🎶: What Goes Around Comes Around - Justin Timberlake
Maddie Nolan had a knack for information. People liked to talk, and Maddie knew just how to listen—when to nod sympathetically, when to laugh at the right moment, and, most importantly, when to ask the kind of questions that made them spill. It wasn't manipulation, really. It was more like... strategic curiosity. People wanted to feel heard, and Maddie was very good at hearing what they didn't say aloud.
Maddie stood by the coffee station, her cup of tea in hand, an easy smile on her face as she chatted with a group of student government members. They weren't exactly her inner circle, but they were good for campus updates and, more importantly, gossip.
"So," Maddie began, her tone casual as she stirred her tea, "Caitlyn's not here today? She's usually impossible to miss at these things."
A boy with tousled brown hair shrugged, cracking open a bottle of water. "She's been flaking a lot lately. I think she's, like, busy with Vi Kane."
"Vi Kane?" Maddie repeated, raising an eyebrow as she took a sip of her tea. "The one with the hair? And the attitude?"
"That's the one," the boy said, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Not exactly who you'd expect Caitlyn to be hanging around with, right?"
A girl with blunt-cut bangs and an oversized sweater snorted, flipping through her notebook. "Honestly, it's weird. Like, Caitlyn's this put-together, future senator type, and Vi's... well, she's Vi. No filter, no direction, just trouble."
"Opposites attract, I guess," Maddie offered lightly, her smile widening just enough to seem friendly but not overly invested.
"Sure," the boy interjected, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "but, like, it's not a great look for the school. People are already talking, and it's not all nice. I mean, Caitlyn's supposed to be a role model here, you know? And now she's hooking up with her?"
Maddie's smile didn't falter, but her fingers tightened ever so slightly around her teacup. Before she could respond, the girl in the sweater rolled her eyes and leaned in. "It's not just the who, though, is it?" she muttered. "It's the what. Like, come on—Caitlyn and Vi? It's just... I don't know. Kinda inappropriate, don't you think?"
The boy chuckled uncomfortably, and Maddie's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "You mean because they're both women?" she asked smoothly, her voice light but with an edge that made the girl glance up.
"What? No," the girl said quickly, though the faint flush in her cheeks suggested otherwise. "I just mean, like, Caitlyn could do better."
"Could she?" Maddie replied, her smile widening just enough to feel like a challenge. She held the girl's gaze for a moment longer before taking a deliberate sip of her tea.
The boy cleared his throat, clearly eager to change the subject. "Anyway, it's Caitlyn's life, right? If she wants to blow off meetings to hang out with Vi, that's on her. I'm just saying it's... unusual, that's all."
"Unusual?" another girl chimed in, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "Honestly, this isn't the first time Caitlyn's been at the center of some... unconventional situations. Remember the Alton Holloran mess?"
The boy perked up, clearly interested. "Oh, yeah! That guy. Didn't he, like, almost get Caitlyn expelled?"
The girl scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "No, dummy. He got expelled. Something about harassing that cheerleader—Lux, right?—and Vi punched him out. It was a whole thing."
"Right, right," the boy said, nodding. "But wasn't Vi supposed to get kicked out too? Like, for fighting or whatever?"
"Yeah, but Caitlyn stepped in," the girl said knowingly, lowering her voice for added effect. "She debated with the principal and somehow got Vi off the hook. Apparently, she made this big speech about self-defense and how Alton was the real problem. Totally saved Vi's ass."
"Seriously?" another student interjected, his brow furrowed. "I thought Vi just got lucky because Alton's dad pulled some strings to keep it quiet. Rich kid privilege and all that."
The girl rolled her eyes. "No, his dad was furious. Apparently, Caitlyn went so hard during the debate that even the board was like, 'Yeah, this guy's gotta go.'"
"Well, good riddance," the boy muttered, taking a swig of his soda. "That guy was a creep anyway."
"Totally," the girl agreed, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "But here's the thing—Caitlyn didn't just save Vi for no reason. People say they were already close back then. Like, really close."
The boy snorted. "So, what? Caitlyn's been into Vi this whole time? That's... kind of wild, honestly."
Maddie sat quietly, her teacup resting delicately in her hand, her expression the perfect mask of polite interest. Inside, her mind churned as she absorbed every word. The stories were messy, full of exaggerations and half-truths, but the underlying thread was clear: Caitlyn and Vi had a history? Well, wasn't that delicious. Maddie's lips curled into a subtle smile, her gaze dropping to her tea as she swirled it idly. The group around her continued their chatter, oblivious to the mischief already brewing in her mind.
