In the haste of life, another body bumped my shoulder and walked ahead, some arrogant guy greeting his friends too obnoxiously loud at freaking seven on a Monday morning. Have some curtsey to the society, without the privileges of coffee, around you, arsehole.
My feet dragged against the floor, already dreading the disappointment that would follow through the course of this day. I was stoked and equally paranoid to continue living. I curled my fist around the tacky advertisement pamphlet in my hand as I reached my locker and flung it open, narrowly missing a girl's forehead, and threw the ball inside. A crumpled line reading, 'Silverstone calls you for the Science Festa Orientation Ceremony,' peeped through.
My selective hearing tuned in on the whisperers amongst the chaos around me. My locker partner gush to her friend, "Does Hale not look a little down these days? I've heard he's been skipping practice. Poor boy, I wonder what happened?"
They exchanged a chuckle as I eyed the weary inside of my locker, lacking personality or depth—just like the majority of students in our highchool.
"I've heard his parents are getting divorced and his hoe of a mother is getting his custody," I heard another passing comment and rolled my eyes, stuffing my bag with science books needed for the day.
"Wait—he has parents?! I thought he only had a brother in college!" another voice added and I couldn't help the sigh that escaped my lips.
I wonder if it was hard, concerning yourself with everyone else's matters. I could care less.
Another body pushed past me and my forehead hit the edge of my math book and I seethed in. I wish I could pull back the man with his hood, smash his head against the lockers with a loud bang and kick him in the balls and shout, "Look where you're going, asshole!"
But I didn't.
Not because I couldn't, but because I knew it wouldn't be worth it. Humans are never worth it.
Absolutely not because I am a lanky, pathetic, teenager who would pull a muscle just trying grab someone by their hoodie! And totally not because, if I shout my voice would blend into the surroundings and never reach their ears.
I shut my locker, slowly and carefully, behind me as the bell rang loud and clear, announcing the start of our first period. As the students rushed to their classes, hoarding together like a cattle, I blend in and navigate my way through the hallway of sticky bodies and smelly armpits and head to the school auditorium across the field.
As you might have brilliantly noticed, I'm particularly not a head turner. I barely have any presence among my peers and my superpower, if one could call it, is getting lost in a crowd. It was a brilliant ability when in class, especially when teachers hand pick students to answer questions.
The morning was dewy and the grass underneath my converse was wet. The misty sky hung overhead like a premonition of doom. Like a grey treasure chest sealing all the gold of light within. As the second warning bell rang, my fingers clutched my bag impulsively tighter and my feet paced faster.
I was 5'4" my legs would not make it if I strode, so I ran. The circular dome of redstone was within my sight. Imperial cylindrical windows eyeing my movements like an unnamed observer, stalking the premise. My legs ran faster. I couldn't be late.
I had a weird name, Ceridwen, good Lord my stomach churned and my hands went clammy. I hate being singled out. I dreaded the feeling of my teacher mispronouncing it in a hall full of people.
No, I cannot be late and let myself into the spotlight.
The Orientation coordinator would say my name weirdly.
Ugh, the mere thought of the scenario had my stomach churning again and I could feel the cold air slap against my face as I closed my eyes and ran in a mad dash. I cannot be late. I cannot be singled out in front of HIM.
No.
Hence I ran even faster. My bag swung with the momentum and every step forward had my back being attacked by six books over and over again.
Of course I did not know a person was in my way.
And of course I ran into him, headfirst, like a freaking raging bullet.
And of course we both fell.
Him on the ground as his chin rubbed against the raw ground and me on top of him with my ten kilograms of science books in tow. There was a shout, like that of a strangled chicken. I think that was me.
Oh the mortification.
At least I didn't fart—
Holy skittles, I will be late!
I opened one eye, too embarrassed of confrontation, only to witness his face buried in the grass and my butt straddling his neck while my hands clutched on his red hair. In all honesty, it could be worse.
I could have been under my bag with him on top of me. Dear Odin, what would my death certificate look like— 'Death by being overburdened.'
What a stereotypically student way to die.
His groans snapped me out of my flustered trance. I squeaked. Realising the situation at hand, I frantically bemoaned.
"Oh my lord, I am so sorry! I did not know you were there! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Can I help you?" I dragged out, biting my lower lip in nervousness and cracking my fingers on his skull.
His bony hand tapped on the grass as he managed to slightly raise his head and stutter out, "G-get the fuck o-off me! you bloody cow!"
The third warning bell coincided with his words and my heart almost lurched out it's cage ans slid out of my mouth.
Oh good gracious lord, I will have to call out my name if I'm late. The mortification of being in the spotlight. Dread washed over my entire being as my feet shakily rose.
"I am so sorry, I really need to get going!" I all but cried out loud, taking a step forward, only to be pulled back by a hand on my ankle and fall face first on the dirty ground with a loud yelp.
The bag weighed me under and I should have felt pain, but adrenaline took over.
"Don't you dare run away!" his voice growled as shivers rose all over my body. Not because his devastatingly handsome face and sharp grey eyes were glaring at me as his sculpted nose bled on my socks, but because I could see the auditorium windows closing.
