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RebornHeart of Steel

kennedy_uzoatu
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Synopsis
An Artist's Deadly Masquerade Eighteen-year-old Lucy Abrams dreamed of being an artist, but her talent was constantly trampled on by cruel bullies. When a twist of fate leads to her tragic death, Lucy awakens in the body of Brianne Karen - a rich, spoiled heiress who was her former tormentor. Trapped in Brianne's privileged life, Lucy vows revenge on those who made her life miserable. But as she gets closer to billionaire Daren Salvatore, who was betrothed to Brianne, she finds herself inexplicably drawn to him. Lucy must keep up the masquerade while hunting for her own killer. When the truth is finally exposed, Lucy realizes the devastating betrayal behind her death comes from the person she trusted most. In a world of vast wealth and dark secrets, will Lucy's passion for art and justice survive? Or will her pursuer's malice permanently extinguish her creative spirit?
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Torment's Grip

"Ugh, see who decided to grace us with her presence." Brittany's voice cut through the air like a pin. "The loser herself." 

I felt every pair of eyes burning into me as that insufferable harpy gestured dramatically in my direction. 

Just keep walking, Lucy. Don't react.

"What's wrong, Lucy? Cat got your tongue?" Brittany let out one of her shrill cackles that just makes you want to strangle her, you know? "Or are you just too braindead to string a few words together?"

Then her squad of mean girl minion began to giggle and snicker like hyenas.

 I looked straight ahead as I focused on watching my steps.

I wasn't going to give them that satisfaction.

"I'm speaking to you,you freak!" 

Before I could blink, Brittany's fake-nailed talons shot out and yanked my backpack right off my shoulder.

 I yelped in surprise as my books and papers went flying everywhere.

"Oops, my bad!" She covered her mouth in an over-exaggerated shocked expression, those beady eyes of hers glittering with pure evil. "I guess those sausage fingers of yours can't even hold onto a bag properly."

The little witches surrounding her absolutely lost it at that, bending over and clutching their sides like it was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.

 I felt the mortification burning my cheeks as I crouched down to gather my scattered things.

"Need some help?"

Mark's voice made my heart skip a beat. 

Our eyes met for the briefest second as he knelt beside me, and just like that, the whole cruel world seemed to fade into the background.

 His kind smile was like a lifeline.

I opened my mouth, ready to finally speak to him after all this time, but of course Brittany had to open her big trap again.

"Oh my god, please don't tell me you're actually talking to this loser, Mark!" She clutched Troy's arm all dramatically, staring at Mark like he'd just grown a third eyeball. "Even someone as pathetic as you has to have standards."

You could actually see Mark's face just crumple as the coven started screeching with laughter again.

 He shoved my books back into my arms without a word and scrambled to his feet, muttering a feeble "sorry" under his breath before bolting.

"Aw, what's the matter, Markie?" Brittany crooned in that shrill baby voice that makes me want to rip my ears off. "Did I hurt your wittle feelings by insulting your girlfriend?"

More hyena cackles from the peanut gallery.

I sighed as I packed the last og my things from the floor wanting to disappear into thin air so desperately.

Or perhaps for the ground to open and then swallow me whole.

 Anything to get away from their shrieking.

"Lucy and Mark, sitting in a tree!"

Oh god, here comes the pièce de résistance - Troy joining in with the kiddie romance taunts, wrapping his arms around Brittany in a crude mockery of a loving embrace.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

I squeezed my books tighter, struggling not to cry. I will not give them that power over me.

"Oh my god, can you imagine?" Brittany spun in Troy's arms, her eyes lighting up with pure sadistic glee. "Their poor, deformed babies would be such fervent disappointments!"

That did it - I could feel the hot burn of tears prickling my eyes as their mocking laughter crashed over me in waves. 

Why me? Why am I constantly their punching bag for cruelty?

"Leave her alone already."

The slightly accented voice was soft, but it cut through the din like a whisper in a quiet library. 

