Elara's POV

The internet didn't just chew me up-it swallowed me whole.

By the time I reached campus, my face was everywhere. Plastered across phones, whispered about in every corner, dissected like some scandalous exhibit.

Elara Crowley, mystery girl beside hockey's golden boy.

I yanked my cap lower over my face, heart hammering in my chest. It didn't matter. Eyes followed me anyway. Murmurs buzzed down the hall like a swarm of bees.

"Is that her?"

"No way-why would Harlow even look at her?"

"She probably begged for it. Pathetic."

My stomach twisted. Each word was a stone thrown my way, bruising what little dignity I had left.

And then, of course, Lyra.

She was waiting in my classroom like a queen on her throne, one heel hooked on the edge of my desk. A carton of eggs sat open beside her. My chair? Already dripping with yolk.

"Well, well, well." Her smile stretched wide, venomous. "If it isn't our little celebrity."

Her friends cackled as I froze in the doorway.

"Shouldn't you be at some mansion right now?" Lyra cooed. "Or did Alric finally realize you're trash?"

Laughter cut sharp through me. My fists clenched, but I said nothing. That was the game. Don't fight back, don't make it worse.

I bowed slightly, murmured a faint good morning. But before I could rise fully, the stench of raw egg hit my nose. Cold slime dripped down my jacket, sticking to my skin.

A sharp kick struck the back of my knees. I collapsed onto my butt, pain shooting up my legs. Tears stung, but I swallowed them down.

Lyra crouched, yanking my chin up. "Look at you. Cheap. Ugly. A little nerd nobody. Pathetic." Her words snapped into my face, punctuated by a hard slap that smeared egg yolk across my cheek.

The classroom roared with laughter.

"What's going on here?" my English teacher finally barked from the doorway. He glanced at the mess, sighed. "Enough. Sit down, Lyra. Elara-clean yourself up. Class is starting."

And that was it. No justice. No protection. Just another day of being invisible.

By evening, the whispers followed me to work.

The manager hauled me into his office, arms crossed, face thunderous.

"Elara, I don't know what the hell you've gotten yourself into, but this-" He shoved his phone at me, headlines screaming about Alric Harlow's mystery girl. "-is bad for business. Customers are asking questions. If this keeps up, you're done here."

My throat closed. My job. My rent. My last shred of security-hanging by a thread.

I stumbled out into the alley behind the club, fighting tears.

And that's when I saw him.

Alric Harlow.

Leaning against the brick wall, cigarette glowing between his fingers, leather jacket zipped, cap pulled low-but still unmistakable.

Every nerve in my body froze. I turned to leave, but his hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"Disgusting chipmunk," he muttered, low but sharp enough to cut.

My chest tightened. "W-what... what do you want?" I whispered.

"Be my girlfriend," he spat. It wasn't a request.

I blinked, stunned, until his grip shoved me back against the wall. Pain jolted down my spine.

"You're going to pretend to be my girlfriend for as long as I say." His jaw flexed, rage rolling off him.

"Stop whining. Fuck!" His fist slammed into the wall beside my head. Brick cracked.

My body shook. His eyes-God, his eyes-weren't normal. For one flicker, they burned red. Wild. Feral.

Before I could move, he shoved me down. My palms scraped the ground as I gasped. He took a step forward like he'd crush me-then kicked a metal bucket instead, the crash splitting the alley.

His phone rang. He ripped it out, barked into it, then cursed and hung up so violently the screen shattered.

His gaze snapped back to me, hard as steel.

"Your job now," he said, voice deadly, "is to pretend to be my girlfriend. You breathe a word, and I'll dig into your skin and rip out your lungs. Do you understand?"

"I... I don't-"

"Does it look like I'm asking?" His palm slammed the wall near my head, the sound exploding in my ears. "You don't have a choice."

He jammed his phone close, playing a voice note:

"Alric, you better fix this shit. Your contract, your sponsorship deals, even the championship slot-it's all hanging by a thread. You already have a bad reputation, but this? This is everywhere. It's on the news, spreading like wildfire. Clean it up fast, or everything you've built is gone."