History meant connections, and connections meant potential drama. If there was one thing Maddie had learned, it was that a well-placed word could do more damage than a hundred actions.
"Oh, I think I heard something about that before coming here…," Maddie said suddenly, her tone light and conversational as she looked up at the group. "Wasn't there some big campus meeting about Alton? I heard Caitlyn really went after him, like, passionately. It's almost like she had a personal stake in it."
The boy's eyebrows shot up. "You heard about that? Yeah, she was intense. Like, I get it—he was a creep—but I heard she fought for Vi like her life depended on it."
The girl snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Maybe it did. I mean, Caitlyn's always been the justice warrior type, but throwing herself into that mess? For Vi Kane? It's giving martyr vibes, honestly."
Maddie chuckled softly, leaning forward as if sharing a secret. "You have to admit, though," she said, her voice dropping conspiratorially, "it's kind of romantic, isn't it? The impressive student leader saving the rebel? Sounds like something out of a movie."
The girl rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. "Yeah, if you're into those tragic, opposites-attract tropes."
The boy laughed. "I don't know about tragic, but it's definitely a trope. And now they're, what? Dating? Just feels... weird, right?"
Maddie tilted her head, letting her expression slip into something thoughtful, even as her mind danced with amusement. "Doesn't that give… totally biased vibes?" she mused aloud, her tone deliberately neutral, but her words carrying just enough weight to plant the seed. She let the phrase hang in the air, watching as her audience leaned in, their curiosity sharpening like blades.
The girl's eyes lit up, her interest unmistakable. "You think there's more to it?"
"Oh, I wouldn't know," Maddie replied, her smile widening as she lifted her teacup with deliberate elegance. "But if I were Caitlyn, I'd be careful. People love to talk, and relationships like that? They don't always stay under the radar for long."
The boy exchanged a glance with the girl, his brow furrowing slightly. "I mean, it does seem like she's playing favorites, doesn't it?"
The girl nodded eagerly, already latching onto the thread Maddie had laid out for them. "Exactly. Like, who puts their entire reputation on the line for someone like Vi? It's... questionable."
Another boy, leaning casually against the edge of the table, snickered. "Can you imagine if Caitlyn's mother found out about this? She'd probably flip. Isn't she, like, a big-shot politician or something?"
The girl gasped, her eyes widening. "Oh my God, you're right. She's on the city council, isn't she? Can you imagine the scandal if people started talking about Caitlyn's little... extracurricular activities?"
Maddie's lips twitched into a faint smile, though she kept her tone measured, almost pitying. "It would definitely complicate things for her family, wouldn't it?" she mused, her words carefully neutral but weighted just enough to keep the conversation going.
The boy laughed again, shaking his head. "Man, I wouldn't want to be Caitlyn if her mom caught wind of any of this. I bet she'd drag her back home by her collar."
Maddie hid her satisfaction behind the rim of her teacup, her sip slow and deliberate. The fire was catching, the embers stoked just enough to keep it burning. She didn't need to say much more—her carefully chosen words would do all the heavy lifting for her. As the group's murmurs grew louder, Maddie allowed herself the faintest of smirks. This was almost too easy.
-ਠŕ§-
🎶: Nice to Meet Ya - Niall Horan
Riven's sneakers pounded against the dirt path as she jogged further off-campus, leaving behind the chatter and noise of Piltover U. The open field stretched before her, bathed in the soft hues of early evening. The air was cooler here, the faint scent of wild grass mingling with the distant hum of cicadas. She slowed as she neared the spot, her gaze drawn to the patch of grass where she'd stopped weeks ago—a place that had become etched in her memory.
It had been twilight, just like now, when she'd first seen Caitlyn. Riven could still picture her clearly: sitting in the grass, her usually composed demeanor replaced by a quiet vulnerability. Riven remembered the way Caitlyn had glanced up at her, startled but trying to mask it with that practiced poise. Caitlyn had looked like she needed someone that night—not for advice or comfort, just someone to be there. And Riven, against her usual instincts, had stayed. A small smile tugged at Riven's lips as she jogged past the spot, her pace slowing. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but that moment had stuck with her.
Riven picked up her pace slightly, her steps steady as the open field stretched around her. But something caught her eye—a figure seated on the grass, hunched over, with movements too deliberate to be aimless. She slowed instinctively, her gaze narrowing as she took in the scene.
It wasn't Caitlyn. This person's posture was different—more casual, less poised.
