Chapter 3

Du Pont manor.

The two-story Versailles inspired French manor stands proudly at the very end of the West wing property grounds. It is a little further away from the rest of the manors, cornered and hidden with oak trees.

The manors of the West wing are naturally larger than that of the East wing and if people of the East find out that some manors, the bigger ones, of the West are literally owned by elite families, protest and jealousy are surely bound to erupt along with their disbelief that instead of a single dorm room which they have to share with a roommate—which they then have to deal with for the rest of the school year—the occupants of the West have one whole estate all to themselves.

For Beca Mitchell, despite the general dislike for school and such, she'd easily choose Victor Barden rather than her family's very own French château. Honestly, anywhere her father isn't in is better and much more preferable, no matter how annoying her cousins could get. Taking her gaze out of the stained glass styled windows, she averts her eyes back to where the others are currently chatting, the topic still being, the Vanderbilts of course.

"It's 'cause they think they are so high and noble than any of us but guess what, they bleed like everybody else!" Nate exclaims, holding his wine glass up in the air as he points outside.

"And they play even dirtier. Royal and noble, my ass!" Nick's voice booms next to Nate's, taking the bottle of blood from Stacie's grasp and drinking straight from it.

Beca silently agrees with a slight tilt of her head to the right, getting a taste of it first-hand years ago herself. The dark memory making her empty her own glass. She raises it towards Nick who pours her more of their favourite drink for her.

This time it's Jesse who raises his hands up for attention as he stands from his seat and dramatically clears his throat. "Alright, alright, attention here. It's already been established since the very beginning of time that those Vanderbilts are low class pretending to be high class, stuck-up, cheating assholes. Now, I don't know about you guys but I certainly am not going to let them bring down the mood," he says with a hand on his chest, the other holding a similar glass as the rest.

"C'mon, it's our first night back at VA!" he points out, looking at his brothers who shrug at his line of thought and motions for him to continue with wherever he is going because from the looks of it, it's about to be get interesting.

"So, the big question is, when are we going to hold this year's first Du Pont party?" he finally asks with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

Stacie's face lights up at the word 'party', biting her bottom lip to suppress the excited grin while Emily and Stella quickly look at each other, the thrill of having their first college party experience getting them all bouncy and giggly.

Jesse then looks over at his twin brothers who still wore contemplative looks on their faces so the youngest Swanson resorts to releasing, if not the most, his bestselling tactic.

"There are freshmen waiting to be guided to the right kind of fun," he sing songs before being rewarded by twins glancing at each other, smirks slowly forming in the corner of their lips.

Nick nods at the idea. From his comfortable looking sitting position in the sofa, he proceeds to move his upper body forward to rest his elbows on his knees like a coach seriously talking about their next game strategy, a mischievous twinkle in his dark brown orbs.

"Alright," he starts. "Shall we then start our 2017 Du Pont Welcome Back to School party?" he asks and although he doesn't say a name, his gaze lands to the tiny female resting at the end of the living room, back leaning against one of the single sofa's arms with both legs draped over the other, elbow propped up on top of the arm rest supporting her back.

At the question, Beca finally pauses the music playing inside her head and brings her full attention to the center of their circle as she begins to lazily swirl the dark red liquid in her glass. Every Du Pont watching and expectantly waiting for her answer.

Finally, she swings her legs down so that her black high-cut sneakers hit the floor with grace. She then stands up, eyeing each one of her cousins before opening her lips to speak.

"A noble bloodline never declines a noble invitation," she begins in a tone between sarcasm and deviousness. "It is a courtesy that every elite is taught since they were born. So, we the Du Ponts, an elite bloodline, cordially invites every other elite bloodline, along with the rest of the community. No exceptions," Beca declares as her lips curve to the side as she emphasizes every word.

She raises her glass as the rest glance at each other with meaningful looks and uncontrollable grins, one big plot already brewing in their minds. In seconds, every drink is up in the air, squeals, shouts and excited giggles erupting inside the Du Pont manor.


