SUMMARY:
Isabella Swan doesn't know what she's getting herself into when she declares war against Edward Cullen-heir to world-famous chain hotel owning company, Cullen Hotels Inc. What starts out as standing up for her friend quickly becomes the undoing of the prestigious day and boarding school, Mount Marcus Academy and possibly even life as she knows it. AU-AH. Based on the Japanese Drama series, Boys Over Flowers.
Please read chapter end notes for... clarification.
This story is rated M for possible sexual content
(no lemons planned), vulgar language, and some angst.
*****
Disclaimer: I do not own anything but sore and droopy eyes. Stephenie Meyer owns everything else, probably including a good night's sleep.
I was immobilized in front of a tsunami wave, helpless to defend myself against the verbal waves crashing on me mercilessly.
Slut.
All I could do was feel myself slipping under, under the turbulent water surrounding me, pulling me in a thousand directions at once.
Whore.
But I didn't see the storm coming. No, I didn't have that kind of foresight. No clouds, no weather forecaster to let me know ahead of time that I shouldn't have gone to school that day. I didn't have to drown.
Harlot.
There was no way I could've known. Even now, I didn't fully understand how my life could've changed so abruptly.
Wench.
Even in the black waters I could make out his face- a face I hated but loved at the same time. The water distorted the image. His eyes were black, his hair was equally as dark. He turned around- why wasn't the water taking him down too? And slowly made his way out of the wave, unscathed. Physically.
Bitch.
The only thing clear in that moment, other than the tears racing down my cheeks and tickling my nostrils, was the thundering sound of his nine hundred dollar Prada patent leather shoes stepping on the pallid marble flooring; I was sure it was one of his mother's innumerable bribes to the school.
Prostitute.
As I sunk deeper into the black hole, I suddenly became aware of the way my physical body was thrashing about, fighting off the leeches clinging to me. While my body instinctively tried to make its way toward an escape, my mind kept repeating Who? Who? Who?
I saw an opening finally and burst through the surface of the water. I broke out in a sprint down the hallway, my vintage flats tap tap tap ing until I shoved the door open and faced the open air, green and brown mountains going over the horizon of my vision. My feet, perspiring and squeaking against the vinyl flats, carried me to the railing.
Screw-up.
I leaned my torso over the edge and breathed in and out gasps of air. My heart squeezed and my stomach responded, threatening to spill its contents out of my mouth.
Was it really only two weeks ago that I'd been a nobody- nobody's friend, nobody's enemy, nobody's concern? Impossible.
Because Who would care enough to frame me as a
Screw-up
Prostitute
Bitch
Wench
Harlot
Whore
Slut
..Who?
*****
Chapter End Notes:
Ok, so I'm very bad at following through with ideas, and I just wanted to catch this one and go with it before it disappeared. So this was very spontaneous and in the moment. I already have a plot figured out, but what I really need is confirmation- should I go with it? Please review- they motivate me to get out of bed every morning.
