Tapping his thumb on the steering wheel of his car Richie’s eyes were focused on his phone again. Particularly the gray bubble with three blinking dots on the screen. He had sent Vanessa a message as soon as he had put the Cadillac in park while he waited for his friends to come out of the giant house. For some reason, he had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach from their call this morning. But Vanessa assured him that she was just in a rush to get to class. Richie decided he was fine with her explanation, he didn’t want to be that clingy boyfriend who didn’t trust his girlfriend just because he wasn’t there to check in on her.

As soon as he pocketed his phone he heard his name being called. He whipped his head up and saw that it was Marcos’s sister Trixie coming down the road with her brother trudging down the walkway behind her, his signature brooding face plastered on him. Richie flashed the girl his wide pearly white smile as he jumped out of his car and gave Trixie a friendly tight hug.

“How’ve you been Trix? Haven’t seen you in a while” he let her go as Marcos came closer and switched his attention to his main boy. “You alright there buddy… tough morning? Did Trix beat you in pullups?” he asked with a wink wrapping his arm around him slapping Marcos’s shoulder hard as he did.

"He’ll live, he’s just grumpy. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed. As for me,” She glanced up at Richie, with tender admiration (he was the angel on her brother’s shoulder), "I’ve been alright. Spent a lot of girl time with my mom, ‘specially during Labor Day weekend. We saw Aunty Julie—” who resides in Beverly Hills, California, "—and spent the whole time at her spa.”

Trixie smiled to herself, knowing well enough she needed that time because who doesn’t like doing self care things with their mom? "Luna—” One of her cousins, “—wanted me to ask you if you were single yet, but don’t worry I told her you are dedicated, loyal, and in a loving relationship! There was a tinge of jealousy briefly on Marcos’ sister’s face, which was clear that she didn’t enjoy her cousin talking about relationships and such. One day she’ll have herself a good boyfriend, but for now, for her papi she had to focus on her studies.

The blond boy let out a chuckle, the one time Richie had met the Kingsley’s twin cousins Luna had been quite intense with her intentions. ”Well thanks for informing her for me”

“Where’s Aiden and Liv?” Richie asked looking behind the pair, where the Howard siblings were shining with their absence.

Almost as if the mere mention of the blondes summoned them, Aiden’s Jeep raced around the corner in true reckless fashion, tearing down the quiet street as Liv held on for dear life in the passenger seat. As always, he had grossly underestimated how long it’d take to get there, this time forgetting the construction zone that had conveniently popped up over the weekend on one of the main roads. He sped into the Kingsley’s driveway, not even waiting for the car to gently roll to a stop before cutting the engine.

“We’re here!” Aiden shouted out hurriedly as he quickly opened his car door and tumbled out. He looked down at his phone to check the time, noting that it was not a minute past when Richie had asked them to be ready for pick up. It was also not a minute earlier. Take that, Diedrikson! “We’re not late, we’re here!”

“Good, you know how Richie rolls. We would’ve left you two behind.” Marcos grinned, his mood slowly but surely shifting now that he was surrounded by family. He took a moment to punch his friend’s arm and joke, “Ready to see the hot selection? I’m sure you’ve been dying for some of that after labor day weekend.”

“Yeah… definitely…”

Meanwhile, his sister pushed open the passenger side door and stepped out gracefully, revealing an unmistakable pissed off expression on her face. “Drive any faster… I dare you.” Liv uttered, almost looking nauseated with the speed her brother had driven them there. She smoothed out her dress before walking towards the Cadillac trying to stabilize herself once more from the rollercoaster of a ride she didn’t sign up for. “I swear to god, Richie, if you drive anything like my brother I’m getting out of the car and walking.”

“No one drives like your brother…” Richie’s eyes flicked to Aiden’s mud-stained Jeep and then back to his best friend.

Not wanting to waste any of Richie’s time, Trixie quickly tossed her phone to her brother, "Pictures! Come here, Liv.” The small latina grabbed her bestie and made sure that their backdrop was of her estate’s landscape and not the cars. "You look gorg. Rosefell won’t even know what’s coming for them.”

“Okay, in three… two… one…”

Liv’s expression changed from annoyed to carefree in two seconds flat as she smiled and posed for the camera with Trixie. If there was anything that could lighten the mood she was in, it was an impromptu photo shoot. After a few pictures, she pulled her brother into the frame, having promised her mother that they’d take at least one picture together. Aiden tried to look happy, but in all reality he just wanted to get to school as soon as possible so that he could finally see Fiamma.