Oh fucking hell no!
The pure instinct of survival took over. I was a racer till grade 5th. You're not stopping me.
"Let. Me. go!" I cried out loud, jerking his hand away as I crawled on the grass to lunge forward, military style, only to have him pull me back again. My knee scraped against the ground and I winced in pain. In my peripheral sight, a sweat drop slid it's way down my cheek.
"No, you're going nowhere! You just made my nose bleed! Probably broke the fucking thing! You will have consequences for ruining my perfect face! I'm the star— aahh!"
"Well were you visually impaired as well? I was running with my eyes closed what we're you doing peasant?!" I cried out loud, clawing the ground beneath.
I fisted some mud and threw it in his face. Intolerable bastard. He winced in pain, reflexively letting go of my foot and before he could come back to his senses, I crawled up and dashed inside the auditorium before the guard could close the gates on me.
Ah. No being late.
The inside was warm and welcoming, dimly illuminated with fluorescent lights as velvet brown chairs covered the entirety of the seating area. The curtains were drawn and the stage was visible a few people walking across in haste. I grinned, they were far from being started.
The guard eyed me weirdly, staring up and down and as my adrenalin wore off, mortification and took over. The pain returned and realization struck— I was covered in dirt from head to toe. My hands were scratchy, my nail beds were dirt filled, my knees and elbows were probably scraped under my black dungaree and white tee and there was blood on my socks.
Worst of all, my crush was here and I stood out!
If only the ground could open up and swallow me as a whole, I couldn't be more grateful of my existence. I have lived and loved, take me away Mother Mary, I wish to see no more.
The stout guard coughed at me.
"Morning," I awkwardly waved at him, who ignored me with a beautiful intensity, and proceeded to close the doors shut.
Students shuffled around, trying to find their seats as my friendless self oddly lingered behind, eyes involuntarily searching for HIM.
The room was dimmed as the coordinator was busy setting up the projector, but I spot him too easily. Red hair styled with meticulous perfection, wise grey eyes staring intently at the paper in his gloved hand, thin framed glasses glinting green from the reflection of light sliding down the sharp bridge of his nose. High cheekbones accentuated even when his mouth was pulled into a smile—I sighed.
He was a magical dream. Aedion Dorian.
His tall frame towered beside the blonde girl he was talking to, a dress-suit accentuating his lean frame and muscles that strained against the fabric. Ah. What a sight. Aedion Dorian.
He looked up from his paper and waved at the gushing crowd of girls standing underneath the stage, evidently gawking at him without a shame to name. A flurry of giggles birthed and I looked around to realize, good lord, the place was brimmed with girls and guys alike, swooning over the love of my life.
A bitter taste overwhelmed my mouth; it was jealousy—wasn't it? Not really, it was the mud on my lips. Hah, I cannot even feel stuff like girls with protagonist syndrome. All of my being knows I'm undeserving, expect that stupid heart of mine. of course, that dumb muscle likes pretty guys with great personalities so much so that it made me change my dream when I was eight. All my life I just wanted to be a cotton candy seller when I grow up, but one moment changed it all.
The crowd cheered again as Aedion rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and my heart thundered again. Good Lord his veiny arms were made for simping. I know it because I follow a Tumblr page dedicated wholly to his hands.
I rubbed my mouth over a clean part of my sleeve and grinned, gulping down the excessive ruminants that were already in my mouth.
Hmm—mud wasn't all that bad at all.
I considered brushing the dirt off me, but remained wary of the guard scrutinizing me closely. He surely looked like someone who would find a person and hold them at gunpoint to get rid of a random spot they accidently made after this man had cleaned the place like his life depended on it.
"Be seated please, we shall begin momentarily," Aedion announced in his deep voice and my heart fluttered. "The seats have been marked in an application order alphabetic to your last names; I hope you get along well."
If I wasn't already head over heels for him, his sweet wish for harmony made me fall a little more. Metaphorically so. A bright smile made it's way to my face. His voice erased all my insecurities away.
I tiptoed my way through the crowd, sliding easily between people, to find my seat— fifth row, center aligned — and couldn't help the squeal that escaped my lips. I was named well, in God's almighty grace. I had a good name.
"I hope there are no late-comers, if there are, please call out your names so that my assistant can type in. School rules, not mine, I think time is relative to perception as long as you heed to deadlines. Or else, time is a ninja swordsman and you're a peasant about to be beheaded."
The audience giggled a little too hard, all trying to please the love of my life. But I knew better than to laugh, what he said wasn't a joke but a hyperbolic warning for future references.
"You got it, didn't you?" a voice questioned beside me and I turned to my left and gasped at the proximity.
Of course he'd be here, in a science orientation, the nerd of all nerds, the only pillar of education in our schoolwhom the management sucks dry when it comes to branding, son of town's mayor and the symbol of detest among all families whose parents said things like, "Have you seen the son of Salvatores? He's such a brilliant child! I've heard his dream was to be a scientist at NASA. Oh what a well-mannered child, visits all religious places on Sunday and even volunteers at the pet care shelter and old age home alternatively. What a dream child, I wish I had one."
