Trinity Silverstein exudes an air of exclusivity and sophistication, promising a luxurious and prestigious educational experience to all those who can afford it with the Government's aide.
Situated in a sprawling estate, the school's architecture is grand and elegant, something akin to the victorians and manicured gardens. The main entrance greets me with ornate gates and a driveway lined with tall trees, creating a sense of privacy and grandeur.
No posh soul walks on the driveways but scholarship students like me.
The school grounds are expansive, featuring lush green lawns, meticulously maintained sports fields, and state-of-the-art facilities. They echo a sense of isolation as I tread inside in the mostly empty buildings.
Inside, the atmosphere is of refinement and tradition. Gleaming marble floors, high ceilings adorned with chandeliers, and intricate woodwork lend a sense of opulence to the hallways and common areas. The walls are adorned with portraits of notable alumni and distinguished figures whose faces are only a blur.
Thank lord for something to not have detail in this world, or I'd really start thinking that I made it into some alternate reality. My oxfords click against the gleaming floors, echoing my presence in the isolation as I make my way to the Dean's office.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Come in."
I suck in a deep breath and twist the door knob. The door glides open swiftly, with too much ease, I don't know why I expected it to creak so I used too much pressure on it. I cry internally as I enter, pulling a poker face in the Dean's presence.
I stand in front of his intricately designed woodwork desk as he stares me up and down with his cold blue eyes. I stare back at him, grinding my teeth together as he stares back at me, sporting a fitted black pant-suit and perfectly gelled hair. He looked too young to be a Dean.
"Morning Miss Beckett," he breaks the ice after enough staring. I gulp. I should have researched him first.
"Morning to you too," I try to sound delighted but it comes off cold and awkward.
"I believe we are here to discuss your wild activities beyond the school curriculum," he said in a crisp voice.
I nod, "Indeed," equally crisp.
"Hm, jail, really, Miss Beckett? You surprise me," he scoffs a bit, running a hand over his sleek jawline. His coat sleeves cling to his arm muscles, emphasising them. Why was he so muscular?! Did he have underground mafia ties?!
"I tend to have that effect on people," I reply, I don't know why.
He gives me a cold once-over and I gulp again — why did my communication skills have to abandon me in this very important moment?! There is a limit to self sabotage and accidentally killing myself should make me immune. BUT WHY, OH WHY, IS IT STILL GOING ON?!
"I wouldn't question it," he breaths out and a sudden mischievous glint graces his blue eyes. The stoic expression fades away into a gummy smile and my heart thunders in its cage on its own accord. "I'm sorry," he sighs, getting up from his desk and walking over to my side. My eyes widen in alarm as he wraps a muscular arm around my waist and pulls me in closer, "I've missed you," he whispers against my earshell.
My face burns up. Say WHAT now?!
I suck in a breath as his fingers run in circles over my waist— what fucking plot line is this from?!
"Rigel said that you want to be a boy, huh?" His voice is husky as he looms over me, deep blue eyes staring kindly in mine. He's warm, oddly, but I cannot shake off this feeling of impending dread.
"R-Rigel?" I croak out, "You guys talk?"
His shoulders rise and fall with a muffled laugh as he pulls me closer than before. Our chests are pressed against eachother as he leans back to slot this womanly small body in between his legs.
Don't tell me this side character had an affair with the college dean— what the fuck was wrong with this authoress?!
"Of course we talk baby, I cannot shun my brother just because he abandoned you last weekend. Dick move though, I'll cut his pocket money in half," he replies with a smug smile.
Brother.
If the school dean was Rigel's brother and if Rigel was Winona's childhood best friend, then— AM I LIVING IN THE KISSING BOOTH SIMULATION?!
A kiss pressed to my earshell brings me back in the realm of the living. My heartbeat jumps as he pulls my earlobe between his teeth and nibbles on it. Goosebumps rush over my skin, I try to think of something to push him away just when his hand is about to slide under my school blazer.
"Yes! I want to be a boy! A man! All dandy, like you!" I exclaim just when his kisses were descending to my jawline. He pauses a bit, probably in contemplation, before biting my skin with his teeth. I gasp as a low growl escapes his throat.
"That's sexy, you know I'd love you anyways," he licks the bite and the temperature rises between us. No, this is wrong. I don't even know this character. What the fuck is he on about?!
"Y-yeah, but, like—" I evade my head before he could suck it any further. He gently pulls back and looks at me with a small frown on his face. His eyes blink softly and I gulp because— why is this hot man so kind?! Only in stories, I tsk, only in stories.
"You okay? You've been acting a little distant," he whispers, hot breath hitting my face. This is my final straw as I pull back from his readh and fan myself. Fuck, it's too hot today.
"Yeah, no no, I'm all good. What about the punishment thing? Will you send me to the rehab camp?" I speak hastily and he chuckles.
"No babe, I won't. You will continue the contract terms, obviously, and be the Plaything for the next two months. An additional month, because obviously, we have to show the punishment in some way," he said before walking back to his seat.
I frown, "What contract?"
"Hm? The one you signed with whatever mystery girl you were hanging out with, last weekend. Why would I know?" He looks at me, matching a frown.
I signed a contract with the girl who got me drunk?!
"Um, yes I know that, of course, though, you wouldn't happen to have it with you right now, would you?" I ask, pulling my best smile for him.
He leans back in his chair with a charismatic smirk on his face, "I do not know, maybe I cannot think because I feel so lonely," he pouts like a petulant child.
I roll my eyes and stomp ahead to press a kiss on his forehead and instantly jump back before he could pull me in again. Damn his needy reflexes.
"So cold," he fakes a sob, "You didn't give me copy or anything, remember? You slipped it very coldly in a voice note."
I nod— would it be too suspicious if I ask him to play me the voice note? Oh wait— voice notes are a two way thing! Why did I not think of checking this girl's phone?! Ugh— and what is he even? My boyfriend?
"But if I'm the Plaything for two months, wouldn't the system lose its purpose? To push students to do better?"
He scoffs as if I told him something utterly blasphemous.
"You of all people should know better. The Plaything System only works because we pay so much for it. You'll be paid as well, of course, for both the months. Though the second one wouldn't go on official records," he sighs, running a hand over his brows, "That would be a hassel."
The Playthings are paid?!
When was this ever established in the book?!
Why is this world spinning off its axis, into any random direction possible?!
"Of course," I nod, not really knowing what else to say.
"Go ahead, I'll see you tonight," he winks at me and I don't even know his name as I nod again and rush out as fast as I can.