," I said, relieved.

I lifted my gaze as Blair approached us, her gaze zeroing in on Serena, who was flanked by two girls smirking at us. "Aww, too bad you missed the assembly. Not that it matters. Brown doesn't offer degrees in slut."

I raised an eyebrow, biting back a retort.

"Real classy, Blair," Isabella scoffed.

Blair rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers, strutting away with her entourage.

"Is she always a bitch?" I asked.

"Pretty much," Isabella replied with a shrug.

Serena turned to me, her expression softer. "Violet, right?"

I nodded as we walked together.

"Don't mind Blair. Most of the time, she'll ignore you. I just pissed her off," Serena explained.

"By doing what?" I asked, curious.

"I slept with her boyfriend," Serena admitted.

"You slept with Nate?" Isabella asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, don't remind me," Serena sighed.

...🫀...

Walking into the mixer with Isabella felt like stepping into another world.

The event was outdoors, and the garden was transformed into a whimsical fairy tale setting. Strings of twinkling lights hung overhead, casting a soft, golden glow that bathed everything in an ethereal light. Gentle acoustic music floated through the air, creating a serene atmosphere.

I noticed Dan's dad and some of his band members playing guitars on a small stage set among the trees.

I walked beside Isabella, taking in the meticulously arranged floral centerpieces and the elegant tables draped in white linens. Guests in designer clothes mingled, their laughter and conversation blending with the music.

"Do you want to be here?" I asked Isabella, trying to read her expression.

"No, but my outfit took three hours to put together, so I might as well stay for at least half of that," she replied with a wry smile.

I laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. "I think I'm going to hang with Dan."

Isabella nodded, but an older woman called out her name before she could respond.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Isabella. Your father has told me all about how you want to go to Columbia."

Isabella's smile tightened. "Did he?" she said, her tone polite but strained.

I took the opportunity to slip away and headed towards Dan, who was serving drinks behind a sleek, glass-topped table in a transparent room with doors open to the terrace. The room glowed softly under the evening lights, a sanctuary of calm amid the bustling mixer.

As I approached, Dan looked up, his familiar, welcoming grin spreading across his face.

"I lost being Dartmouth's usher to Nate," he said, handing me a cup of strawberry lemonade. His voice carried a hint of frustration, but his smile remained warm.

"I see," I replied, taking a sip.

"Isabella invited you?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah."

I turned, watching as Serena approached with a cup of lemonade. Dan's attention immediately shifted to her, his expression softening slightly.

"You wanna go to Yale then?" he asked, his tone almost casual but carrying an edge of something deeper.

"No, Brown. It's just this thing with Blair," Serena replied, her eyes downcast, a frown tugging at her lips.

Dan's eyes narrowed, his tone cutting. "I get it. Since you don't actually have to worry about getting into college, why not make the entire evening about screwing over Blair?"

"Dan," I interjected, my voice sharp, giving him a pointed look. 

Before Dan could retort, a golden brown-haired guy entered the room and walked towards us. Dan held out a cup of lemonade to Serena, but she shook her head, her expression closed off.

"No thanks," she murmured.

He approached the table, his movements slow and deliberate. He picked up a cup, his gaze avoiding Serena's. The tension between them was thickening the air.

"Wait, you're seriously not going to talk to me? Like literally not speak?" Serena demanded, her voice edged with frustration and hurt. "Nate?"

Nate sighed, a heavy, weary sound, and finally turned towards her. "Hey," he said, his tone flat and indifferent.

"Oh! Much better," Serena retorted sarcastically, her voice dripping with bitterness, before spinning on her heel and walking away, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

I turned back to Dan, but before I could say anything, a hand gripped my arm, pulling me away from the table and against a wall near the back of the crowd on the terrace. The forceful movement left me momentarily breathless.

I looked up, finding Sebastian glowering at me, his dark eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine. The space between us crackled with unspoken tension, his expression a mix of anger and something else I couldn't quite decipher.

"Why are you here?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

I lifted my head, meeting his eyes defiantly. "Your sister invited me."

"Why? Are you planning to use her?" he accused, leaning in closer until only a sliver of space separated us.

His presence was suffocating, and I could smell the faint scent of his cologne—woodsy and dark.

I sipped my lemonade, trying to ignore the way his proximity made my heart race. "No. I don't want to go to an Ivy League school. She doesn't either and didn't want to come alone."

Sebastian frowned, clearly not expecting that answer. His jaw clenched, the muscles working beneath his skin. "What do you want?"

"At the moment?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, trying to appear unfazed by his closeness.

He nodded, his eyes narrowing.

"Some space," I replied, slipping underneath his arm and pushing through the crowd just as Blair got on the stage.

My heart was pounding, and the encounter with Sebastian left me more rattled than I wanted to admit.

"Can I please have everyone's attention?" Blair called out, and the crowd turned to face her, the buzz of conversation dying down.

I just stared at her, feeling a chest warm against my back. I could tell it was Sebastian without having to look. He stood so close that I could feel his breath on my neck, the heat of his body seeping into mine.

"You walked away from me," he muttered, his voice a low rumble.

His presence was overwhelming, a magnetic force that made my skin prickle with awareness. The scent of his cologne—earthy and spicy—mingled with the cool evening air, creating a heady mix that made it hard to concentrate. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus on Blair's speech, though her words barely registered.

"Shh, you're being rude," I whispered back, trying to keep my voice steady.

Blair continued, "Every year, our schools choose to support one local institution that we feel benefits our community. This year, our schools have chosen to honor the Ostroff Centre."

