Despite all appearances - and actions - Chan was an overachieving guy. He excelled at anything he put his mind to. He was currently the best player on his school's junior varsity volleyball team and was even offered the position of captain on the spot at tryouts.
He was well liked by everyone and it wasn't just because he threw the best parties. He was funny, relatable, and pretty damn welcoming despite all his privileges. Chan could be more of an asshole if he wanted to, but even he had his limits.
Everyone was always invited to party with him, he never singled people out - especially when it happened within his vicinity - and despite his sometimes braggadocious nature, he never set out to make people feel smaller than himself.
But that all changed whenever he got around Azula.
That summer at volleyball camp should've been like any other. Of course he'd screw around a little - he was a teenager after all, he was still allowed to make stupid mistakes. Besides, who didn't think they knew everything when they were 14?
He'd come to know everybody at camp over the years with people returning just as he did every year. They'd made their own little family as they spent the summer away from their parents honing their skills.
Chan could tell that Azula was a seasoned player. He'd figured she was pretty experienced from the skills displayed on the first day of camp where everyone was placed on a team at random and played a "friendly" game to break the ice.
She was the new girl - not that they weren't used to gaining new attendees because it happened every year - but there was something thrilling and dangerously unsettling about her at the same time. She didn't bother assimilating into their established groups. She wasn't afraid to sit by herself at lunch, during training, nor when there were on field trips.
A lone wolf amongst a tightly knit group of people who had become pseudo siblings was bound to set anyone off. It was a no-brainer that they were all curious to know more about this mysterious new girl.
Chan wasted no time in his pursuit. He'd intercept her at water fountains, on the way to the bathroom, in the middle of a serve, just anywhere that he could squeeze in more time to piece together the puzzle that was Azula.
But she was unmoving in her rigidity. Her words always tinged with a venom that came as a shock to the campers. She was haughty and looked down her nose at anyone who dared to just be in her presence. One can only imagine how that'd put a bad taste in someone's mouth.
Chan had given his all for a full two weeks before he'd given up. He didn't know why he was so eager to learn more about her anyway. Even his friends wondered what the hell was his deal. But he did back off…until he found an opening.
He figured he must have worn her down enough that she felt comfortable talking to the other girls without an air of hostility. They'd only asked her an innocent question.
'What do you think about Chan?'
And she'd only responded in that uninterested, flippant tone that she'd come to be known for: 'Completely annoying, but he's not half bad to look at.'
Nothing more should've been made of the comment, but Chan did have asshole characteristics - he was a teenage boy after all. What more could anyone expect of him?
The girls had reported it back to him as was standard for the tightly knit group. They'd only laughed it off thinking it had hurt Chan's pride, but he'd taken it rather well. He'd only wanted to talk to Azula after all. Maybe this would be his opening.
The next day, they were all sitting in the cafeteria eating their gourmet breakfast, courtesy of their camp being owned by their parents' country club. Azula had walked in, head held high and gait long, and was heading towards the line to get a tray.
Chan had intercepted her path and blocked her every attempt to walk around him. In that time, he'd gathered a crowd of onlookers. Azula finally gave in, placed her hands on her hips and sighed.
"What?" she sighed in annoyance.
Chan's mischievous grin crawled its way onto his face. "So I heard you think I'm pretty cute."
"I would never describe you as such."
"Well you did in only so many words," Chan countered.
Azula rolled her eyes, already tired of his bullshit so early in the morning. It only excited him more. Finally! A real reaction from this girl. He licked his lips excitedly as he stepped closer towards her.
"Sorry to break it to you, but I just don't feel the same way about you."
That wasn't what he was planning on saying at all, but it had already come out of his mouth and his friends were roaring with laughter. He'd never forget the way her face fell. A look of stricken insult, melancholy before twisting into one of betrayal and something a little deranged. She never made the mistake of indulging anyone in conversation afterwards.
Chan did try to speak to her after the incident, but the girl could hold a grudge. He should've expected retaliation at some point, but it was nearing the end of summer and neither one of them were closer than they were at the beginning. He had moved on, but Azula hadn't.
His party had come to a screeching halt when the cops came and a further blow was dealt when his parents quickly returned from a trip that they had never even made it out of the airport to go on. It was a hellish month for him in the aftermath. He'd lost all electronic privileges, couldn't hang out or go anywhere fun, was forced to only focus on his studies, and couldn't so much as groan without his parents breathing down his back. He was under a microscope in his own house.