After only taking a single picture, the blonde boy clapped his hands together, “Okay, that’s enough, let’s get this show on the road.” Realizing how unlike the usual non-academically inclined sounded, he blurted out a false statement. “Don’t want to keep the ladies of Rosefell waiting.” Liv rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should get going. Maybe my daily post will be a picture with Fi.” Marcos nodded, as he gave his sister her phone and swiftly claimed shotgun. “Shotgun, by the way.” Marcos updated his instagram at least once a day and the type of picture had to display some kind of message, so maybe it should be with the one girl that could put up with him. He didn’t have enough Fi on his page, which probably made him look like a bad friend.

"Looks like Aiden is sitting in between me and Liv!” Trixie teased, as she gave Richie a thumbs up that they were indeed ready to go.

“Great…” Aiden commented unenthusiastically. Whether he was referring to the fact that Marcos was going to post a picture with his girlfriend or being squished between his sister and Trixie was unclear to the group.

Richie held the door open for the girls and Aiden making sure they were all settled and belted before he flipped his seat back and got in himself. The Cadillac purred into action as soon as Richie turned the key and he pulled them out from the Kingsley driveway. The drive through town went smoothly mainly because Richie knew Columbus like the back of his hand from cruising around clearing his head.

As their new school came into view the driver looked to Marcos with a slight worry in his eye. It really looked worse than he had imagined. But as always it was Richie’s job to keep morale up high. So as he parked his car he exclaimed “We have arrived in our new kingdom, let’s get to ruling!” he turned to smile at the girls “Try not to get into too much trouble, huh? Your brothers are going to bitch too much if you do” he winked at them before jumping out of the car and letting them out of the back seat.

Liv smirked, slipping out of the backseat with ease. “No promises!” She chimed, grabbing Trixie’s hand and pulling her away towards the front entrance of their new “school”... if you could even call it that.

“Hey, Richie, keep my brother from making a fool of himself and Aiden: don’t be a bad influence.” Trixie waved goodbye, hooking her arm around Liv.

“We’ll meet you guys back here at the end of the day, see you later!” The blonde called over her shoulder as the two disappeared into the mass of students.

Aiden shook his head with a laugh, stretching out his legs after being cramped in the backseat for the majority of the ride. As much as he loved his sister, leaving her to her own devices was… risky. The boy took a good look around for the first time, the other cars in the parking lot signaling that they were not in the Emerald City anymore and unfortunately transported back to Kansas. “This is Rosefell? I always passed by here and thought it was a condemned mental institution.”

Richie just shrugged his shoulders before grabbing his bag and casually throwing it over his back. “Let’s just… you know… go in” he laughed at his own lack of enthusiasm and started to lead the trio towards the school entrance. As he looked around he tried to look as pleasant as he could smiling at the new faces trying to make as good of an impression as possible.

While his friends were in a rush to enter the awful building, Marcos scanned the lot and spotted someone hiding in their car. He grinned, “Let’s pick up a little mouse first.”

The blonde boy followed Marcos’ eyes to the familiar white Fiat that sat on the opposite end of the parking lot and a smile instantly appeared and lit up his face. She was here! Deciding to be selfish, Aiden turned to his friends a little too eagerly. “I’ll go and get her! You guys go ahead and scope things out. We’ll be over in a few.” He stated all too quickly before pivoting his heel and sauntering over to where Fiamma was parked.

Richie raised an eyebrow as he watched the normally lazy Aiden spring into action with renewed vigor as he almost jogged across the parking lot. He stared after him for a while before continuing on with Marcos. “We should find the people that are supposed to show us around” he fished his phone out to check his emails again “Mines named... eeeh… Eleanor Roberts, who did you get?”

“Man, you got a girl. Lucky. I got this guy named JayVaughn… let’s find your person first.”

For the majority of the student population of Liberty and Rosefell high schools, the time to make their grand entrances across the gates and to the Rosefell building was now. The pint-sized goth girl named Stephanie Cross was most certainly not one of them. Instead, the young woman was busy smoking a blunt in the street corner, impatiently waiting for the bus that would take her to Robert's Auto Repair. In normal circumstances, Spice would ask a friend for a ride to school and to the shop, and pick up her car at a later time. But towards the end of spring and the beginning of summer, ‘going to get her car worked on’ had become something of a hobby. Namely, ‘getting her car worked on’ by a mechanic/drug dealer named Ricky Quinn.

