Chapter 5 The new school.

A fresh semester always brought a unique hum to Harrowgate Academy, but this one vibrated with a different kind of energy for Elara. After a long holiday that had offered a brief, much-needed reprieve, it was the beginning of her final semester. Just a few more months, and then, graduation. She felt the weight of it, the promise of freedom, mingling with the familiar academic pressure. Back to school meant returning to the opulent, sprawling campus of Harrowgate, the famous elite institution nestled in the rolling hills of Los Angeles.

This wasn't just a school; it was a microcosm of the world's most powerful families, a fortress of social class and status, renowned globally for shaping the next generation of leaders, magnates, and influencers.

Elara made her way effortlessly through the throng of students in the massive parking lot. It was packed, a glittering showroom of luxurious cars-sleek sports models, imposing SUVs, vintage classics-each a testament to the immense wealth of their owners. Some students preferred the thrill of driving themselves, their engines purring impatiently, while others arrived with their own chauffeurs, stepping out with an air of quiet detachment. The air here was thick with a rich, intoxicating aura: the crisp scent of expensive designer perfumes, the polished gleam of countless sports cars and high-end bikes, the murmur of privileged voices. Elara, however, walked with a quiet purpose, her footsteps echoing against the polished marble floors as she trudged through the ornate, grand entrance of Harrowgate. Other students, seemingly unburdened by the academic or social pressures, glided effortlessly through the wide corridors, their laughter and chatter filling the vast space.

Dressed in the school's standard uniform, Elara blended in seamlessly, yet carried herself with an understated dignity. The uniform consisted of a black, tennis-designed skirt that ended just above the knee, paired with a crisp white long-sleeved shirt. Over it, a white sweater-vest with sharp black linings added a touch of formality, and on the left chest, the school's distinctive HG logo was embroidered with subtle elegance. A delicate smoke waist chain adorned the skirt's waist, a small rebellion against the strict uniform code, and a simple black ribbon tie held her long, dark hair neatly backward, away from her face. Completing her look were a pair of pristine white sneakers, practical yet stylish. For the male students, the uniform comprised black trousers, white shirts, white sneakers, and matching sweaters. One thing about Harrowgate, a rule etched in stone, was that the uniform was absolutely mandatory, a visual equalizer in a world of stark social divides.

Ascending the grand staircase to the third floor, the weight of the new semester seemed to settle heavily on Elara's shoulders. Despite her best efforts, despite countless hours spent hunched over textbooks, she often struggled to keep up with the rigorous curriculum. Harrowgate's academic standards were merciless, demanding perfection, and she often found herself spending long hours studying late into the night, the quiet of her room broken only by the turning of pages. This semester, she knew, she had to double her efforts, to push past her limits, if she truly wanted to graduate. The thought was both daunting and exhilarating.

It was their first day at Harrowgate Academy, a new, unwelcome chapter for Damien, Lucas, and Alex. Their mother, ever the strategist, had forced them all into the same car, her fear palpable that Damien, given the chance, would simply ditch school if he drove on his own. The drive had been a study in silence. No one was in the mood for conversation, the tension thick and unspoken. They parked the car in the sprawling lot, pulling into a vacant spot next to a lineup of other luxurious vehicles, each one a testament to the school's elite population. They had just been changed schools so abruptly, a decision that felt arbitrary and cruel, and it was clear that none of them were happy about it. Especially Damien, who had just one semester left to finish his studies at Moonridge, his sanctuary. This felt like a punishment, an unwelcome interruption to his carefully planned life.

As they were getting out of the car, stretching cramped limbs, a large school bus pulled by, its brakes hissing softly. It was an anomaly in this sea of high-end cars. They had never used a school bus before; it was always their own sleek vehicles or a chauffeured ride to school, a point of pride. Their eyes, along with those of almost everyone else in the parking lot, darted instinctively towards the bus. Whispers rippled through the crowd, some curious, some tinged with mockery, some outright laughing. Damien, already out of the car and leaning against its cool metal, his gaze fixed on his phone, feigned disinterest, but his senses were alert. Alex and Lucas, however, were fully focused on the bus, their eyes wide with anxious curiosity, waiting to see why everyone was suddenly paying attention to it.

