Chapter 1 His Kind of Girl

Fenella's POV

"I don't like you." Laird said it coldly.

"What? You're lying, right? I know you're lying. If you're lying, maybe you're just teasing me as usual. If so, it's okay, but why are you joking like this?" I asked quickly.

"Enough, Fenella. I'm sick of you." Laird's voice was still low, and there was no smile on his lips at all. His green eyes stared at me with anger.

"Why are you saying that? Why don't you like me? Give me a clear reason." Tears started to fall on my cheeks.

I couldn't believe any of this. Laird has been my friend since we were kids. He's my neighbor, always by my side; we were even dancing on the prom's dance floor just a few hours ago. How could his attitude change so quickly?

"You're not my type," Laird said again, firmly in a low voice.

I could barely hear him, but somehow I caught Laird's words. My heart clenched. I truly couldn't believe what he said.

"What? I'm not your type." I pressed my hand against my chest.

"Do you want me to believe all your insults towards me just because I'm not your type? Is that it?" I asked with my mouth agape. My breath almost stopped upon hearing that.

Completely nonsense! Laird's gaze on me didn't falter at all. He remained silent.

"Is that it?!" I asked again, with a raised tone.

"That's it," he replied shortly.

I snorted in disbelief with my mouth wide open. I was almost on the verge of anger. I knew Laird was hiding something from me, but his answer made me really angry. I was so angry that I couldn't even protest anymore. My tears stopped because of my anger. Instead, I laughed.

"Okay, fine. If that's the case, what is your type, then? What kind of girl do you like enough to treat me like this in front of everyone?" I pressed.

"Tell me, what is your ideal type of girl?" This time, I challenged Laird, and my anger barely contained itself.

"I like girls who are independent and not clingy like you. I like girls who are confident, naturally beautiful, popular, humble, and honest."

He spoke and then fell silent again. He looked up, took a deep breath, and suddenly pointed to a billboard advertising our school.

"Like her. That's my type of girl."

I turned to see the billboard he pointed at. There was an advertisement about a successful alumna from our school. I knew the girl in the advertisement; everyone saw her every time we entered the school building. I saw her ad everywhere. I even saw her on the front cover of women's magazines.

"Now you understand, right? You are very different from her. You're just a foolish, spoiled, and ugly girl. No boy will ever like you."

The blond-haired boy turned around and walked away.

"If that's the case, why did you choose Amy? Aren't I your best friend? Why did you choose that bully even though she's not your type?" I asked loudly to stop Laird in his tracks. He turned to me.

"It's precisely because you're my best friend that I don't want you to get cocky." He spoke.

"If I had to choose between some random girl and you, I would still choose someone else. Even if it's a bully."

After saying those words, Laird walked away, leaving me behind. My eyelids blinked in disbelief at all this. My heart shattered into pieces. My chest ached, my fingers' tips pricked, and I clenched my dress tight against my chest. It hurt so much that even my ears felt numb.

I turned and walked back to my dorm with tears on my cheeks. My tears flowed uncontrollably. I ran with blurred vision. I didn't care about my shoes left on the road. I ran as fast as I could to the dorm, my feet scraping.

Everything felt like a mere dream, and now I was like a fairy-tale princess running home after the clock struck. Everything seemed shattered and erased. The sparkle of prom night's magic had vanished, replaced by an endless abyss of sorrow.

Truly, this was absurd. This was insane. I couldn't accept this at all.

I will retaliate! Laird Evans, you just wait for my revenge!

***

Present days, 7 years later...

"Great!"

I glanced at the photographer as she commented on the results of the images I had taken earlier. On the computer screen, the photo quality appeared to be excellent.

The idea of this picture shoot was distinct, with monochromatic hues and the play of light creating silhouette shadows as photo enhancers.

"This looks good." I pointed to one photograph scrolling across the screen.

An unusual stance that resembles ballet moves. The pose appears to have garnered appreciation, even though I was unaware of its name.

Kim, the photographer, screamed, "Yes! Perfect! Thank you. I believe we'll have a lot of fantastic shots, thanks to you."

We hugged briefly to convey our gratitude, then shared little kisses on the cheek. Jessy, my agent, grinned heartily this time, expressing his approval.

"Excellent job, Fenella. I'm confident your portfolio will be even better this year," Jessy added as he led me back to the changing room.

"Are you sure?" I asked Jessy with a bright smile.

"Of course. I told you that this is your year."

Jessy became even more eager. Even as I was stripping down behind the curtain, I could make out his remarks.

"Are you going to the fortune teller again, Jess?" With a slight chuckle, I replied in the same loud voice.

"Ha! Even without those tarot cards, I know you'll become more famous this year."

I came from the dressing room curtain right after changing out of the white maxi dress into a tight knee-length black knit dress. Jessy quickly handed over the maxi dress to the assistant designer.

"Your name is becoming more recognized among designers, and your Instagram followers are growing. What have I said? Making beauty tutorial videos will help you gain popularity."

I sat in one of the makeup chairs and began brushing my long hair. The makeup assistant let me touch up my makeup.

"Tomorrow you have a dress fitting for Baumer's show preparation."

"Tomorrow? What time?" I asked.

"Wait, let me check." Jessy opened his phone and looked at the markings on his agenda. "At 7 a.m."

I mumbled softly when I heard the early morning schedule for tomorrow.

"Why is that?" Jessy frowned.

"Hmm. That's okay. I'll manage."

"Manage? Is it really so difficult to get up early?"

He suddenly clutched my shoulder, his mouth agape.

"Aha! I remember! You're going out with Tom tonight, right? You naughty girl!" Jessy teased me with a big laugh.

My cheeks flushed, and I smiled shyly.

"Why not?" I carefully flicked my hair towards Jessy.

"Yes, it's fine," Jessy quipped.

"But?" I asked again, hesitantly. I just knew somehow that Jessy wanted to nag me on this.

Tell me honestly, what's on your mind?" I asked him.