To the very few people that knew of the entanglement between Spice and Ricky, the topic was a sore one that was met with plenty of discomfort and disapproval. Not only were the circumstances between their initial meeting questionable at best, but the seventeen-year age gap and the fact that he was the father of her very first Rosefell fling pretty much topped the long list of reasons as to why they shouldn’t be involved in the first place. But Stephanie Cross wouldn’t be Stephanie Cross if she started to care about the opinions of the public. If she wanted to start off her day with a dose of Daddy Quinn magic at his boss’ auto shop before driving off to her first day of school, then she would do exactly that.

But damn, this bus really was taking for-fucking-ever to finally freaking arrive.

Five minutes later, an oh-so-familiar purple Honda Civic came cruising down the street, travelling north, straight to her. The engine had an efficient hum, was clearly well oiled, and glimmered in the morning light, thanks to an ultimate shine car wash. There was only one person who would have the audacity to pick up her car, without her permission. The closer the vehicle got, the clearer the view became. There in the driver’s seat sat a man Stephanie Cross knew all too well and it wasn’t Ricky Quinn.

With his thick, lustrous brown hair slicked with gel to go into a blowout, strong and defined facial features, and a smouldering, sly smirk, a mysterious man, who went by Tate Paxton, pulled up in front of the damsel in distress. When he came to a full stop, parking her car, he brought the window down. His infamous smug smile was all that could be seen until he leaned closer to the window to see her vexed expression.

“Oye! Morning Kitten. Beautiful morning, isn't it?” His beard was growing out, which only meant one thing. His schedule was busy and he took some time out of his week to drive all the way from Cleveland, just to see her. As he scanned her up and down, his eyebrows raised, liking what he saw. After a long, intimate moment, he rested his light brown gaze on her enticing face once more. “Who would’ve thought we’d go to the same guy, aye? Not me that’s for fucking sure!” he halfheartedly joked. Subconsciously, he tapped his right hand on her wheel three times, which was a subtle sign of his irritation.

"What the fuck, Tate?!" Stephanie cried out, her small face dripping with disbelief. Out of all the faces she’d been expecting to see on this day, Tate Paxton’s was certainly the last one on her list. In normal circumstances, she would be thrilled that Lover #1 had shown up to take her to school. She hadn’t seen Tate in weeks-- and although they’d been in constant communication via scandalous texts and Facetime calls, it was never the same as when their bodies melted together behind closed doors.

But under these bizarre circumstances, with him arriving in the car that was supposed to be under Ricky’s supervision back at the shop, it was very hard for Spice to get past the initial shock of it all. “There is no way in hell you come all the way from Cleveland to Columbus every time your stupid car needs to get fixed. And can you please fucking explain to me how the hell you got your hands on my damn car when it's been locked at a shop you have no knowledge of for three days?!”

“You want me to explain?” Turning off her car, Tate pulled out the keys and tightly clasped them in his right hand. After opening the door with his free hand, he stepped out with his polished and clean black oxfords silently dropping to the cement street. Tate being dressed in formal wear wasn’t usual for him unless he was in the middle of something important, that he cut short, to be here. “Yeah, I’ll tell ya.”

Throwing her keys up in the air and catching it, he chuckled, “Imagine me, minding my own damn business, giving you the space you need to spend time with your cute best friend-- lovely girl, by the way, that Aramintah-- letting you be. Just be. Freely.”

He paused and shook his head and sighed, “Imagine—” Once again the keys went up in the air and back down in his hand. His attention never wavering from her face. “—I’m calling a good friend of mine and finding out,” The keys went up once more. He rolled his eyes at the thought that came to mind and instantaneously swatted the air to catch them. One last time. “he’s a good friend of yours too. A really good friend of yours.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, along with her keys, he leaned in forward, his intense brown eyes locked with hers, and a smirk on his face. “Just thinking about it, what are the chances, right?”

Stephanie’s reply was instant. "The same chances of me driving to Cleveland to surprise you at the club and walking into your office to find your tongue down your new house mom's throat," the young woman spat without missing a beat, flipping back some locks of her long black hair while mirroring Tate's own smug smirk. How could she forget about the incident that had put an end to their budding relationship? "Imagine being so pressed about who I choose to spend my time with after going behind my back throwing what we had out the window. And imagine having the lack of common sense to show up to where I live to imply that I owe you any sort of explanation. I'm not your girlfriend, Tate. You made that very clear to me that day a few months ago. So whoever I fuck or don't fuck is absolutely none of your goddamn business. You have no fucking right to question shit.”

