Smiling, Blair took another glance at the pool of colors setting over the horizon. A beautiful blend of purples and oranges, pinks and blues painted the sky in a way that made Blair feel alive inside. The sunset never failed to thrill her, as childish as it might be, and the view from the top of the tower was the best.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs of the tower and Blair instinctively turned to see one of the most beautiful guys in the world. He had this amazing wavy light brown hair that seemed perfectly in place even when it wasn’t gelled down and combed. His complexion was cool and flawless and underneath his long dark lashes bright green irises glowed. His mouth was kind of in a half-smile, as if he was constantly looking around to find the beauty in life. Her heart thudded as he straighten his white button down shirt.
Blair wasn’t a believer in love at first sight, but as soon as the boy saw Blair his lips turned up in a full smile. His eyes lit up in happiness and she knew that everything was right with the world. She knew they were meant to be, no matter what, as long as he kept that lovely smile and-
“This is your favorite place too?” the boy asked casually, keeping his beautiful gaze on Blair.
Oh my god, he’s talking to me, Blair blinked and opened her mouth intending to say something normal like “yeah, so you like it up here too?” but instead what came out was “It’s yours?” To make matters worse, her voice had raised an octave.
The boy laughed easily as if Blair hadn’t made a fool of herself, “Yeah. It helps me think.” He walked up next to her and leaned against the edge of the tower. He sighed deeply, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Blair wanted to be the one to pick it up for him.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” The boy smiled at Blair and her stomach started aching from the light tickling of butterflies. Beautiful… Blair prayed that she wasn’t blushing. “The sunset,” he finished, eyes focusing on the horizon once more, ruining the moment for Blair.
“Yeah,” she managed to get out. Yes, normal conversation, normal, normal, normal…
“Sometimes I feel like things will never be this beautiful again,” he sighed deeply, his green eyes closing. Blair felt like she could stare at him all day long, that she could live in that moment and never cease to get tired of the sight.
Suddenly the boy opened his eyes and the moment faded. He plastered his smile on his face once more and turned to leave, bidding his farewell. Blair felt her heart sink and she felt the impulse to run after him and ask him if they wanted to hang out sometime so they could get to know each other a little better.
Her hopes rose even more when he turned on his way down the stairs. “Where are my manners? I almost forgot,” he said, shaking his head and almost laughing. “It would be a great privilege to know your name.”
Blair was disappointed but managed to choke out “Blair” in a way that didn’t sound too forced. The boy’s eyes danced as he replied, his name the most perfect Blair had ever heard.
Groaning, Mitchell lay on the large bed in his dorm room, staring at the ceiling. He had no desire to get out of the room, even though it would be good for him to get some exercise. It was two days before the start of the school year. According to rumors, the reason that you couldn’t travel on a specific day in late August was because all of the Persky kids took all of the seats in flights. Anything about Persky was interesting to the outside world, probably because it was so selective and elite. Not like anything was special or elite about Mitchell.
It wasn’t that Mitchell was horrible at anything, it was just the fact that he wasn’t exceptional, as would be expected from someone of his heritage. Although his parents were kind and didn’t point this out, he felt like he was failing them even more with the tons of invisible pressure they were putting on him. He wasn’t Persky material without his family name.
The day that Mitchell received his acceptance letter to Persky, his parents had been more excited than he had been. To Mitchell it felt like they were dancing to the tune of Huzzah, my Son is Not a Complete Failure No. 348 while Mitchell wanted to lock himself in his room and refuse to leave. He hadn’t even applied to Persky! The letter came telling him of how he was a “person of interest” and how they would be “honored if he accepted”.
(a.) Mitchell didn’t have a choice.
(b.) He had a feeling that the letter was being sarcastic. That meaning, the school wasn’t genuinely interested in Mitchell, it most likely meant that one of the alumni or an influential figure suggested they send a Lyngley to Persky so if he succeeded they would look good.
Ah, cue Huzzah, my Son is Not a Complete Failure No. 349. Come on Lyngley parents, your son has some common sense.
As a result of the events above, Mitchell was still lying in his dorm room, waiting for his roommate to arrive. At first Mitchell had been dreading the arrival of his roommate, knowing the typical snootiness of Persky students. That had been followed by frustration, then anxiety, then fear that he would never come. Now Mitchell was in the ‘just get it over with already and stop torturing me life’ state of mind.
Mitchell sighed and closed his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep.
* * *
A bit later, Mitchell’s eyes opened slowly, taking in his surroundings. The darkness of the dorm room told him that it must have been late evening. Mitchell looked down to see that he was on a bed- the one opposite from the one he had fallen asleep in- that was not normal. Above all, Mitchell noticed the sound of the shower running.