Vanderbilt manor.

"This is preposterous!" Aubrey Posen erupts as the Vanderbilts lounge in the solarium of their classic Italian manor earning a sigh from Scott whose eyes are fixed on his laptop. Being a computer major, he had been given or rather, forced to do the task of trying to scoop out information from the enemy and try to figure out their motives.

Usually, it's quiet inside the Vanderbilt walls. There would be light chatting and laughter at times especially during dinner or in any social occasion being held at the grand hall or the Rose garden. The Vanderbilts pride themselves with the peaceful and tranquil atmosphere of their home.

That is until an invitation encased in a black envelope with the red letter's D and P cursively written in elegant handwriting.

The thing is, what could be considered as a simple letter would actually turn a house upside down, specifically the Vanderbilt household.

It has actually been two days since the silent confrontation between the Vanderbilts and their long standing rivals, the Du Ponts. Now, for some reason unknown to mankind and all living mystical creatures, these said rivals are inviting them or better yet, formally inviting them to a 'social function to commemorate the start of the school year' in order to, 'rebuild and strengthen bloodlines'.

The whole thing sounds so sincere and innocent but the Vanderbilts knew the Du Ponts well enough to know that this isn't so. As a matter of fact, it's a challenge. The Du Ponts have claim that they have nothing to hide and now have drawn out their first card, waiting for the Vanderbilts to make their move. Which is either, 'back out like the little cowards that you are' or come here and experience a magical evening with us'. Ultimately, this means, they don't have a choice. Every formal invitation among elites isn't to be considered lightly. Giving out one is actually rare and important. Thus, it should be given the number one priority with regards to bloodline relations, an equivalent to the human term, international relations.

This is now the dilemma of the Vanderbilts.

It's clearly a trap," Claire utters out, looking very displeased at the black invitation laying open on their table at the center of the room. She crosses her legs, her short skirt hiking up even further, and gently plays with the strands of her soft auburn hair.

"The Du Ponts and their noisy animal parties. It's going to be one giant headache," she continues in disgust, rolling her eyes at the thought of being in a party with the Du Ponts while Aubrey paces around behind her, a mix of anxiety and frustration clearly written all over her face.

"Exactly my point! Those impertinent, boil-brained, common-kissing, earth vexing, low lifes are trying to drag us down with them!" she continues angrily, breathing out before closing her eyes to try and calm herself down. Chloe glances worriedly at her. Aubrey has anxiety and panic attacks, a secret only they keep within themselves.

"Easy there. Even Shakespeare is terribly offended by your use of his insults on such species," Arthur points out, lifting a caviar tartlet from the table to munch on, his eyes looking amusedly at his sister.

"We have to be there," Tom suddenly cuts in rather dejectedly as everyone whips their head at him in surprise. Even Scott's loud typing goes quiet, Tom's words ultimately putting a stop on operation 'figure out the enemy's play'.

On the other corner, Aubrey opens her mouth but decides against it after a second and swallows back her protests instead. Every Vanderbilt has to get used to the power Tom has over them as he will be sitting in the Vanderbilt high seat soon, replacing his father.

Beside Tom, Chloe frowns at the idea, unable to hide the detest she feels at the thought of stepping inside Du Pont territory. It's comparable to crossing enemy borders without a weapon or a plan of attack. They could be stabbed at the back the moment the tip of their toes cross the Du Pont threshold and Chloe hates it.

This school year was supposed to be her fresh start. Meaning, finally being able to have unlimited time at Victor Barden with her boyfriend who had been so busy with the family business and other bloodline politics during the whole summer. Its Tom's final year at Victor Barden and this is the only time they have to be like any normal couple before he officially takes over the high seat and joins the blood council. This fresh start also included avoiding anything about the Du Ponts at all cost. She even made sure that all of her classes were Du Pont free.