What a minx she was. He liked when she got all riled up because of him. “Is that so, love?” Standing up straight, he took his right hand out of his pocket but instead of her keys, he had his phone in his hand instead. The one with the only number she had of his. Clearly, Stephanie forgot who she was talking to.

Ah, but of course.

Who would he be if he didn’t give her what she wanted? Tate heard her loud and clear. “I got one last one for you.” He waved his phone in front of her face, dangling it pridefully, sadistically, “Imagine a world—” No texts, no calls, no surprise visits, no sex, no nothing. “—where I’m gone.” Dropping his phone to the ground, he stomped on it with his dominant foot. Forcibly and only once, but enough to make Stephanie flinch. “Ricky can have you.” Purposely instilling fear in her, he smoothly bluffed, “And he’ll thank you later, for costing him his job.”

With that, Tate took her keys out of his pants pocket, tossed it at her feet, and turned on his heel, leaving her behind. Whether she believed him or not was entirely up to her, he didn’t care. Tate could disappear completely and she would have no idea how to trace him. She knew that. He could put all those she loved in danger, if he truly wanted to, like her dear best friend. She definitely knew that. Last but never the least, he had all the power in the world to ruin Ricky’s life, just with the snap of his fingers. She just learned that.

Spice was playing a dangerous game and she knew exactly what she was getting herself into, the day she met him. Without using his fingers, he whistled loudly and in came a Bugatti La Voiture Noire. One of Tate’s employees sat in the driver’s seat. As he opened the passenger door, he turned to look back at her and for a split second, his mask dropped and he showed a shed of conflict and withdrawal, before entering the vehicle and smirking once more, “Goodbye, Kitten.”

The door closed.

For a moment, Spice simply stood there, mouth agape at the absurdity of it all. This man had really driven over two hours to confront her about a relationship they didn’t have. The same man who had made it crystal-clear to her that they were not-- and had never been-- an item was really out here throwing a bitch fit, wrecking phones and making threats because he’d found out she’d moved on with somebody else. And, for a split second, Stephanie felt guilty about being the cause of his terrible mood with her actions.

But then that red-hot, blinding anger that always simmered underneath the surface of her being suddenly erupted, running down her veins like boiling lava. Who the hell did Tate Paxton think he was, anyway: coming out here demanding the faithfulness he wasn’t willing to give back, and making her feel like his appalling behavior was his fault. No, sir. It wasn’t her fault he was a deceiving pig who wasn’t able to keep it in his pants. And it wasn’t her responsibility to be loyal to a man like that.

Fuelled by the raging thoughts of how absolutely unfair this entire situation was, Stephanie knew she couldn’t let Tate go just like that. One quick scan of her surroundings led her to a particularly large rock nearby, and the goth girl suddenly knew exactly what she would do next. She bent down, wrapped her small hand around the rock, swung her hand over her head, and threw the rock in the direction of the luxurious car’s back windshield with all the strength she could muster.

Crash!

The sound of shattering glass erupted through the otherwise quiet street, sending the neighborhood dogs into a barking frenzy. A few curtains from the houses nearby fluttered slightly open; nosy neighbors peeking out their windows with concern or curiosity over what they had just heard. But from Tate Paxton’s vehicle? No reaction. It drove away slowly and completely unbothered-- just like its owner had been when dismissing her as easily as he would a used Kleenex tissue.

And that fucking hurt

“I fucking hate you!” Stephanie screeched at the retreating car, loud enough to potentially cause damage to her vocal cords but being much too enraged to care. “I fucking hate you, you arrogant, cheating piece of shit! I hope you run that fucking car of yours off a cliff and just fucking die already! FUCK YOU!!!”

But no matter how hard she screamed, the stupid Bugatti continued to drive away without a care in the world; leaving behind a sobbing, broken-hearted goth girl with mascara-covered tears of fury streaming down her beautiful face.

Forty-five minutes before the warning bell of Rosefell High was scheduled to go off, the sounds of the Disney Channel Camp Rock movie soundtrack could be heard from behind the closed door of the bedroom that once belonged to the now newly-engaged Charlotte Diedrikson. Inside the room was a lavender-haired young woman, singing and dancing along to the music coming from her phone’s speakers while browsing through her potential outfit selection. Finally, she set her sights on a spaghetti-strapped, flower-printed red mini dress, and a matching pair of white and beige wedges. One glance in the mirror made her question whether the length of the dress was appropriate or not, but the girl merely shrugged and pushed the worries away. If the school had anything to say about her wardrobe choices, they could take it up with the big bad wolf lawyer downstairs.