After a few tense seconds, someone finally alighted the bus. It was a girl, and a striking beauty at that. Her long, dark hair rested gracefully on her shoulders, catching the morning light. Her neat uniform, despite its simplicity, looked incredibly good on her, tailored perfectly to her slender frame. She carried a simple tote bag and a stack of books clutched in her hands. What truly caught their attention was her demeanor. She didn't even look around, didn't acknowledge the whispers or the stares. She simply passed before them, a quiet, almost regal presence, gliding effortlessly through the curious crowd, as if she were completely unaware of the spectacle she had created.

"Did you just see that, Lucas?" Alex asked, turning to his twin brother, his voice hushed with awe. But seeing the way Lucas's eyes were still fixed on the disappearing girl, shining with an almost puppy-like admiration, he didn't need an answer. Alex then turned to his older brother, Damien, who was still pretending to be engrossed in his phone. "Don't tell me you didn't see her, bro!" he pressed, a hint of playful exasperation in his voice. Damien finally looked up, his eyes, usually intense, now filled with what could only be described as disgust. "I did... nothing special," Damien replied flatly, his head still looking down at his phone, already dismissing her. He didn't even seem to care about anything that was happening around them, a stark contrast to his brothers' fascination. They knew very well that, given the chance, Damien would not be here, not willingly. He was a creature of the wild, forced into a gilded cage.

Before long, a new figure approached them. She was a girl who exuded confidence and undeniable charisma, moving with an almost predatory grace. A warm, practiced smile lit up her face as she extended a hand, shaking Alex's first, then Lucas's. Then, without warning, she embraced Damien in a friendly, almost familiar hug. It wasn't reciprocated. Damien stood rigid, his arms unmoving, his gaze fixed on a point beyond her shoulder. He didn't even bother to look at her. A little embarrassed by his unresponsiveness, her smile faltering slightly, she stepped back. Alex, ever the smooth talker and social chameleon, quickly interrupted the awkward silence that was building up.

"Oh, I'm Alex," he said, extending his hand again, "and this is Lucas..." he said, lightly tapping his twin brother's arm, then moving his eyes pointedly to Damien. "And this is Damien." Damien still didn't look up, his expression utterly unbothered, as if they weren't even there. The new girl, though slightly thrown, quickly recovered. "I'm Bianca... Bia, for short," she introduced herself, her voice sweet and confident. "I'll be your guide. I must admit that it's my first time seeing this school accept students in a second semester. It's... massive." She gave a friendly, disarming smile. "I have all your information, so I'll help you get settled in your classes. You all are studying business, right? But on different levels: Alex and Lucas are first year, second semester, and Damien's fourth year, second semester, right?" she asked, her eyes lingering on Damien, clearly hoping for a direct answer from him. But she only got a quick, affirmative "Yes!" from Alex, who was desperately trying to avoid the mounting awkwardness.

"Okay, good. Let me show you around and then get you settled," Bianca said, her smile widening. As they walked through the labyrinthine hallways and bustling corridors, Bianca leading the way with a confident stride, Alex and Lucas exchanged hesitant, knowing glances behind her back. It was painfully obvious that she was interested in Damien; she couldn't even hide it. Her attempts at casual conversation were all directed his way, her eyes constantly flicking to him. On the way, she pointed out various landmarks within the sprawling school, from the state-of-the-art science labs with their gleaming equipment to the expansive library filled with what she claimed were rare and ancient texts. She showed them the sprawling outdoor playground, the pristine basketball court, the bustling school cafeteria, and the massive, impressive school gymnasium. After dropping Alex and Lucas off at their first class, with a cheerful wave and a promise to see them later, Bianca turned her full attention to Damien.

"We're in the same class," she announced, her voice softer now, giving him a warm, inviting smile. Damien just looked at her, his internal monologue a desperate plea for her to just stop talking and smiling at him. He wanted nothing more than to be invisible, to disappear.

"We are here," she said finally, stopping before a classroom door. Without waiting, she pushed the door open, stepping inside, and promptly bumped into someone. A sharp gasp, a clatter of books. "Geez, watch where you are going, idiot!" she snapped, her voice instantly losing its sweetness as she shoved the person roughly to the ground. Damien then got his first clear chance to see the person Bianca had just assaulted. It was the girl his brothers had been so "crazy" over in the parking lot earlier-the one who had stepped off the bus. A ripple of laughter, cruel and echoing, burst through the classroom, a chorus of voices delighting in the girl's humiliation. The girl, looking dazed, slowly stood from the ground, her books scattered around her, and quietly uttered, "Sorry."

