Chapter 6 A costly desire

Writer's Perspective

Angelica Richards was born into a life most could only dream of. Her family name carried weight-owners of a sprawling oil and refinery empire that stretched across nations. Their estate, a marble-clad mansion nestled in the hills, was a symbol of old money and new power. Raised in opulence, Angelica was the product of polished boarding schools, etiquette lessons, and summers in Monaco.

She was elegance personified-long chestnut hair cascading like silk, flawless porcelain skin, and hazel eyes that seemed to look through you rather than at you. Every movement was intentional, every smile practiced but genuine. She wore designer clothes not because she wanted to stand out-but because it was her norm.

Yet beneath the high-society polish was a young woman of ambition and intellect. She commanded attention not just for her beauty, but for her poise. She was graceful in demeanor, approachable in manner, and magnetic in presence.

Her three best friends were no less dazzling.

Ella St. Clair, a striking redhead with a rebellious streak, came from a lineage of renowned artists and performers. Raised in a creative whirlwind, Ella had an untamable energy and an infectious laugh that made her the life of any room.

Sophia Harrington, or Sophie, was soft-spoken and ethereal. With delicate features and a calming voice, she possessed the quiet kind of beauty that lingered. Her upbringing in a diplomatic household gave her a worldly grace that made her seem older than her years.

Isabella Anderson, nicknamed Bella, had that classic girl-next-door charm. Blonde, blue-eyed, and effortlessly charismatic, she was the definition of radiant warmth. Coming from a family of entrepreneurs, Bella had a natural knack for networking-and winning hearts.

That night, the four girls lounged in their lavish dorm suite, laughter echoing through the room.

"Can you believe the way they stared when we walked in?" Angelica giggled, propping herself up on velvet cushions.

Ella tossed her hair. "It was like we were royalty. I half-expected someone to throw flower petals at our feet."

Sophie smiled softly. "I've never felt so... seen."

Bella nodded, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Tomorrow, let's step it up. Let them know we're here to stay."

Angelica raised her glass. "To day one-and the beginning of our reign."

They clinked their glasses, their laughter rolling into the night like a promise.

This school was their stage.

And the show had only just begun.

~~

Peter's perspective

~~

The next morning, Alex and I got ready for our classes. As we stepped out of our room, I couldn't help but notice-again-how effortlessly sharp he looked. His outfit was crisp, polished, expensive. I glanced down at myself, suddenly unsure.

Alex's eyes raked over my clothes. He tried to mask his reaction, but it was too late-I caught the flash of disapproval.

"What's wrong?" I asked, already guessing the answer.

He hesitated, then shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but if you're gonna be seen with me, you need to start dressing better. You can't show up looking like... that."

I frowned. "But there's nothing wrong with my outfit. Back home, people love this. This is one of my best."

Alex chuckled, almost sympathetically. "Peter, you're not back home anymore. No offense, but here? That looks like a rag." He lowered his voice. "Berrocks is a different world."

I bristled. "What do you expect me to do? You know where I come from. This is what I have. I'm not gonna kill myself to impress anyone."

Alex sighed. "I'm not asking you to go broke. I'm just saying... first impressions matter here. You're interested in a certain girl, right? You want her to see you at your best."

I shifted uncomfortably. "So what do I do?"

"Simple," Alex said, flashing a grin. "I've got clothes you can wear. Come on."

I followed him to his room, and watched as he rifled through a wardrobe that looked straight out of a magazine-sleek suits, designer shirts, everything polished and perfect. He picked a few things and tossed them at me.

"You serious?" I asked, still stunned.

"Completely. Go get dressed."

Minutes later, I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing myself. The clothes fit like they were made for me. I looked... confident. Important.

"I can't believe this," I muttered.

Alex clapped me on the back. "Told you. You look better than me in those."

I laughed-really laughed-for the first time since arriving at Berrocks. "Thanks, man."

"No big deal. You're my roommate. Gotta keep the team strong."

We grabbed our stuff and headed for class.

When we arrived, the classroom buzzed with chatter. Alex wasted no time introducing me to his circle of friends-Sean, William, Ben, Lucas, and Jackson.

"Guys, meet my roommate, Peter."

I shook their hands, grateful for the warm smiles. For a second, I felt like maybe-just maybe-I could fit in here.

But the moment was short-lived.

All heads turned as the "Gaga Girls" made their entrance-beautiful, magnetic, every eye drawn to them. Even Sean couldn't help himself.

"Man, look at them," he groaned.

Lucas laughed. "Today, I'm getting one of their numbers. Mark my words."

Their chatter faded as the lecturer walked in and class began. We scrambled to our seats.

During the break between lectures, Sean plopped down beside me.

"I've been checking out your outfit all day," he said, flashing a grin. "You're killing it, man."

"Thanks," I said, a little embarrassed.

"Where'd you cop that? Must've cost a fortune."

I hesitated. They'd find out eventually. Might as well be honest.

"Actually, Alex lent it to me," I admitted.

Their smiles faltered. Confused glances bounced between them. I caught Alex's brief, tight expression.

Sean raised an eyebrow. "Wait-what? Alex gave you his clothes? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "He's my guy. Simple."

The group exchanged more looks, whispering behind cupped hands. It didn't feel friendly anymore.

William leaned in, trying to sound casual. "So... Peter, where exactly are you from?"

I swallowed hard. "I'm from a modest background. Got a scholarship to be here."

The temperature in the room dropped. I heard the murmur of judgment, felt the shift in the air. And then-Sean, loud and cruel:

"A scholarship kid, huh? Berrocks doesn't hand those out like candy. Must be a real charity case!"

The others laughed. Loud, merciless. Their mocking echoed in my ears.

And worst of all-Angelica. She was laughing too.

It was like a punch to the gut.

There's nothing more painful than watching the girl you like laugh at your humiliation.

Right then, I wished I could disappear.