Their jet-black hair fell in silky waves, accented by neat bangs that framed a face as striking as it was serene. The contrast of pale, almost luminous skin against the deep green of the field made her seem otherworldly, like she belonged in a painting herself.
Riven's curiosity piqued, and she veered slightly off her path, coming closer without fully intruding. The faint scent of paint reached her nose as she noticed a small canvas propped on an easel in front of the stranger. Their brush moved in smooth, practiced strokes, the colors blending together in soft gradients that reflected the fading light.
The painter didn't seem to notice her at first, completely absorbed in their work. There was something captivating about the focus in their dark eyes, the way their brow furrowed slightly as if the world outside the canvas didn't exist. Riven hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt or simply keep moving. She wasn't one to intrude, but something about the quiet beauty of the scene tugged at her, pulling her closer despite herself.
She stopped a few feet away, her voice breaking the stillness. "That's... beautiful," she said, gesturing vaguely toward the canvas. For a fleeting moment, Riven couldn't help but think she had a strange knack for stumbling upon random girls in quiet places and intruding on their peace.
The painter turned, startled but not unpleasantly so, their gaze locking onto Riven's with a faint spark of curiosity. Up close, the perfection of their features was almost unnerving—delicate yet striking, like someone who had stepped out of a dream. "Thanks," they said simply, their voice calm and soft.
Riven gulped, the sound embarrassingly loud in her own ears. Fantastic, she thought, annoyance flickering through her mind. I've fought my way through chaos and stress, and yet one beautiful stranger shows up, and I'm reduced to this.
They studied her for a moment, their faint smile only adding to the problem. "You can come closer if you want. I don't bite," they said, their voice calm and even, like they hadn't just thrown her entire equilibrium out of balance.
Riven hesitated, her feet shuffling slightly before she gave in and took a step forward. She immediately regretted it. Up close, they were somehow even more distracting—the sharp contrast of their jet-black bangs against their pale, flawless skin, the faint flecks of paint dusting their hands, the way their dark eyes seemed to pierce right through her.
Get it together, she mentally scolded herself, forcing her gaze to the canvas for a moment. But it didn't last. Her eyes kept drifting back, drawn helplessly to their face. Absurd. This is absurd. You're acting like some clueless idiot who's never seen a pretty face before.
"I'm Yunarin," they said suddenly, their voice breaking through her internal chaos. They set their brush down delicately, the movement almost graceful. "But you can call me Yuna."
Yuna? Riven thought, the name rolling around in her mind like a melody she couldn't quite place. It was unfamiliar, soft and unique, much like the person standing in front of her. She felt a flicker of intrigue, a subtle pull toward this stranger who seemed to have stepped out of another world.
She cleared her throat, fighting to keep her expression neutral. "Yuna," she repeated slowly, the name tasting foreign on her tongue. Before she could dwell on it too much, her eyes darted to the canvas. "Uh, your painting... it's the field, right?"
Yuna glanced back at the canvas, their expression shifting to something more contemplative. "Yes," they said softly, their voice carrying the faintest trace of pride.
Riven stepped a little closer, her gaze lingering on the painting. It wasn't just a simple landscape—there was something otherworldly about it. The colors were richer, the strokes more fluid, giving the field an almost dreamlike quality. The golden hues of the grass seemed to glow, and the sky above was a swirl of deep blues and violets that felt impossibly vivid.
"It's... different," Riven said finally, her voice quieter than before. She gestured vaguely toward the canvas. "It's like... the field, but not the way it is. It's more... alive, I guess."
Yuna turned back to her, their smile faint but genuine. "That's what I was going for," they said, tilting their head slightly as they studied the canvas. "Not just what it looks like, but what it feels like to be here. I wanted it to feel... timeless."
Riven blinked, caught off guard by the depth of the response. She nodded slowly, her gaze flicking between Yuna and the painting. "Yeah. You nailed it," she said, her voice carrying an edge of genuine admiration she couldn't quite hide.
The words felt foreign coming out of her mouth—soft, unguarded, almost warm. What the hell? she thought, a flicker of self-awareness creeping in. Since when do I sound like... this? She was used to being the one with the icy veneer, the indifferent tone that kept people at arm's length. Yet here she was, talking to a stranger like she actually cared about art and feelings.
Her gaze lingered on the painting again, as if she could ground herself in its colors. Maybe it's the setting, she reasoned weakly, though a part of her knew that wasn't it.
ਠEND OF MINI CHAPTER ŕ§