Mitchell’s heart started thumping- call it crazy, but he had no idea if an intruder was in his room, if he had slept through someone breaking in. Childish as it was, Mitchell wanted to hide instead of finding out who the person in the shower was. Maybe I should pretend to be asleep, Mitchell thought but decided against it. He needed to be brave. His heart thumped in his ears, more steady than the panicked thoughts that ran through his head as he slid off the edge of the bed and crept towards the bathroom.
If there was anything that Mitchell had learned from any games, it would be that you shouldn’t go facing any enemy without some form of weapon. He picked up a lamp from one of the nightstands and moved silently towards the bathroom door.
Easing the door open, he crept through the doorway of the bathroom and looked at the spacious marble bathroom. The shower, located opposite the large round bathtub, clearly had someone in it. The running water, as well the the thumping of feet, were a tell. Mitchell swallowed hard, stood up straight and commanded in the strongest voice he could muster, “Who is in here?”
The person in the shower didn’t respond, instead they continued to shower. Mitchell was about ready to call the authorities- who would move him to another bed and shower in his room?
Mitchell had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to let a possible criminal come out of the shower and be prepared to strike, but he wasn’t big on catching them off guard in the shower. Mitchell stood firmly on the marble floor, prepared to strike whenever the intruder might attack.
The shower water turned off and Mitchell’s heart nearly stopped. A few spare drops of water fell to the floor of the shower in melodious plops. Suddenly, a pale hand reached for a towel and Mitchell was about ready to charge when the shower curtain was pulled to the side, revealing a very startled boy all wrapped up in a towel.
If you asked Mitchell who was more startled, the answer would have been unclear. Both boys screamed in perfect harmony as Mitchell nearly tripped sliding out of the bathroom, and the boy, shrieking, pulled the shower curtain back.
Mitchell caught his breath before responding to the multiple screams of “what are you doing?!” and slowly crept back into the bathroom, getting a better look at the person in the shower.
“I could ask you the same thing. Who are you?” Mitchell panted. The boy wasn’t especially big and didn’t look like the kind who would go around breaking into people’s dorm rooms. His pale complexion didn’t have so much as a freckle in sight and resembled porcelain, his caramel-colored hair was cut straight in multiple layers, perfect and neat even when it was wet. His big, dark blue eyes were wide in shock, his mouth hanging wide open.
“Who-,” he sputtered and started scowling, “I’m Prince Noah!”
Mitchell’s expression at the moment was the epitome of confusion.
“In line to the throne? Do you not know anything about history or pop culture? At all?” Noah was fuming, his mouth twisted, although on the inside he wasn’t really that mad, more incredulous. How could anybody not who he was?
“Uh, okay, Noah, are you my roommate?” Mitchell asked, hoping to get past the topic due to the fact that he was feeling dumber and dumber by the minute. Perhaps it was just the condescending aura that the prince gave off.
Noah just sighed, as if he were done being annoyed and that Mitchell wasn’t worth being mad over, and stormed out of the bathroom muttering about how he should be addressed with more respect. Not that Mitchell knew that- he wasn’t exactly fluent in French.
Last day before school starts, Lara thought, looking around at the now-crowded campus. Lara had never been a fan of crowds. Then again, she’d never been a fan of many people. She was small and quiet, used to being alone because her parents were… well, her father was a medical doctor who worked with famed figures finding cures to fatal diseases. Unfortunately, her mother, although she was around a lot, wasn’t exactly what you called supportive. She was a supermodel, European with exotic features. She always was more concerned about looking better than any other family. She was always fussy about how short Lara was, how dark her hair was, how she hadn’t inherited any of her gorgeousness. Lara was so much more like her father, quiet, reserved and genius.
Quite frankly, Lara was relieved when her parents got divorced. Their marriage was dysfunctional anyway.
Her parents remarried, her mother to some famous actor from the eighties, and her father to… well, of course, another model. She was tall and skinny, although Lara thought she resembled a Barbie doll more than anything else. She alternated between styles constantly: some days she would be sporting sleek platinum blonde hair, other days silky golden waves. She always seemed to have matching outfits that were so perfectly made for each occasion. She wore a sailor outfit on a cruise and these large fluffy coats for fancy dinners and glittering diamonds. She was closer to Lara’s age than her father’s. She wasn’t mean, but she was constantly giggling and draping herself on her father’s arm. But if her father was happy, Lara was okay. It wasn’t like she had to spend all of her time with her.
Lara decided to take a stroll and spotted familiar faces: Sean Omar, the other vice-president of the school was sporting his usual suit and tie. Lara had to smile at the fact he was already campaigning against Scarlette Ashworth. Like that would ever happen- Scarlette won everything.
Lara walked past some cheerleaders gathering, hugging enthusiastically as Bridget Maddox whooped and cheered. One of the Lundun triplets, Paris, was hugging her as her sisters, Madrid and Rome set off to their own respective hobbies’ hangouts.
Lara moved into the large cafeteria, or rather, dining room, unaware that she was about to start the story of a lifetime.