"You're lucky there's a new student," Bianca sneered, her voice dripping with venom, "otherwise I'd have pulled your hair out!" She then turned back to face Damien, her face instantly morphing back into that sickeningly sweet smile. "Sorry about that; she's just so clumsy. Where do you prefer to sit?" she asked, as if nothing untoward had just happened. Damien scanned the room, his eyes quickly darting over the eager faces that watched him. After a moment, his voice flat, he answered, "Back, next to a window." That was all he said. Bianca looked around at the back of the room, her eyes lighting up as she spotted an empty desk. "Come, let me show you," she said, her voice bright, and to Damien's disgust, she reached out and pulled his hand, making him follow her towards the back. He could feel the stares of the whole classroom on him, a thousand eyes piercing him, assessing him. He hated that kind of attention, loathed being the center of any human gaze. He didn't want to be here, didn't want any of this, but it was just this one semester, he reminded himself, just this one. Then he would graduate, then he would finally move out of his parent's house and wouldn't have to be ordered around like a little child anymore. Bianca stopped at a desk and chair, a single locker seat at the very back, right next to a large window.

"Elara, come quick and move your things!" she shouted, her voice shrill, cutting through the murmurs in the classroom. After a few seconds, no one came, and there was no response from the quiet girl. Bianca's face hardened. She clicked her tongue in irritation and walked hastily to the front of the classroom. She headed straight to the girl she had bumped into earlier, who was now kneeling by the trash bin, seemingly looking for something. Bianca, with a sudden, cruel jerk, pulled her by the hair, dragging her towards where she had left Damien. "You have those things on?" Bianca yelled, her voice laced with outrage, seeing the girl's airpods. With a vicious yank, she pulled them out and flung them out of the open window.

"Why did you do that?" the girl asked, her voice weak, barely above a whisper, her face a mask of shock and pain. A sharp, stinging slap landed on her face the minute she spoke, the sound echoing through the suddenly silent classroom. Then, just as quickly, everyone burst into cruel laughter again, a wave of gleeful malice. Bianca then grabbed the girl's books and her tote bag, which were now scattered on the floor, and sent them flying out through the same window. The girl, tears brimming in her eyes, ran out of the classroom immediately, fleeing the humiliation. The laughter in the class increased the second she stepped out, a fresh wave of derision following her.

"You can have the seat now," Bianca said, turning back to Damien, her voice magically sweet again, as if the last minute hadn't happened. "I'll be at the front desk if you need me." She flashed him a bright, innocent smile, one that you'd think belonged to the kindest person alive, and then walked out to her seat at the front of the class. Just seconds later, before Damien could even fully process the scene, a lecturer stepped into the classroom. There were immediate greetings, and then the class began, the illusion of normalcy returning.

After a few minutes of lecturing, the teacher paused, her gaze fixed on the open door at the back of the room. "I am not letting you in," she stated, her voice stern, addressing someone unseen. "Wait there until I'm done with my class, or just go back to whatever you were doing." She then continued with her lecture, unfazed. Everyone in the classroom laughed, a collective ripple of amusement, but when the lecturer turned her gaze on them, they all immediately quieted down, composing themselves.

One hour and thirty minutes later, the lecture was finally over, and the lecturer walked out, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Then, the girl, Elara, slowly walked in. In her hands, she carried a battered tote bag and some books that seemed to have pages torn from their bindings, damp and dirty. She then walked directly towards Damien, her eyes downcast, and took the seat next to him, the only one remaining open in the entire classroom. She packed her damaged books into the locker beneath the desk, then took out one particular book and, without a word, walked out again. "She has gone to the library, to try and fix those books," Bianca said, her voice falsely sweet as she looked at Damien from her front-row seat. "Can't afford anything at the school cafeteria, not even water... anyway, let's go to the cafeteria; I'll treat you with something." She smiled brightly at Damien, expecting him to agree.

Damien, however, was still consumed by the memory of his father's words, the other day, the unexpected confrontation still lingering heavily in his mind. He hadn't planned to be in this school at all, had fought against it with every fiber of his being. But something about his father's unwavering gaze, the quiet desperation beneath his stern resolve, had made Damien relent. He still didn't understand the full depth of their fear, but the look in his father's eyes had been enough to force his reluctant compliance. The image of the girl, Elara, her quiet humiliation, the cruel laughter, the flying books, all of it swam in his mind, a jarring welcome to his new 'normal.'