Be My Girlfriend
Prologue
Dedicated to PurpleSkye because I love her so much for smothering my stories with great reviews!
Re-worded, unbeta-ed. I ran it through grammar check but we all know computers are stupid.
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"Akiko," I heard someone speak and I instantly stopped on my tracks. The voice was male—a little deep but still sounding somewhat boyish. The voice somehow sounded a little restrained, as if the speaker was trying to maintain cool. The next words, however, sounded a bit too off and too gruff. "We can still work this out."
Whoa, wait a minute. A break-up scoop? This is big time.
I hid behind a large shrub so I can have a better look at the scene. Who knows what kind of information I might get and tip the media in this? They'd probably pay me for what I know. After all, this school I was dumped into was that kind of institution with students who never fail to hit the newspaper companies. I'll be able to pay my debt to the landlady of my dorm if I used this. I could see the newspaper headlines reading—young love between two heirs of two prestigious companies, separated against their will because of certain family feuds. It'll hit them good but compensate me better.
"No Kyouya," the girl named Akiko bit back firmly as she attempted to remain her own cool. Poor guy.
"It's over. You can have all the fun you want with the host club. I was just another one of your play things, wasn't I? I know you were just using me because of my family."
I leaned forward so I can have a better look at the guy's face—jet-black hair, metal-rimmed glasses, grey eyes, strong jaw—typical pretty boy, I might add. Somehow, I feel a little sympathy over him though.
"Please," he begged and that was all he said. I squinted closer and I could see his forehead wrinkle and his lips tug down to a frown.
"No. I'm sorry."
With those final words, Akiko left, her shoulders brushing against his broad ones as she walked past. For a moment, he stood there quietly, his face a little more emotionless, as if trying to compose himself.
I shuffled forward and closer to the bushes and I could tell that he was disappointed about what just happened. Of course, who wouldn't be? I've been dumped a few times before back in middle school and trust me; the feeling makes you want the earth to swallow you whole.
Snap.
Oh, crap! The twig I was holding suddenly split into two and I froze. Too stunned, I couldn't move a single muscle.
"Is someone there?" he called out. I've been discovered! I pinned my body against the wall in a futile attempt hide myself. Curse it!
"Who are you?"
I jumped at the sudden sound and next thing I knew, he was already looming behind me. "Uhm, I—"
"How much have you heard?" he asked as I stood quiet, unmoving. Don't look at my face . . . don't look at me. I closed my eyes to avoid eye contact.
And then, he did. He shifted his position and held me captured by trapping the sides of my head with both his arms. The back of my head hit the wall and my heartbeat sped up double time. I swallowed hard and knew I'm done for.
"How much have you heard?" he repeated as I swallowed again and looked up to see his eyes. The moment our gazes met, I hastily looked away. His grey eyes were piercing, as if trying to bear holes all over my face. If he had laser vision, I must have melted in a pile of goo beneath his feet.
"I didn't hear anything!" I shouted loudly in reply. I shifted position uncomfortably. "I didn't hear her tell you that you used her for money and that she broke up with you because you were spending so much time with the host club and then—"
A twitch in the eye and a Glower of Doom.
Oh, crap.
I really am done for.
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The backseat of the limousine was cold. The temperature in the car was even colder than that outside. I scooted farther away from my captor as he sneered over his laptop. He was creeping the hell out of me.
"So," he started as he dabbed a certain button on the door panel of the car and a sudden barrier that separated the front and the backseat emerged and hid us from the driver—like in Bond movies. I wonder why people do that very often. "Ashina Rei-san."
I jumped in surprise and looked at him incredulously. With my eyebrows wrinkled, and my lips threatening a frown, I opened my mouth to retort. Kyouya beat me to it.
"What do you think should be done?"
Judging with the tone of his voice, I think I should have to jump off a nine-hundred-foot tower and die.
Yep, at the moment, that sounds good.
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A/N: I'm planning to rewrite my stories this summer, and at the same time make a few more. I have two months left. For those who read this before, thanks for the re-read. For the new readers, thanks for reaching this far. I appreciate reviews, guys.