AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm trying to keep the flow of this story consistent to Disney's Beauty and the Beast. There's no magic involved here though...trying to make it as realistic as possible.
Disclaimer: To my heart's dismay, I do not own any offspring of the creative minds at Disney.
She walked down the hallway trying to settle on a song to listen to on her iPod. It was early on a Wednesday morning, and it was her first day as a senior in a new high school. The hallway was beginning to show signs of life as she saw the early-bird students heading for their lockers. Occasionally glancing up from the device to make sure she didn't have a head-on collision with anyone or anything, it was surprisingly easy to find her way to the head office on a huge campus such as this. Plus, the big red sign with the word 'office' in bold wasn't that hard to notice. She put the iPod away and took a deep breath and opened the door. Inside, there were three desks, each with a different woman typing away at a computer. She approached the first desk she saw and spoke.
"Hi. My name's Annabelle Stock and I'm new to the school." The woman on the other side or the desk looked up at the girl over her red-rimmed glasses. She pushed them back with an equally red-lacquered finger and pointed at another woman sitting in the desk behind her.
"She can help you, sweetie. I only take care of attendance. Ms. Leones is in charge of new admissions." Annabelle thanked the woman and wondered if she should offer her a lozenge for her smokers-cough as she walked in the direction to the desk of a petite blonde who looked young enough to be right out of university.
"Hi there. Can I help you?"
"Yes. My name is Annabelle Stock and my dad called earlier this week to let you know that I'd be going to school here this year."
"Well, welcome to Castleton Heights!" The smile on her face was genuinely welcoming and Annabelle felt a little more at ease. After dispatching and receiving several pieces of information, she headed off to find her locker and was amazed at the transformation of the school. I couldn't have been in there for more than 10 minutes, she thought. The hallways were now filled with girls squealing because they hadn't seen their friends since last Saturday, guys pushing each other around and seeing who got more jacked over the summer and the typical nerdy kids who looked as if they just wanted to get through this day without getting beat up. Annabelle sighed and pulled out her iPod again to drown out the zoo-like noise assaulting her ears. As she walked through the maze of students, she didn't notice them stopping to look at her. She accidentally bumped into a boy with a big guitar case and some of his books fell to the floor. Annabelle stooped down to help him gather the mess while apologizing profusely, but was met with a pair of blue eyes glaring back at her. He ripped a sheet of paper from her hand and stormed around a corner near the end of the hall. Trevor Gaston, who had swerved away from his swooning female horde to get a look at the scene unfolded in front of him, realized that the girl with her back turned to him was the new 'fresh meat'. She stopped at a locker just a stones-throw away from his and he couldn't believe his eyes.
She was hot!
He looked her over from head to toe. He usually had a thing for blondes (any type of blonde), but this one had dark brown hair in a ponytail that nearly reached the middle of her back. The rest of her wasn't built too badly either. She had a woman's body, full and ripe like a tasty piece of fruit. What I wouldn't give for a bite of that, he thought smugly.
Adam Hawthorne peeked around the corner to get a look at the girl who bumped into him. He saw her concentrate as she tried to figure out the combination to her lock, her pink tongue showing through her strawberry-red lips. Her face looked slightly frustrated as she attempted a second try to unlock the contraption and finally, success. A smile touched her mouth as she opened her locker and placed her sweater inside. Adam opened his own locker and tossed his books inside, not caring that they might tear. Dad can afford to pay for it anyways, he thought bitterly. He placed his guitar carefully inside; making sure no idiot classmates of his ruined the one thing that meant anything to him. Before closing the door, he glanced around the corner again. She was still there, looking through her bag. He closed his eyes and pictured her face in front of his. Big, brown doe-like eyes set in a round face flushed with a light pink from the embarrassment of colliding with him. Her hair framed her face so you could see her slightly high forehead. He sighed as he ran his fingers through his long red-gold hair, making it messier than it had been before. She was beautiful. He had seen many pretty girls before, mostly the debutante-type because his mother constantly arranged play-dates for him when she needed a dose of society gossip from the other mothers. Until she left, that is. More like ran off, Adam thought bitterly again, with that Italian idiot. His mind wandered (as it often did) as he recalled standing on front of his the door to his father's study at the tender age of 13, listening as his mother stated that she wanted a divorce. He remembered his father's booming voice,
"Divorce? DIVORCE? So you can run away with that race-car driver of yours to go gallivanting all over Europe? You seriously can't be that stupid, Ingrid."
"Don't sass me, Vincent. He has breathed life into me again. I have a reason to go on, but not with this charade. We both knew that this marriage was over a long time ago. I can have adventures with him, while all you've done is lock me up in this house-turned-prison!"
"Mansion, my dear…and don't forget that YOU are the one that chose this 'prison'. And I don't seem to recall you ever complaining when you walk through the front doors with an armful of bags from some designer stores I really couldn't care less about."
"Spending your money was the only thing I could do in this hell-hole!"
"Oh, really? What about oogling the pool boys as you lounge in a chair in a swimsuit that, might I add, is a little too risqué for someone your age? Oh, don't give me that innocent look, Ingrid. I know that this Italian is only another notch on your belt. I know all about the others."
"Oh, and you're the epitome of innocence! I know about your liaison as well with your secretary. Face it, Vincent. I'm leaving you with or without a divorce."
"You seem to be forgetting something, dear. Adam."
"What about Adam?"
"If you leave me, you'll be leaving him too. I wont give up my son; if you go, he stays." There was a long silence and Adam heard his mother's low chuckle.
"Oh, really, Vincent. I can't take him along with me. It would be such a bother to try and live life with a child to worry about at home. Not that I could do much with him here anyways. Besides, I was going to send him to a boarding school in England at the start of the new school year. Now if you're done with the threats, darling, I'd like to pack my things and leave this godforsaken life behind." Adam heard footsteps approach and quickly leapt into the shadows. He watched his mother's flame-red hair trail behind her as she walked out of his life, but the boy felt no sadness. He clutched at his heart and his face grew red with anger. In a seething voice, low enough for only the shadows to hear, he said,
"I hate you."
That was his goodbye to her. This woman who gave him life and now disappeared as if she were only a hologram never showed him any affection. He didn't care. She was gone now, and it was as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Adam turned to the study and stood in the doorway and watched his father as he poured himself a drink of brandy. At least now we have each other, Adam thought. Vincent Hawthorne turned around to see his son standing motionless, seeming to wait for some kind of acknowledgement that he mattered in this situation at all. But instead of opening his arms to give his some a comforting embrace, Vincent sighed and faced his window. The boy was dejected. He realized that in this world, there was no one there for him. His mind twisted into thoughts of hate and contempt for all those around him, vowing never to let anyone get close to him. It would only cause more pain.
When the maids opened the door to his room later that week to clean, they were astonished at the sight they saw. The walls had holes in them from where Adam had been punching and kicking to let out his frustration. His pillows were torn to shreds, his bed rumpled. Pictures had fallen to the floor, glass scattered on the carpet and any family photos lay ripped to shreds all about the room. Crouched in the corner, Adam looked up at the maid who called his name softly. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles; he looked as if he hadn't slept in days.
"Get out." He said sternly to the two women. When they looked at each other, deciding if they should leave, Adam shot up to his full height and yelled at the top of his lungs.
"GET OUT!"
The terrified maids scurried out of the room and ran to their quarters. They looked at one another in disbelief. One finally spoke, still clutching the rag and bottle of furniture polish close to her chest.
"What has happened to him? The child…he's turned into a…a beast!"