Elvi Salvatore.
Ice blonde hair concealed under the dark beanie with silvery ringlets adorning his forehead like snowflakes on a dry ground. Sculpted chin pressed against his palm as his brown eyes devoid of any emotion or interest stared past my soul. Under the dim hints of fluorescent lights, his eyebrows piercings gleamed evilly. He licked his lips once, twice, three and then smirked, tasting the metal on lower lip.
Flustered out of my wits by the sheer ridiculousness of my appearance in his mighty presence, I looked away and mumbled a meek, "Yes I did, and it was obvious."
Involuntarily, I started cracking my fingers against my thighs.
Subconsciously, my hands met my face, trying to rub the dirt away and look a tad more presentable than whatever walking trash I represented at the moment.
He chuckled huskily, and ruffled my hair. I blushed repulsively and jumped up, jerking away from him, only to step on someone's feet.
To my misfortune, she was Millicent Qlint. Beauty with brains, talent with tongue, wit with words and acting with actions. Also, did I mention a raging Libra with aggressive-aggressive tendencies?!
"Fucking sewer-head, watch where you're going!" she winced out, kicking my shin in retaliation.
I groaned in return, wanting to scowl at her but most probably staring with a constipated face.
"I'm sorry I wasn'—" I started but Elvi beat me to it.
"Stop making a fuss princess, it was my fault."
Did I mention they were cousins? Yeah. Elvi's cold glare never left my face and it suffocated me as a whole.
"Fucking control your whores then," Millicent spat and plopped her plump arse beside my chair, carding a hand through her ice-blonde hairs. I shivered, too self conscious to sit back again.
This was such a horrible day.
Aedion was the only solace in my life.
I looked up at the stage and almost squeaked upon seeing the man in question staring directly at me. Grey eyes wide and eyebrows pushed up expectantly.
"Do you have a problem, little girl?" he questioned, on the mic, in an auditorium full of people. The sound ricocheted off the walls and felt like cannon balls attacking me from either sides. My stomach churned again.
I fucking died right there. I could physically feel my heart slow down and the burden of gravity all over.
"Do you want to say something? Need something? Are you uncomfortable?" he questioned again as I stared at him like a dead girl standing. I was being singled out, the mortification was real.
Someone help.
Almost everyone was staring at me, surely, but my hands wouldn't move! Nothing moved! I was as stiff as a stick! Help me!
"Are you—by any chance, deaf?" he questioned softly, trying to sign language with a mic in his hands. Millicent scoffed beside me and I could hear Elvi stifle a laugh on the other side.
Come on Ceri, do something, you cannot let your first iinteraction with the love of your life end up with being passed out. Do something. What will he think of you?! Are you retarded? Fucking move, you dead horse!
My jammed system barely started to respond with a shake of head when suddenly someone from the first row sprung up and pointed at me.
"You!" they shouted and my eyes zoned in on the bedraggled red hair, scornful face, nose stuffed with a tissue and mud smeared on the collars. With bloodshot grey eyes and an accusatory finger pointed at me, he shouted, "You're the one who sat on my face!"
The crowd went bonkers with that twisted piece of information. Chattering lot already drawing conclusions and making up theories. Good lord, he'd become a good journalist.
I should have been mortified, but all my mind could focused on something bigger. His striking resemblance to Aedion.
"How dare you run away from me!" he shouted again, stepping on the velvet seat and jumping a row ahead, leaving a God-awful foot print behind.
I gulped, being frozen was fun and all until I realized he was already stepping on another person's seat to jump another.
The graceful movements, the obnoxious voice, the irritating temperament. How did I not recognize.
Holy shit he was Hale Dorian, star athlete and school hotshot, little brother of Aedion Dorian! Step brother to be more precise.
The crowd was chanting 'FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!'
Panic ensued within me but I felt my frozen feet set to stone.
Aedion was speaking something on the stage, probably trying to contain his brother, but for once in my life I could barely comprehend.
The freaking step brother was stepping towards me and just as he was about to yank me away, a sudden urge itched my hands. In the moment of fight or flight, I pulled up my hands in a defensive stance before I knew it, I smashed my forehead.
Everything went eerily silent.
Not just silent, 'I'm observing the way you messed up and now you're dead' silent, but like, proper 'Dead-silence'.
I looked up from my behind my hands and sucked in a breath. Aedion was stopped midway, trying to jump off the stage. Hale was an inch away from flinging at me, his mouth open. Millicent's ever so perfect face had paused in one of the funniest of ways possible and before I could revel in the beauty or absurdity of the situation for a little too long, I heard someone speak.
"I see Lumiere messed up, you're not the chosen one."
I could hear it, a drawl, but somehow, I couldn't turn in the direction to see him. I turned left and right but couldn't fully move to face the voice. Feeling oddly calm in the silence, I decided to question.
"W-W-what is happening--?" I stuttered out unsurely, as the strange voice chuckled.
"The fates fucked up."
And that's how I, Ceridwen Rivers, was caught up in a divine mess up.