Ivy's hands trembled as she finished her painting. The dull hum of the art studio at Greystone Academy buzzed around her, but her focus was razor-sharp. She barely noticed the presence behind her until a voice, smooth and melodic, broke the silence.
"That's breathtaking."
Ivy turned, startled. There she stood—Aurora Elric, the kind of girl who turned heads effortlessly. Aurora was all sharp cheekbones, honeyed hair that cascaded like liquid gold, and a confidence that radiated through every fiber of her being.
"Thanks," Ivy stammered, her cheeks flushing.
Aurora tilted her head, her gaze lingering on the canvas. "You have talent. Real talent. Most people here just paint what they think others want to see. You paint what you feel."
From that moment, Ivy was hooked.
Aurora quickly pulled her into her orbit, inviting Ivy into her world of glittering parties, luxurious mansions, and endless indulgence. For Ivy, it was intoxicating. She had never felt so alive, so wanted. And yet, she could feel the gnawing at her heart—a dangerous infatuation that grew stronger with each passing day.
What began as admiration morphed into something darker.