This party the Du Ponts are suspiciously inviting them to for the first time is going to ruin all of those plans.

"We have to at least show up for half an hour," Tom says in a tired tone. He clearly hates the idea as much as they do but his duties and responsibilities outweigh his personal interest, a fact that he has to live with ever since he was a child.

His tone of finality leaves Chloe without a choice but to resign to the horrible idea that tomorrow night she'd be dining at the other side of their fence, the bad side of the fence. The thought already makes her want to drive a car straight to the edge of the cliff.

"If we are going to garbage land then we better be bloody fabulous enough that even the stench would be afraid to touch us," Claire breathes out.

"And if they bite we bite back, harder," Aubrey adds through gritted teeth, fangs almost baring out in anger.

At this, Tom finally stands up, holding up his glass of blood. "We are Vanderbilts," he says proudly. "We are pure bloods, an elite bloodline and we will not let anyone disrespect our name or step on us," he declares, earning nods from everyone except Scott who looks out of the glass walls into the red roses all around the garden silently but nobody notices as they all wait for Tom to raise his glass in the air to say, "So, shall we party?" as glasses raise up in the air in silent agreement.


It's a quiet Sunday night in the West Wing manors. An unusual occurrence as every Sunday night is considered a time where people walk around the West Wing public area to chat, dine and hang out with friends under the glory of the moonlight. Unlike the East Wing occupants who consider three in the morning as a dead hour where everyone is deep in sleep on the comfort of their beds, the West Wing's three in the morning is a busy, lively hour. But no, tonight was as quiet as a church. The restaurants and cafés are almost empty and the path walks are void of the usual night strollers and evening joggers.

Why so?

The answer is, maybe you're not just at the right place.

The right place happens to be at one of the biggest manors of the West Wing where most of the occupants of the West are currently at.

The Du Pont manor is going all out on impressing everyone tonight, styled and polished to awe people as they enter, making sure that one would bear in mind that a Du Pont party is a party like no other. Guests are in for a glamorous night as diamond and jade crystal chandeliers hung above the high ceiling, red velvet carpets laid out on the hallway leading to the foyer up until the function room overlooking the gorgeous and tempting pool area where some of the guests are now lounging in.

Back inside the function room, high tables are scattered around as guests enjoyed cocktail appetizers and overflowing delicious champagne.

Chloe must admit that the classic and formal atmosphere was something she didn't expect. Funky, laid back, feel good music plays around the house unlike the usual techno and club like party beats the Du Ponts would always blast in their infamous parties. For some reason, tonight was certainly different and somehow worrying, worrying in a sense that this is so unlike the Du Ponts.

Holding Tom's hand, Chloe and the rest of her family finally enter, albeit rather cautiously, the Du Pont manor. This is Chloe's first time inside the place or at least, this specific Du Pont property. In fact, despite the tension between families, Chloe has been to almost all of the Du Pont estates, especially the one here in America, to celebrate occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, wakes, and even when there are council meetings between bloodlines years ago.

Surprisingly to many, the Du Pont property Chloe has been to the most actually happens to be the Mitchell-Du Pont family vacation house. Given that the Beale estate is in the same neighbourhood as the house of the Du Pont's head, it only makes sense that she would be familiar with the place more than any of her cousins. She even knows every nook and cranny of the massive mansion that when shit happens, she'd know every escape passage or panic room to run to. Which also means that if one were to rob the place, they'd probably hire her as their guide inside.

Which she totes wouldn't do because stealing is bad.

However, unlike tonight, being in the Du Pont mansion was never really a problem since every time Chloe finds herself inside said property, she fortunately doesn't come across that particular person she fervently hopes not to bump into tonight, along with that annoying smirk.

For some reason, Beca Mitchell isn't always at home which probably only adds truth to the fact that the young Du Pont does have issues with her father, enough for her not to come home all day just to avoid him. Chloe would know, those celebrations or occasions would last for hours and not even a strand of Beca's hair is to be seen.

