Olivia tossed her phone onto her bed, groaning at the flood of messages lighting up her group chat waking her up.
Melrose (admin): Everyone shows up on time today. We're getting assigned project partners and I better not get paired with dead weight.
Rayna: Why do you talk like this is The Real Housewives of Valemount
Miles: Everyone chill. Let's just survive this class so we can graduate.
Cleo: We all know who's gonna disappear halfway through the semester. Cough Dr. Trent cough
Zayn: Did anyone actually read the ethics case studies??
Melrose: I live off vibes and inherited power. I'll wing it.
Admin changed group name to: "Surviving Trent's Class
Olivia rolled her eyes and scrolled further. Same names. Same voices. Same secrets. Dr. Trent's seminar was the only class all of them were stuck in — the department's idea of "mandatory bonding." Or maybe just a twisted way of forcing final-year students to pretend they were ethical.
She smirked. Ethics? Please. Half of them couldn't spell the word.
She did her morning routine which is to bathe and eat, the maids have probably cooked and do the house chores.
Done, she entered the garage and drove one of the cars she just got and straight to school.
VALEMONT UNIVERSITY
Olivia Brown arrived early.
She hated mornings. But she hated Melrose Wexley more — and there was no way she'd let that overly-contoured brat think she ran the school unchecked.
Wearing dark sunglasses and an espresso in hand, Olivia strolled past the courtyard, her steps confident, hips swaying just enough to turn heads. Her platinum-blue hair caught the sunlight like a warning sign: don't mess with me unless you want the storm.
She met up with Rayna and Cleo near the lockers. The moment she dropped her bag, they were already whispering about last night's group chat.
"I bet she knows," Rayna muttered under her breath.
"She thinks she knows," Olivia replied, too calm for comfort.
Melrose Wexley arrived next — loud, late, and surrounded by her mini-clones in pink skirts and painful heels. She had her phone glittered with rhinestones in one hand, a mocha frappe in the other, and a voice loud enough to wake the dead.
"Rachel." Her voice dropped like poison as she honed in on her latest victim.
Rachel Peters froze at her locker. Melrose's heels clicked louder now, like the sound of something closing in.
"That eyeliner," Melrose said, eyes narrowed. "Bold choice. Are you going for a raccoon or just a straight-up tear-streaked clown?"
A ripple of laughter rolled down the hallway. Rachel's face crumpled, but she said nothing.
Melrose leaned in closer, whispering just loud enough: "Don't worry, babe. Maybe someone will notice you now."
And just like that, she walked away, flicking her hair over one shoulder like it was the closing curtain on Rachel's dignity.
As they turned the corner, they nearly collided with Olivia Brown and her two closest friends. The air between them went cold in an instant.
"Well, if it isn't Discount Barbie," Melrose purred, eyes raking over Olivia. "New hair? Or just another identity crisis?"
Olivia didn't flinch. Her platinum-blue hair shimmered in the light, falling in waves around her sharp face. "Still more original than your recycled Chanel, Mel."
A low "ooh" whispered through their groups.
Melrose stepped forward, lips curling into a smile that never reached her eyes. "Careful, Olivia. Not everyone finds second-hand sass cute."
"And not everyone finds Botox at seventeen inspiring," Olivia shot back.
"Everyone, listen up! The party of the YEAR is happening at my place tomorrow night," she announced. "Pool. Music. Open bar. If you're hot, you're invited. If you're not—"
Her gaze landed on a chubby girl in the corner. "—maybe stay home and cry."
Laughter followed her like a loyal puppy.
Olivia didn't laugh. She just kept applying her lip gloss. Calm. Controlled. Coiled.
Then Melrose's eyes met hers.
"Aw, "Did your daddy finally send you an outfit that doesn't scream 'Daddy Issues'?"
Olivia's smile didn't budge. "Don't get too excited, Wexley. Some of us were born expensive."
The two girls stared at each other — two queens, one war — before breaking eye contact at the same moment. The tension crackled as they walked in opposite directions, but no one missed the icy daggers thrown over their shoulders.
...…..
"Hey," a voice said gently. Warm arms wrapped around her waist from behind. "Breathe."
Miles Harper. Her boyfriend. Tall, relaxed, annoyingly calm even when the world burned. He planted a kiss on her cheek, the tension melting slightly.
"I swear I'll punch her one day," Olivia muttered.
"Not before I do," Miles said with a smile.
That's when Melrose walked by the door — just to roll her eyes at them.
"Cute. You two should get matching loser tattoos."
Nobody laughed. Even her own minions looked unsure.
Then Melrose turned around and clapped her hands dramatically. "Okayyyy, attention, basic bitches of Valemount "
She stood in the middle of the class like it was a runway.
"Tomorrow night is my birthday bash. The party of the year. Pool, music, lights, and drama. Everyone's invited — even the broke and the boring."
She glanced at Olivia as she said that. Smirked. Then walked off like she hadn't just declared war.
....
"You going?" asked Rayna, chewing gum like it was her coping mechanism.
Olivia shrugged. "Yeah, why not?"
They all looked at each other. Knowing smirks. Hidden meanings.
"Then let's go shopping tonight, we dress to kill as always". Rayna shouted and the rest just nodded, agreeing with her.
...
Later that afternoon, the hallway buzzed with talk of Melrose's party. Students whispered, speculated, and practically begged for a proper invite — as if their social lives depended on it.
Olivia leaned against her locker, watching the chaos unfold like she was above it all. But inside, something simmered.
"Are you sure about going?" Rayna asked, zipping up her jacket. "You know how she gets when you steal her spotlight."
Olivia smirked. "Then I guess I'll just have to shine brighter."
Cleo twirled her keys. "That pool won't know what hit it."
They laughed — but only for a second.
Rayna leaned closer, her voice low. "Hey… she still knows, right? About… you know."
Olivia's smile faltered — just for a heartbeat.
"She thinks she does," she said, turning to walk away, "but that's not the same thing as knowing."
And just like that, she disappeared down the hall — hips swaying, head held high.
Outside, clouds were gathering above Valemount.
Inside, a storm was already brewing.
..........