The voice cut off as Alric hurled the phone against the wall. Shards skittered across the alley.

"But... but Lyra likes y-" I stammered.

"Who said I'm not aware?" His eyes narrowed. He gripped my chin roughly, forcing me to meet his glare. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not special. You're a pawn. And I'll use your ugly face if I want to."

The words burned worse than Lyra's slap. Tears slid down, hot and humiliating.

He yanked me upright, dragging me forward.

"W-where are we going?"

"To clean you up," he said coldly. His grip only tightened. "And don't make me repeat myself."

Minutes later, we burst into a glittering mall. Everyone's gaze was suddenly turned at me instantly-some sneering at me, others starry-eyed at him, glittery.

Alric didn't glance at anyone. His jaw was stone as he dragged me into the designer section.

He stopped, gaze sweeping me like filth.

"Do you have a shower?"

The attendant wrinkled her nose as I slipped into the mall bathroom.

"Ugh, why do you smell like cat food?" she muttered, throwing a white towel at me before leaving.

I faced the mirror. Just minutes ago, I'd been in my work uniform; now lashes, makeup, and a whole new face stared back. I couldn't help but giggle at my transformation- not until Alric reflection appeared.

"Even after a makeover, you still look like tuna fish."

Elara's POV

"I only need your best pose, not that sheepish posture," Alric muttered, irritation curling in his voice.

"So-sorry," I blurted, fumbling for words. Being this close to the almighty, most popular, ridiculously handsome hockey player makes me nervous.

"Relax, dear. Just close the distance and give me a smile." The photographer mentioned.

My legs felt like jelly as I stepped closer, but Alric didn't wait. His arm snaked around me, pulling me flush against him. I felt my breath stop momentarily, an awkward smile forced onto my lips as the flashes exploded.

Click. Click. Click.

The shoot ended almost as quickly as it started. I grabbed my phone, but it buzzed before I could even breathe. Notifications poured in like an avalanche.

Breaking News: Alric Harlow Spotted With Mystery Girl.

Exclusive: Hockey Star's New Girlfriend Revealed.

"Go change. Quickly." Alric's voice resounded, leaving no room for argument.

I slipped into my usual simple dress for college-nothing fancy, just me.

On the drive, I kept my eyes glued to the scenery outside, forcing myself not to scan or admire the sleek interior of his luxurious car. If I did, my heart might actually burst out of my chest.

The car stopped at the college entrance. Fear rooted me to the seat; I sank lower, pinching my fingers nervously.

Alric's voice cut through. "We're only pretending to date, and already you're looking for princess treatment? Should I open the door for you before you get out?"

"N-no... no."

He smirked faintly. "I will anyway. Good acting-you're already doing well. Guess you're not as dumb as I thought."

As we walked down the hallway to my class, all eyes turned on me. Whispers filling the hall. Gazed on me, some twisted in disgust, others wide-eyed in curiosity.

Alric held me close-so close I could feel his chest against mine, his cologne sharp and Rosey, definitely one of his most expensive scents. Each step made my heart hammer harder, trying to ease my breathing.

"No... way. Is this true?"

"Who does she think she is?"

"Seriously... Harlow's dating her?"

My knees nearly gave way. I wanted to vanish, melt into the floor.

We stopped at the entrance to my classroom. My mind raced, words stuck in my throat.

"I... I... should go in now," I stammered, voice barely audible.

Alric bent slightly, brushing his lips against my cheek in a quick, almost casual peck. My stomach flipped, a surge of heat and somewhat jelly feeling over me.

By four, he had whispered it-"At the stadium"-and then left like it was nothing.

The rest of the day dragged on. In class, every single eye was pinned on me. Not the teacher. Not the board. Just me. I kept my gaze down, glued to the corner seat by the window. My only hiding spot.

It felt like everyone studied me harder than the subject. Each whisper, each stare, burned more than any chalk line across the board.

Finally, the bell. My chest loosened. I packed up fast, ready to bolt for my shift at the supermarket.

But I didn't even make it out the door.

Lyra's friends. Blocking the way.

One shoved me against the wall, her nails biting into my dress. The fabric strained. Their perfume was suffocating.