Not that she's complaining.

It's a really good thing and she wishes it would be the same tonight.

But of course, Chloe knew that seeing the brunette tonight was inevitable. They were inside Du Pont territory and with her father, Darius' presence non-existent in this party, Beca is surely going to be in attendance. It won't be long until Chloe would again face her greatest enemy and after a minute, surely, Chloe finally comes into contact with a Du Pont.

It isn't Beca though.

Nickolas and Nathaniel or Nick and Nate Swanson, stood up front in a small platform looking sleek and sophisticated in their dark suits and perfectly styled hair, smirks on display as they each held microphones.

"Welcome to the annual Du Pont fête," Nick starts, his voice echoing across the whole place.

"As you've observed, we're starting classy and slow, a far cry from our previous years," Nate continues. "Although, that doesn't mean we are going to end it just as we had started,"

"For our final year here at Victor Barden, we promise to fulfil your partying fix to the fullest," Nick says as he walks a bit, making eye contact with people in the room to emphasize every word.

Whoops and positive screams of excitement fill the room except for the corner where Chloe and the rest of the Vanderbilts stood. She could even almost hear Aubrey roll her eyes in irritation.

"But before anything else, we're going to take a trip down memory lane, just a little moment to celebrate our glory years here in Victor Barden," Nate says in what sounds like the most sincere tone Chloe's ever heard him say, a hand placed on top of his own chest for a full sombre effect.

"Our grandest, craziest and wildest achievements, memories and greatest times," Nick adds as he motions towards the huge screen behind them, "Our legacy,"

The twins step down afterwards, standing next to the rest of the proud looking Du Ponts who supportively give smiles and pats on the back of both Nick and Nate.

It's probably instinct or some unfortunate telepathic sense that Chloe has with her archenemy but from where the Du Ponts are clustered together, her baby blues travel behind the cousins and towards the far end of the room. There stood Beca Mitchell, arms crossed in front of her chest seemingly trying to be discreet as she watches over her family like a protective alpha wolf, which is admittedly a bad description for well, their kind. Werewolves, who are probably out there secretly hanging out in the sun with the humans of the East Wing, aren't exactly enemies—as, again, depicted by those lame human novels—but their relationship with them is sometimes comparable to that of dogs and cats. Frenemies is the usual term.

Anyways, enough of those unruly, stinky dogs and back to the party.

The tiny brunette, surprisingly, has traded her usual jackets and jeans for an elegant, black strapless cocktail dress that hugged her figure, emphasizing her curves and boasting a good amount of skin, truly a rare sight to see. At this point, Chloe has to admit Beca is attractive with those intense dark blue eyes, that unconscious lip bite and shiny chocolate brown hair cascading on one side down her shoulder. And yes, Chloe with all her unbiased and fair perception to everything would admit that much.

It's only a shame that such beauty had to have a black, cold heart that keeps causing Chloe's warm sunny skies to fade and be replaced with snow storms and hail. But casting their rivalry aside, Beca silently looking out on all her cousins tonight makes Chloe wonder if it is something done out of forced responsibility being the reluctant heir and all or an endearing act of care which, in Chloe's point of view, Beca doesn't show very often or if not at all.

At this time, as Arthur Posen yawns shamelessly, everyone else around them is giving quite a number of excited yelps and hearty laughter from the video montage of memories the infamous twins have put together but none of that catches Chloe's interest.

Instead, she observes Jesse Swanson turn around to walk over towards Beca's side to hand her a glass of what seems to be Bourbon. He then proceeds to whisper something in her ear but whatever it was, seems serious enough for Beca to shut her eyes close and exhale heavily before slowly opening them once more. She then lifts up the glass to her lips, brown amber coloured liquid flowing down between the Du Pont's lips. And Chloe isn't staring unabashedly because it looks pleasantly appealing but because she is thirsty for a hard drink as well, yes it's totally just that.