Giselle Seara’s morning routine was much like every other teenage girl’s was: a nice warm shower, a skincare routine, a brushing of the hair, a few generous spritzes of her fruity Escada perfume, and a little makeup to highlight her natural beauty. Once the motions were over and done with, she raced downstairs to the dining room, eager to put an end to the fierce growling of her stomach.

“Hi Auntie Kole! Hi Uncle Warren!” Gigi said cheerfully, wrapping her arms around her uncle for a quick hug before doing the same to her aunt.

“Morning, sunshine!” Nikole greeted her niece, planting a kiss on the girl’s head before letting her go and pointing to an empty seat at the dining table. “Your breakfast is already served and ready: an organic smoked salmon bagel with cream cheese and spinach and a glass of freshly-squeezed lemonade, as requested. I hope you like it!”

Smiling, the young woman skipped to the table, took a seat and immediately dove right in. “Shoot, this is amazing! I’ll make sure to thank Lorna when I see her at dinner later,” Giselle gratefully noted through a mouthful of bagel, speaking about the lady who cooked the meals of the Diedrikson household.

The girl was halfway done with her breakfast before she realized there was someone missing from this scenario. “Where’s Richie? I thought he was giving me a ride to school this morning,” Gigi asked with a small frown of confusion settled on her freckled face, looking around the room for a second as if her blond cousin would magically materialize out of thin air.

Kole looked up from her phone. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?” she asked her niece, who vehemently shook her head. “He left a few minutes ago to pick up his friends before driving to the new school. But don’t worry, sugar cube! I told him I’d drive you to Rosefell myself! Won’t that be fun?!”

From across the table, Gigi and Warren exchanged silent looks. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Nikole Diedrikson was something of a ticking time bomb behind the wheel. She had a record of vehicular accidents dating back to her teenage years-- so many of them, that it was a miracle she hadn’t had her license suspended yet. Since getting the new position as Vogue editor in chief, Kole had taken full advantage of the company perk of getting her own personal driver-- which had not only saved the lives of numerous squirrels, trees, cars and inanimate objects alike, but had also provided her family with the relief of not having to live in constant fear of getting the news she’d crashed into yet another row of shopping carts while backing out of the Whole Foods parking lot. And as entertaining as Giselle had always found the endless supply of embarrassing stories, it certainly didn’t mean that she wanted to actually be a participant in the latest one.

But with how excited her aunt looked to be about driving her to school and spending some quality time together, there was no way Gigi would break her heart by asking to take an Uber. She’d just have to take her chances and hope for the best.

“Oh yeah! Definitely! Sounds like a blast!” she said sweetly instead, giving her aunt a smile before taking advantage of her distraction to mouth the words save me! to her uncle. Warren merely chuckled under his breath and shook his head as he took another sip of his coffee.



Five minutes later, Nikole and Giselle were racing down the streets of Columbus on the older woman’s Mercedes GLB, bringing all sorts of amused attention to themselves by the speed with which they drove and the EDM music blasting through the speakers. The two women laughed, danced, and sang their way to Rosefell, with Gigi using the opportunity to make content for her Snapchat and Instagram stories. It was while they messed around with the face-swapping filter that they failed to notice a dark-haired young man crossing the street, and Gigi barely had time to yell out the words:

“Auntie, watch out!”

With a loud “Eek!” and an even louder screeching sound, Nikole abruptly slammed on the brakes of the Mercedes, violently jerking both women forward but stopping just in time to avoid a collision with a young man standing right in front of the SUV. Hearts racing and eyes wide with shock, both women exchanged horrified looks, letting out a variety of high-pitched shrieks while wildly flapping their hands. This right here was exactly why Nikole Diedrikson was not allowed to drive anymore.

After the initial shock had worn off and her death via cardiac arrest wasn’t imminent, Giselle unbuckled her seat belt and hopped out of the luxury vehicle. “Oh my God! I am so sorry!” she cried out apologetically, rushing to the young man’s aid with her iridescent-manicured hands covering her mouth. From inside the car, an anxious Kole was making gestures of concern and mouthing the word ‘I’m sorry!’ over and over again. “My aunt is a terrible driver-- _{but you already know that, clearly…} Are you okay?! Did she actually hit you anywhere?! God, Uncle Warren’s gonna throw a fit if he finds out...”