Isabella came to my side, her face pale. "What the hell is she doing?" she whispered, her voice tinged with panic.

Blair continued, "This year's choice is a very personal one because the center has helped one of our own."

Sebastian tensed beside me, his body going rigid. "Does she know?" he asked Isabella, his voice tight with concern.

Isabella shook her head. "She couldn't."

I looked between Isabella and her brother, my brows furrowing in confusion.

Blair smiled, continuing, "It's because of their excellent program, which aids so many young addicts and alcoholics, that a student here with us today is clean and sober...at least for now. Can I please have Serena Van Der Woodsen join me on stage?"

Isabella furrowed her brows in confusion. "This isn't right," she muttered, her eyes darting to Serena, who stood in shock, her face a mask of hurt and surprise.

The crowd murmured with surprise and concern.

My gaze was on Blair, who gave Serena a smug look as she reluctantly walked up to the stage.

Blair led the crowd in a round of applause for Serena. "Hi, I'm Serena Van Der Woodsen. I just want to thank my friend—" Serena turned towards Blair, who was smiling at her, "—Blair Waldorf for recognizing the Ostroff Centre and all of the good things that they do."

"Can she do that?" I whispered to Isabella, my heart aching for Serena.

"I think she just did," Isabella replied, her tone bitter.

I felt Sebastian's chest press against my back as he took my lemonade from my hand and drank from it. My eyes widened, and the gesture caught me off guard, sending a jolt through me.

"Seriously?" Isabella asked her brother, exasperation evident in her voice.

Sebastian shrugged, taking another sip, his eyes never leaving mine.

Blair was back at the microphone. "Thank you, Serena. Can we now have Dr. Ostroff join me on stage?"

I tuned out Dr. Ostroff's speech as the crowd thinned, my thoughts racing. Isabella looked furious, her eyes fixed on Blair. "Sebastian, did you drink all of that lemonade yet?"

"No," he replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

Isabella grabbed the cup from him and marched towards the stage. Blair had just stepped off the last step when Isabella purposely tripped in front of her, throwing her drink into Blair's face. The pink liquid drenched Blair's yellow blouse, and she gasped, glaring at Isabella.

Sebastian grabbed my arm. "Come on," he said urgently.

I barely had time to process what was happening before Sebastian pulled me through the crowd, down the stairs, and onto the streets of New York. Flashbulbs erupted around us as paparazzi swarmed, their shouts blending into a chaotic symphony.

"Prince Sebastian, over here!" one shouted.

"Who's the girl?" another demanded.

Sebastian groaned, pushing through the crowd of reporters and paparazzi toward a waiting limo. Bodyguards held the pack at bay as Sebastian opened the door and pushed me inside.

I ripped my arm out of his grip as I settled into the leather seat, glaring at him. "What the hell was that?"

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, sitting beside me. "Merda," he muttered, the Italian curse slipping out.

A loud crash against the limo door made me jump, and I fell into Sebastian's lap. His arms wrapped around me protectively, and I gripped his shoulders for balance, the proximity making my heart race for an entirely different reason.

His hold was firm and surprisingly gentle, the warmth of his body seeping through my clothes. The sudden closeness made my breath hitch, and I felt an electric charge between us. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

"If you wanted into my pants, all you had to do was ask," he quipped, a smirk playing on his lips, the tension between us electric.

"Gross," I shot back, trying to get out of his lap, but his grip tightened, his eyes darkening.

"Look, I know we don't like each other—"

"That's putting it mildly," I interrupted, my voice sharp.

He took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. "But the reporters and paparazzi will follow you if you leave. I'll take you home once my sister gets here."

"Fine," I huffed, glancing at his hands on my waist. His thumb rubbed circles against my skin, sending tingles up my spine. "Can you let me go?"

Sebastian dropped his arms, and I moved to sit across from him, trying to ignore the tension between us.

I crossed my legs, and my skirt rode up slightly, exposing more skin than I intended. His gaze flickered down, lingering on my bare legs. His eyes darkened, a complex mix of frustration and desire that sent a shiver through me. 

I hated how he affected me, how the mere sight of his brooding expression could ignite a fire in my chest despite my better judgment.

I shifted slightly, hoping to break the intensity of his gaze, but he seemed unfazed. The air between us crackled with unspoken words.

"Look," I said, refusing to be intimidated. "Izzy is my friend, and you are her brother. So I'm going to be around."

"For now," he replied, his tone flat, his eyes still locked on mine.

"How about we try not to kill each other?" I suggested, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

Sebastian cocked his head, his intense stare unnerving me. "You don't look like you could hurt a fly."

"You have no idea," I said, smiling sweetly.

I was more than capable of defending myself.

He smirked. "I guess I don't, Principessa."

"Don't call me that," I snapped, not liking how the word rolled off his tongue and made me feel.

The limo door opened, and a flash of lights peeked inside. Isabella slid into the seat beside me, looking exhausted and frazzled. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to compose herself.

"Sebastian, what did you call her?" she asked, her voice tinged with weariness.

He ignored her question. "Did the headmistress catch you?" he asked instead.

"No," she replied, a hint of relief.

"Good," he said, leaning back and looking out the window, his demeanor shifting to indifference. "Portaci a casa."

The limo began to move, and the paparazzi's flashing lights faded into the background. I looked out the window at the passing cars and buildings, trying to ignore the way Sebastian's presence made my skin tingle.

This was going to be a long ride home.