What Chloe doesn't expect, however, is the sudden movement of those deep ocean blues as they quickly connect with her own.

Right, that unfortunate telepathic sense again.

Chloe almost flinches at the unexpected contact. Her first instinct was to look away but she doesn't. She couldn't. It was like some unknown force has their eyes clicked and locked in place. Besides, looking away would make her look like a cowardly low-life thief caught in the act and Chloe is definitely no thief. She wouldn't want to be thought of as one.

Stealing is bad.

The connection only breaks when Chloe's ears catch Claire's murderous tone when she says, "Those despicable Du Ponts," and that's when Chloe realizes that Beca's eyes aren't the only one looking at them. The majority of the room also has their eyes on the Vanderbilts along with sniggers and chuckles. That's when Chloe turns her focus towards the large screen up front. She watches in shock at the exact moment, many months ago, when Nick punches Tom on the face which then, pauses to the slightly distorted face of Tom, mid-punch. It's a hit, hilarious to everyone especially when it evolves into the famous video meme of Tom falling into space, rainbows and beyond. The video then closes to a nice shot of the twins having crazy fun in some club, probably celebrating their birthday with big smiles on their faces and their arms latched on to each other's shoulders.

The video ends with loud cheers. The twins take to stage once more to thank their family, friends and their very good ol' mate, Tom for helping them reach the notorious reputation they've always dreamed to achieve. They then begin to call for 'peace', an end to their feud and Nick's promise of a good friendly fight in the arena. Which to Chloe sounded sarcastic and half-assed. It was unfair, given that they've just embarrassed Chloe's boyfriend which also happens to be the Vanderbilt heir in front of almost everyone in Victor Barden's West Wing.

Beside her, she could feel the huge amount of self-restraint and self-control burning from Tom. His knuckles visibly going white as he grips the champagne glass, a tiny crack starting to form. So, before he breaks it completely, she places a comforting hand over his arm, squeezing it gently. It stops him from breaking anything breakable and with some dignity left in him, he raises his champagne in agreement for peace.

Chloe would have done the same if she were suddenly put on the spot. Tom knew that if he let his emotions run his actions, going berserk and rejecting the proposal, it would only prove how little his level of maturity is, how unworthy of being the heir of the Vanderbilt high seat he is. And everyone in the family knows that, that's the last thing Tom wants. He had been preparing for his ascent all his life so no matter how hard it was, for the sake of his family name, for the sake of his reputation, Tom accepts it, takes it all in and it hurts Chloe to watch him suffer as he does so.

It was that moment that made her slide her hand down Tom's to squeeze it once more in silent reassurance before letting her eyes fall back to that specific corner of the room again. She sees Beca finish the entire contents of her glass in one gulp before quietly slipping away from the room as soon as the music turns up into a more upbeat club mix, Stacie already manning the DJ booth, much to every everyone's delight.

The party starts getting heated and it's making her dizzy. Chloe breathes in deep, trying hard to calm down her anger. She fails and after a minute slips out the room with the excuse to use the powder room.

Walking out, she takes a sharp turn instead and heads up the grand staircase, the scent of a specific DNA Chloe is very familiar with getting stronger with every step she takes. By the time she reaches the second floor landing, leading to the more private areas of the Du Pont manor, she is fuming with every intention of breaking down doors, if she has to, in order to reach her target.

As soon as she turns her head to scan the area she finally finds what or, better yet, who she is looking for caught in the middle of heavy lip locking with some female whom Chloe recognizes as one of the art majors, a non-elite or as Arthur calls them, the regulars.

Impatient and driven by anger, Chloe steps towards them before harshly pushing away the poor female without any remorse. Truthfully, in any ordinary day, Chloe would've been guilty and ashamed of herself but the events tonight has pushed her to her limits and she isn't in any mood to think of others.