We all turned to see Chase, the new foreign exchange student none of us had really gotten to know yet, watching the scene with an inscrutable expression.

A tiny flicker of hope sparked in my chest as his calm green eyes met mine, giving the smallest of nods. 

For the few weeks he'd been here, Chase just had this...presence about him that demanded respect. 

Even the doziest bullies seemed to instinctively back down when he was around.

But of course, Brittany sneered at him like he was something gross she'd stepped in.

"Stay out of this, Transfer," she spat, her pretty features twisting into an ugly mask. "This is a Westbrook matter. It doesn't concern drifters like you."

To Chase's credit, he didn't so much as blink. "I would consider basic human decency to be a matter concerning us all."

You could actually see Brittany's nostrils flare at that calm rebuttal, like she was a raging bull and he was the matador's red cape. 

An awkward tension settled over the whole group as they sized each other up through narrowed eyes.

For a minute there, I actually thought fists might start flying. 

Then Troy had to open his big dumb mouth and snicker, burying his face in Brittany's hair to stifle his laughter. 

And just like that, the spell was broken as the whole gaggle of harpies joined in, their shrill braying echoing loud enough to rattle the lockers.

"Ooh, listen to Mr. World Citizen over here!" Brittany rolled her eyes so hard, I thought they might get stuck. "Sorry, Transfer, but the rest of us aren't obligated to play nice with the school's resident bottom-feeder."

With one last look of pure disdain in my direction, she turned on her designer heel and strode off, her little minions scurrying along behind her like a trail of ugly ducklings. 

Their cawing laughter seemed to ricochet from every surface, bouncing back into my ears in a torturous cacophony I couldn't escape.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Chase's voice finally pulled me out of my daze. 

His handsome features were all pinched with concern as he reached down to help gather the last of my books.

I could only give him a jerky nod, not trusting my voice in that moment. 

What could I possibly say? 

That this soul-crushing ritual was just another day in the life of Loser Lucy, the school's favorite humiliation punching bag?

That each fresh insult and degrading taunt from Brittany chipped away another tiny piece of my spirit until I could scarcely recognize myself in the mirror anymore?

 Until the sad, hollow person staring back at me was a complete stranger?

Chase studied me in silence for a beat, then sighed heavily through his nose.

"I'm sorry you have to endure such mindless cruelty," he murmured, handing me back my books with surprising gentleness.

 "High school...it can truly bring out the worst in people sometimes."

I clutched my things tightly to my chest, catching his deep green gaze with what I hoped was a reassuring look. 

No more pity, please - I've had my lifetime's supply of that.

"Thanks for trying to help," I replied, my voice coming out in a scratchy rasp.

 Christ, how long had it been since I'd last spoken out loud?

A sad little smile played across his lips as he gave a slight shrug, like he'd expected nothing less from our backward little school.

"I merely sought to uphold some semblance of human decency," he said simply. "Sadly, it would seem such a virtue is in short supply in this place."

With that ominous little statement, he turned and continued on his way, leaving me alone in the now-deserted hallway.

 I watched his retreating form for a long moment, feeling like the last sane person left on an asylum ward.

How in the hell did it ever get this bad? 

This daily torment, this cruel, endless cycle of humiliation and anguish that had become my life - when did I become such an easy goddamn target for the Brittanys of the world to take their frustrations out on?

I didn't even have the energy left to cry anymore. 

The tears came far too frequently these days, each fresh wave of emotional agony leaving me more and more hollowed out inside. 

What few teardrops I had remaining were reserved for the moments I was utterly alone, when I could finally let the full, crushing weight of my desolation crash over me in peace.

The loud trill of the warning bell cut through the heavy silence, jolting me out of my misery spiral.

 I straightened up with a shuddering sigh, squaring my shoulders as I mentally prepared to brave another endless day in this unrelenting hell.

Just keep your head down, Lucy, I told myself firmly.