The only reason he'd found out it was Azula was because his parents had described being tipped off by an anonymous source from the camp counselors. Azula was the only one who hadn't attended the party and he knew that she'd become very familiar with the employees in the front office after being publicly humiliated.
She had access to all documents at all times, especially with her father's untouchable status in the business world that partially funded their camp's activities. He seethed for weeks, his teeth grinding against each other until he could feel the enamel being worn down to pieces. It didn't make it any better that she'd been placed in his school and had the nerve to look so smug about everything when they reunited.
Chan swore to himself that he'd unravel the mystery that was Azula one way or another. But this time, it would be for no other reason than to throw her to the wolves swiftly after.
….
It was at a country club gathering that they met again. A week had passed since their public standoff and Chan was itching to start some shit.
It was a formal party with everyone in their suits and ties and best evening gowns. Chan's mother had even dolled herself up with some antique pearls that she couldn't stop reminding him had belonged to some person's name whom he couldn't remember that perished on the battlefield.
Everything had come in one ear and out through the other. The boy was still begrudged about having to wear a stuffy suit and shoes that pinched for the next five hours.
The party was coming along nicely. They were only an hour in and most attendees had arrived and began buzzing with all kinds of gossip and network speak. Chan couldn't be bothered to keep up with any of it. All their hoity-toity talk made his head swim and if he really needed to network his mom could do all the talking for him. She sure could talk his ear off for hours on end if left unperturbed.
The dim lights of the ballroom skewered everyone's sights. Aside from the gentle pink bubbles of light that appeared whenever the tech crew felt like a pop of collar, no one could see you if you were up to something devious.
What a perfect opportunity for Chan.
Once he made sure he was out of sight and earshot of his parents, he tiptoed his way over to the refreshments table. There was punch and water and other drinks that were appropriate for someone his age, but if all the adults didn't have to deal with this bullshit while sober, then why should he?
Unfortunately, there was a bartender waiting dutifully to be asked to make drinks - as it was his job - that deterred Chan from making any further moves. He ran a few possible heist scenarios through his head before discarding them all in frustration.
Fuck! Why did underage drinking have to be so difficult?
He surveyed the parameters of the room before his eyes landed on the glass mirrors behind the bartender's station. He could clearly see a loose bottle of something he couldn't quite make out that would easily be within hand's reach if he brushed past it. Even better for him was the long hall leading to the restrooms that he could slink down undetected with the bottle in hand.
Chan smirked. This would be like taking candy from a baby.
A crowd formed at the bar and Chan thought it best to strike now. The bartender looked visibly overwhelmed and the boy could only muster a twinge of sympathy as his hands masterfully slipped around the neck of the bottle.
No one made a peep as he shoved it up the sleeve of his jacket and walked with his left arm unnaturally pinned to his side. He was almost home - err, bathroom, free until he bumped into a familiar face. He held tight onto his cufflinks as they collided into each other.
Azula didn't look amused at all. He drank in her appearance. She was wearing makeup - a change from her usual bare faced appearance at school. She also wore a dress made of satin that had a sash that tied at the waist. She looked like she was struggling to not lean sideways in her strappy 5-inch heels.
For the first time, he noticed how young Azula looked. He always pictured her looking more mature, her features more sharp and focused than anyone their age. But as she stood before him, wobbling in her heels like a newborn deer, he couldn't help but think she looked like a baby. A child dressed like their idea of a grownup. It caused a strange lump to dump itself into his gut.
"I'm coming to understand that amongst your many deficiencies that you are adding being a clumsy ditz to that list," she quipped unamusedly.
Chan fought the urge to roll his eyes. There she went again, talking to him as if he were beneath her. As if she were far older and wiser than he was. Like they didn't take the same classes five days a week.
"Hello to you too," Chan replied, his eyes cold and squinted at her.
She brushed the imaginary wrinkles out of her dress and tried to gain steady footing again. "I imagine your father is here to grovel before anyone with a semblance of status and your mother to gain new members of whatever club she's recently taken interest in?"
"Yes," Chan barked through grit teeth, not at all amused at the girl's barbs at his parents. "I assume your father is here to bark orders at whomever doesn't satisfy his sadistic desires?"
Azula chuckled darkly, an amused eye roll resetting her face. "Well that's what happens when you're not a beta bitch. You get to make the calls."