Staggering, the pissed off art major instinctively whips her head, ready to give Chloe a piece of her mind, fangs bared and all, only to pause at the sight of a Vanderbilt. Add in Chloe's icy death stare, which nobody wants to mess with, and the female steps back a bit nervously looking at Beca uncertainly.

Well, if she was expecting any kind of concern from this Du Pont, Chloe certainly pities her for thinking that she'd get it. Everybody is just a toy for Beca Mitchell.

On the other hand, Beca, doesn't seem surprised or perturbed at all. Instead, she only looks lazily at the abrupt intrusion, as if she was expecting it all night, tilting her head a bit to one side, eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and curiosity never leaving Chloe.

"I thought Vanderbilts are all about being composed and polite," the Du Pont finally speaks, making Chloe bring back her focus on her main mission. "Because that was kinda' rude, Beale. Not even a fancy greeting for such a beautiful night? Didn't know the soft and sweet campus queen had it in her, a bad bone that is," Beca continues in a tone that only makes Chloe's blood boil. The brunette leans comfortably against the wall, looking all smug and Chloe clenches her fist to keep herself from doing something she might regret.

Breathing in deeply before anything else, she finally finds her voice, "Well, I would've if you're very courteous cousins didn't just release that god-forsaken video online and clearly you don't know me that well because I'm the Vanderbilt who is not going to let it slide," Chloe almost growls in a low tone as she takes another step forward.

Beca slowly throws her head back in response, smiling sarcastically as she rolls her head towards the nervous looking art student, "Wait for me inside the room," she orders before pausing for a second and finally looking back at Chloe. The smirk on her lips fades and that piercing look she throws at her almost makes the redhead retreat.

"No I don't know you at all, never did," the Du Pont replies in a low voice, barely audible but before Chloe could digest the underlying meaning or whether or not there was a hint of hurt behind those eyes something snaps inside the brunette, eyes void of any emotion in seconds. "I didn't make that video nor did I put it up for everyone to see. I'll even give you an A for effort walking up the stairs and all in order to stalk me but unfortunately, you're talking to the wrong person," Beca sneers. She moves to leave but Chloe was quick to place her hand on the wall, blocking Beca's path with her arm.

"They'll listen to you. They'd do anything you say. So, go back down there and make them delete that video!" Chloe demands.

Beca simply turns her head a bit to scoff, "I'm not their mother. Why don't you go back down there and tell them that yourself? Wait, no. Go tell your beloved to do that himself instead of sending his girl to do the job," she points out, an eyebrow arching up as she speaks.

The Du Pont then easily swipes Chloe's arm down like she's throwing away some disgusting litter before continuing on her way and Chloe knows that if she doesn't do anything soon then there's nothing else she could do but helplessly watch Tom try not to drown in humiliation.

"No," she mumbles repeatedly, shaking her head as she stares at Beca's retreating form, a sight all too familiar to her. "Beca," she calls out again but all to no avail.

The brunette already has a hand to the door's handle when Chloe abruptly blurts out loudly.

"Midnight!"

It wasn't intentional.

It just came out of her lips before she even realized what she said out of frustration or desperation, or both. The effect came instantly in waves and before anything else memories buried a long time ago fill up Chloe's head, making her quickly regret ever saying anything.

"When I take my place on the high seat, I'm going to change everything. No more of that fighting. Then I'll bring you with me to France! I'll take you anywhere you want to go, do whatever you want to do and eat everything you want to eat! No more goodbyes, ever. You and me, 'till the end. I promise,"

"I'd love to go do all that with you! I can already see it! You'll be such a great, badass leader someday. The best ever! I't's sad right now... I just don't understand all of the hate between… all of them. But when you do become the awesome leader that you are, all of that is going to disappear. We can finally share a room when we grow up too! Also, you and me, lots of hugs 'till the end. I promise!"