"You bitch," one spat, face inches from mine. "The nerve you have to take a picture. Do you know Lyra's been crying all day because of you? When she's back-you're done. Graveyard done."

Another sneered, her hand sliding up like she wanted to leave a mark across my cheek.

"Argh, your existence is so fucking irritating."

The hand drew back. My breath hitched.

Then-

"Alric is coming!"

The words shot through the hallway like a gunshot. Their grips faltered instantly. My lungs filled again, but my knees nearly gave out. Because if Lyra was my nightmare... then Alric was something else entirely.

She let go of me so fast it was like I burned her, stumbling back before hitting the floor. I bent, snatched up my bag that had been shoved aside, clutching it tight.

"Hi, Alric," one of them chirped quickly, voice dripping fake sweetness. "Are you here to see Lyra? She's been looking for y-"

She didn't even get to finish.

Alric brushed her aside without a word, his broad frame cutting through them like they were air. His eyes landed on me, sharp, heavy, and my heartbeat slammed against my ribs.

"Let's go."

Two words. Low, commanding.

Before I could argue, his hand caught mine. Fingers strong, warm-intertwining like he'd done it a thousand times. The casual dominance of it made my skin prickle. His friends followed behind, tall and built, their presence alone radiating a pressure that made the hallway shrink. Every student nearby froze, eyes wide, not daring to breathe.

By the time I realized where we were heading, we were already there.

The school stadium. Packed. Every seat filled, everyone buzzing with pre-match energy.

And me? Pulled right to the front.

For the first time, I sat where the spotlight actually touched, not hiding in the back, not invisible. My chest tightened. This was a world I'd only ever watched from far away.

The whistle blew. The game started, and the crowd roared.

Ulric Hale, team captain of the rivals, skated like a predator circling prey. I wasn't blind-I saw the way his eyes cut toward Alric every time he moved. It wasn't just a game for him.

And then I noticed it. The flick of his wrist, the deliberate angle of his stick-not aiming for the puck, but for Alric's knee.

My breath hitched.

He was cheating. Over and over, subtle, but lethal if it landed.

But Alric... Alric was faster. Every time Ulric lunged dirty, Alric dodged clean, sliding past with a smirk that only seemed to enrage him more. It was like watching two wolves fight for dominance, the whole stadium feeding off the tension.

By halftime, sweat gleamed on Alric's temples. The players broke for a breather, benches filling. And that's when it happened.

Girls swarmed.

Cheerleaders, classmates-hands shoving water bottles, towels, anything just to get close.

I sat frozen, clutching the cheap plastic bottle I always carried, until Alric's gaze found me.

Cold. Intense. A look that burned straight through the crowd and pinned me to my seat.

My body reacted before my brain did. I stood, walked stiffly toward him, and held out my water. My hand trembled, but I kept it steady enough.

He didn't take it.

I stretched the bottle toward him, but in a split second his hand clamped around mine. My balance slipped-I fell against his chest, breath knocked out.

Before I could think, his cold lips crashed onto mine. He didn't stop, he grabbed my waist sucking on my lips.

Elara's POV

"You should learn to keep up with your acting-argh, shit!" Alric groaned, dragging his hand through his hair in frustration. " Why the f*ck do I have to be tied up with you."

The parking lot was almost empty, the only light a dim bulb flickering at the far end. Even in the shadows, his sharp jawline and pointed nose stood out. He was taller, broader-so much more than me. I had to tilt my head back just to see his face.

After that kiss... my heart hadn't stopped racing. To Alric, it was probably nothing. Just strategy. But to me? It was everything. My first kiss, stolen under stadium lights, burned into me like a brand.

My throat tightened. I lowered my gaze, blinking against the tears in my eyes.

"I...I'm sorry. I'll do better next time," I whispered, voice cracking. Tears threatened, but I forced them back.

His grip shot out suddenly, rough but steady, fingers clamping under my chin. He tilted my face up until my blurred vision met his. My lashes fluttered, clearing the tears, and then-there it was again. That flash in his eyes. Strange, unnatural. Like a wild flame hidden in ice. Not human.

"Kiss me," he said flatly.