Out of his peripheral vision, Chan could see the familiar intimidating outline of Ozai. He was fixing the buttons of his dress shirt and checking himself out at the mirror right beside the bathroom. A plan formed in the boy's mind.
"Geez, take a chill pill," he said as he slipped the bottle of alcohol out of his sleeve.
He shook it a little before popping the cap off with his teeth for dramatic effect. He took a swig from it that he was sure he was going to regret later and extended the bottle towards Azula. She snarled in disgust as she watched him wipe his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He didn't miss the party's other attendees walking by, their lips curled and eyes judging seeing two stupid teenagers invading their little space.
"On top of everything else, you're also an alcoholic?" Azula snarked.
"C'mon," Chan egged on as he stepped closer. "It's not like you've never done it before."
"Azula."
The moment seemed to stretch on forever. Chan - without even knowing the man personally - could feel the hairs on the back of his neck raise. Sweat began to pool in his hands, on his back, and under his arms. Ozai was even more intimidating up close. He was huge and scary and so very reserved that it reminded him of those mild mannered psychopaths in popular television shows.
But that was nothing compared to the face Azula was wearing. She looked pained - like she'd been intruded on in the middle of shitting. He watched the way her body tensed and trembled with anxiety. She hadn't even brought her eyes to meet her father's. He could see her hands tremble at her sides, her back hunched, and her lips quivering as she forced herself to speak.
"Father?" she finally choked out.
"After this party, we need to talk when we get home."
"Yes, sir," she replied obediently, the tremors in her voice betraying her attempt at a steely facade.
….
Ozai had stopped just short of strangling her. The phantom blue-ish purple marks that remained long after his meaty fingers had wrapped around her neck reminded her of that. Azula stood in her bathroom mirror sobbing pathetically. She traced over the imprints of her father's hands over and over again.
What the hell was she going to do? She wasn't the best at makeup and she had another volleyball tournament coming up. How would she even be able to move as freely as she liked? Her fists clenched as she snarled at the memory.
Azula and her father had ended up mingling with everyone until the very last minute of the soiree. But she knew that her father was only keeping up appearances. He hadn't looked at her all night and she knew that could only mean the worst was yet to come.
She avoided Chan for the rest of the evening. The idiot had guzzled down half the bottle of alcohol in the bathroom stall and came out positively tipsy a half hour later. He swayed on his feet, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes glazed over with a hazy fog.
He was quickly busted after tripping over himself and onto the desert table where a few trays of pastries landed on haughty ladies' dresses. He got up to apologize but then vomited all over himself in the process. He was quickly ushered out and his parents apologized profusely, their embarrassment barely masked as they held their son up on either side and dragged him out.
Azula would've taken this as a small victory, but then she remembered she still had to go home with Ozai.
The car ride home was silent. She didn't bother to turn on the radio nor make small talk. The man was brewing. She swallowed a lump in her throat. All she could do was prepare for her punishment.
They walked into the house still silent. The door clicked shut behind her father and she gulped, unable to move from the entrance.
Please just be quick, she thought to herself.
Azula turned to meet her father's eyes. He rushed towards her, his arm extended and his hands poised to grab her. He held her up by her throat and pushed her against a wall. She struggled to breathe as his grip tightened. His steely eyes narrowed as a frown marred his face.
"Is that the kind of company you keep?" he mused, obviously not looking for an answer as he pressed his thumb against her windpipe.
Azula flung her arms out pathetically and grabbed at his hand. She tried desperately to loosen his grip even just a little.
"Are you trying to embarrass me?!" he thundered as he shook her around for dramatic effect.
For the first time, she thought her father was set to kill her. His eyes squeezed shut and she heard a sigh as she started to lose consciousness. He loosened his grip and slung her against the wall. He dusted his hand against his jacket.
"Just like I've made your brother aware, when you are no longer of use to me, I have no problem getting rid of you."
"I would never-" Azula sputtered in between weak gasps desperate for oxygen to rush back into her lungs. "I understand, Father."
Ozai walked off without an utterance of acknowledgement. Azula remained on the floor, battered and shaken, until she heard the familiar creak of his door before it clicked closed.
She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The tears came immediately as she gathered herself and shuffled to her room. She felt so powerless, so weak and useless as she looked at herself in the mirror. Another round of tears rolled down her eyes as she thought to herself: What more can I do?