"You and your hugging addictio—oh no…stop…hug…ging…me…too tight—can't breathe… Fine! I promise!"

Chloe tries to blink back unstoppable images of chocolate chip cookies and marshmallows laid out under a starry night next to the weeping willows and overlooking the Du Ponts' secluded Lake of Tears or Lac de Larmes but fails as they continue to assault Chloe's mind. The sounds of muffled laughter and comfortable chatter under hushed tones, making her chest tighten and stunning her completely.

At least it got Beca's complete attention.

However that just not might be a good thing though.

The Du Pont stills at the word, perhaps feeling the same blow as Chloe is feeling. Her hand on the knob frozen in place before slowly releasing it and turning back towards Chloe's direction.

By now the air is thicker than ever, the tension too much, too heavy for Chloe to handle that when Beca's eyes coldly meet hers, her stance domineering that Chloe finally gulps and instinctively steps back.

"Beca, I didn't—"

"You don't get to do that," Beca spits out at her in a very low tone. "You don't get to make demands in my territory, acting like you own the place, acting like you have power over me. You don't," Beca hisses, taking another menacing step forward while Chloe takes another one back.

"And now that I think about it, your beloved Tom is currently hanging at the edge of a cliff," she says in a dangerous tone, nodding as she does. "And the only person standing above him? The only one who can save him?" she lets out a hollow laugh before it fades, her features getting hard and unreadable.

She leans forward to whisper menacingly, "Is the one you're pissing off right now," and Chloe almost stumbles backwards, the hair at the nape of her neck standing. Thankfully, Beca straightens herself and Chloe can breathe again.

"But then, isn't life all about bargaining and survival? Nothing comes free anymore, sweetheart. You want me to save him? Tell me then, what can you possibly have to offer that could satisfy me?" Beca challenges in an angry tone and Chloe finds herself at a loss for words, making the Du Pont scoff instead.

"Exactly," she nods. "You have… nothing," Beca breathes out and moves to turn away but pauses to look back at her again as if she remembered something.

"And don't you ever make the mistake of calling me that disgusting word again," she warns coldly.

Chloe's chest suddenly stings at the words, not expecting that it would affect her at all, not after all these years. Beca finally walks away not sparing her even a single glance leaving Chloe frozen and at a loss. She'd just pulled a couple of old strings there and clearly an angry Beca Mitchell is the last thing she'd want to ever encounter again.

Being loved, surrounded by comforting smiles and warmth, Chloe rarely receives hate or rudeness. If anything, jealousy was the negative emotion she is familiar with as it had always been thrown at her by people who wouldn't admit that they'd all want to be in her position. And before she could make sense of it all, a tear escapes the corner of her eye. She quickly wipes it away and frowns. Everything just confuses her now.

Swivelling to the direction of the stairs, she rushes down, bumping into another shoulder. It was Emily's, one of the youngest Du Ponts. Hazel eyes look at her in surprise and something tells Chloe that she had seen and heard the confrontation earlier. Without any words, Chloe storms away instead.

Dealing with one Du Pont is enough for tonight.

Clearly, coming here was a complete mistake.


A/N:

Surprisingly, I've found out via the comments/review section that an adorable reader skips the story to read what I have to say first. Aww. Throwing you virtual hugs and chocolates your way (hope you like chocolates).

Also to the guest asking if I update every Saturday. I do (also be reminded that I might do it late 'cause I'm too lazy or earlier because Sendrick did a thing that makes us go boom boom pow) so you all can stop pleading for an update the very next day.

Hmm so going back to the story, the plot thickens. Bechloe surely has deep history with each other. So how did it all end up like this? It'll take a few more chapters (a lot of chapters actually). Also, Tom hahahahaha I wish I can show you what he looked like in that video.

Anyways, thanks for all the comments, reviews, follows and favorites you've given to this story. I really appreciate each and every one of it. You all deserve chocolates and kisses... Kisses chocolates, anyone?