The words punched the air from my lungs. My eyes widened. "W-what?"

"Kiss me." His tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument.

Panic rushed through me. I jerked away, shaking my head. "I have work. I'm leaving now."

He stepped closer, cutting off my escape. His voice dropped, low and furious.

"Your basic work is me. Learn to kiss me, and learn to do it in public."

My chest ached. The tears broke free this time, hot trails down my cheeks. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to step toward him. My feet dragged. My body trembled. Rising on my toes, I stretched toward his height, heart hammering-

But before my lips could brush his, his voice snapped.

"Get out."

Arriving at the supermarket breathless, I had run all the way from school. The first thing I saw was my boss standing by the canteen doorway, his gaze sharp and piercing.

I had an excuse ready, but under that glare, it slipped from my mind.

"Go...ood evening, sir. I'm sorry I'm late, I had an extra cla-"

Before I could finish my lie, he shoved his phone screen in front of me.

It was me-being dropped, being kissed by Alric.

Now I understood why everyone's eyes had been glued to me the moment I walked in.

"You're fired."

Three words. Like cold water crashing down on me.

"Please..."

"Being late is one thing," he snapped, "but showing up here after your little honeymoon-that's your reason? Out. Youngsters like you are never ready for real life." And with that, he walked away.

I changed into my waitress uniform in silence, the sting of humiliation burning through me. Serving drinks, forcing a smile at customers, every second felt heavier. But I needed the money. I had no choice.

Still, I couldn't shake the intensity of what had happened with Alric. His kiss, his hold-it clung to me like a shadow. I couldn't stand against Lyra, nor Alric. They had everything: luxury, power, control.

All I had was one goal-finish college, just like my mother dreamed, and start a simple restaurant. But everything... everything was already slipping away.

A few minutes after I finished with a string of difficult customers, they came-Lyra and her pack of sycophants.

I quickly lifted a tray to shield my face, praying they hadn't noticed me.

"Elara! Go serve them," Jane's hurried voice cut through me.

Taking a deep breath, I muttered, What could go wrong? Then, with my head lowered, I walked toward their booth in the VIP section. Only a handful of people were here-no witnesses to whatever was about to happen.

"What would you like to order?" I asked quietly.

That's when it began.

Lyra's hand shot out, yanking my ponytail until it snapped loose. My head jerked back with the force, her grip tightening.

A hard kick slammed against the back of my knees-I collapsed onto the floor. Cold whiskey poured over me, soaking through my uniform.

"You bitch!" Lyra's scream echoed in the small room, followed by a harsh slap that stung across my cheek. Her face twisted, tears mixing with rage. "I don't want to f*cking see you with Alric again. I'll gouge those eyes out if I have to!"

Her voice broke, raw and venomous. "Anyway, I just need you drunk tonight. Don't worry... a handsome guy will put you on your knees. He'll satisfy you well." Her nails dug cruelly into my scalp, forcing my head back further.

Pain burned, but anger sparked hotter. I grabbed her wrist and shoved her with everything in me. Lyra stumbled, crashing against the table, spilling glasses everywhere. Her friends held her as they gasped in surprise at my actions.

For a second, the words almost slipped out of my mouth-"I'm sorry."

That's what I was supposed to say. That's what I'd always said. Keep quiet, keep my head down, if Lyra decides to slit my throat tomorrow I won't be able to stop her.

But something inside me snapped.

I scrambled to my feet, my chest heaving, whiskey dripping down my skin. My knees shook, but my defiance was louder.

"I'm sorry." I muttered low, my voice barely audible.

"How dare you-"

Lyra's words froze in her throat when a familiar voice cut across the room.

"Alric..." she gasped, whipping around.

I followed her gaze-and there he was. Alric. Broad-shouldered, ice-cold, flanked by his teammates. The whole atmosphere shifted like lightning snapping through the air.

"Ouch! My hand-" Lyra suddenly whined, releasing me like Id burned her. She clutched her wrist dramatically. "I...I didn't mean-"

Alric's stare was merciless as he stepped closer, towering over her. His voice was low, sharp enough to slice through bone.

"Didn't I tell you to keep your hands off what's mine?"