"Where... where am I?" Aria said, staring at the ceiling in absolute confusion.

Her head throbbed, a heavy pressure settling behind her eyes. She tried to lift her arm, but it felt weak, almost numb. Nausea twisted in her stomach, leaving her mouth dry, with an ugly chemical taste lingering. As she placed her hands on her forehead as if to ease the pain, it all came back in slow, disjointed waves. 

She had taken some of Cassie's prescription anxiety pills, the little blue tablets Cassie always said helped her "relax" during exams. They weren't meant for her, not really, but Cassie practically begged her to try just one to take the edge off. Aria had been anxious, desperate to feel something other than the constant humiliation and restlessness that had dogged her life since the move. She couldn't remember exactly how much she was supposed to take; in her frustration, she took a wild guess and swallowed three. Three pills shouldn't have knocked her out, should they? She remembered her pulse hammering in her ears, the room spinning slightly, her skin clammy and cold despite the sweat on her back.

Cassie had told her a little bit of dizziness was normal, but this had felt heavier: a fog settling over her mind, her limbs growing heavier as she tried to stand. She thought she might just lie down for a minute until it passed. The next thing she remembered was this sterile ceiling. She tried to focus, fighting the waves of grogginess and the sick churn in her gut. "I can't be in a hospital," she thought, but even thinking felt slow, like her brain was wading through mud.

Aria's thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound from the door, and she saw her dad walk in.

"Aria, oh my goodness, are you okay now?" Her dad said as he rushed immediately to her bedside and held her hands

"Don't ever scare me like that, okay? The doctor said you took an overdose of a certain drug or something, Aria. Why would you do that? So, it's no longer drinking, you're doing drugs now?" He said, shaking his head in a mix of anger, sadness, and disappointment.

"No, Dad, I promise it isn't what it looks like, I'm not into drugs, Dad, I just wanted to..." 

"Wanted to what? See how it feels to throw your life away? I was worried sick. I went to your room, and I found you unconscious, Aria, you were unconscious! I thought I... I thought I lost you, Aria," he said, almost at the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry, Dad, okay? I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I promise I'll change. I don't like seeing you like this."

Aria swallowed hard, her throat tight as she looked at her dad's face; tired, aged, scared. She had never seen him like this before, and the guilt hit harder than the headache pulsing behind her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he let out a deep breath, the kind that sounded like it had been trapped inside him for years.

"I know you say you'll change," he said quietly, sinking into the chair beside her bed, "but Aria... this isn't the first time I've heard that."

She looked away, blinking back the sting in her eyes. "Dad, please. I mean it this time, I'll try, I want to".

He was quiet for a moment, rubbing his forehead as if picking his words carefully. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer but weighed down.

"That's why I made a decision."Aria's heart sank. "Dad, what do you mean, what decision?"

She hesitated, and that was how she knew this wasn't small.

He never hesitated.

His lips parted like he wanted to soften the blow, but the words caught in his throat. He let out a shaky breath. "You're... leaving tomorrow." He didn't look at her when he said it, as if the sentence itself weighed too much. 

For a heartbeat, Aria's mind went completely blank. Then her thoughts crashed in all at once, panic chasing cold denial through her veins. A roaring filled her ears, hot and sharp, and she felt her fingers go numb where they twisted in the bedsheets. It was like the floor tilted under her. No. No, this couldn't be happening, not like this. Her heart pounded, wild and desperate, and for a split second she wanted to yell, to run, to do anything except sit there while her whole world tilted on its axis. The words bounced around in her skull: leaving tomorrow. Her breath stuttered, shallow with disbelief and the beginning of anger that hadn't found words yet.

"You're going to stay with your mother for a while. I can't do this anymore."

Aria froze

She stared at him, shocked, as if he'd just spoken a different language.

"What? Dad... No, no, no. You can't do that." She pushed herself up on the bed, the movement shaky. "I'm not going there, Dad, I don't even know her anymore. And her husband? and those rich..." She cut herself off, breath uneven. "Dad, please."

"Aria, " he said gently, "I can't keep watching you spiral like this. I love you more than anything, but I can't do this alone. Your mother and I talked. She thinks she can give you more structure right now...more stability".

"Stability?" Aria let out a humorless laugh. "In a mansion with strangers who don't even want me there?"

He stood, placing a trembling hand on her shoulder. "It's already arranged. Her husband is sending a private jet tomorrow morning. You'll be safe there. You'll get a fresh start".

Aria's chest tightened as tears finally slipped off her cheeks.

A jet.

Tomorrow.

Just like that.

Her whole life, Brooklyn, her friends, her boyfriend, school, and her dad ripped out from her.

"You can't just ship me off like this!" she screamed.

Her dad sighed and whispered, "I'm trying to save you."

Aria turned her face away, staring at the wall as if it could somehow swallow her whole.

Her fists clenched against the sheets.

She was leaving tomorrow.

And whether she liked it or not...

Her entire life was about to change again.

Aria blinked awake to the soft morning light slipping through the hospital blinds. Her head was still throbbing, but it was dull and annoying; at least the room wasn't spinning anymore. A nurse came in, checked her blood pressure, and gave her dad a small nod.

"Good news. She's cleared to go home," The nurse said with a kind smile.

"Thanks a lot, nurse," Her dad said as he stood up and adjusted his shirt.

Aria glanced at him and noticed how tired his eyes were and how wrinkled his shirt looked, which made her feel even guiltier.

As they walked out of the hospital together, he didn't say a word, no yelling or shouting. Just silence, and that made Aria feel uneasy, she knew she deserved it.

Aria sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, as her dad made a phone call and eventually started driving. The entire ride was awkwardly silent.

No music. No words 

Trying to break the tension, she decided to apologize one more time, maybe it might change his mind. "Dad, I'm really sorry," she said quietly.

"We'll talk when we get home," He replied quietly, hands gripping the steering wheel a little bit too tightly.

The car pulled into the driveway, and Aria felt her stomach twist. The house looked the same as always, but something felt different now, like she was coming back to somewhere she no longer belonged.

Her dad stepped out first, grabbed the keys, and walked straight to the front door. Still silent. Aria followed behind him, fingers nervously tugging at the sleeve of her hoodie.

Inside, her suitcase was already waiting by the staircase.

Her heart dropped.

This is it.

He had really done it.

He had really packed for her.

Her dad cleared his throat.

"I didn't touch everything", he said quietly.

"Just put the basics together. You can add the rest yourself."

Aria looked down at the half-filled suitcase. Clothes folded too neatly, toothbrush tucked into thepocket, her favorite jacket placed carefully on top. All done by him, all done because she was leaving.

"They've arranged the Jet, it leaves by nine. We need to be at the airstrip by eight-thirty".

Nine.

It was really happening today.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The anger she expected wasn't there anymore. Just a sinking feeling in her chest, heavy and empty at the same time.

Her dad rubbed his forehead, exhausted.

"Listen, Aria, I'm not doing this to get rid of you. I'm doing it because I don't know how else to help you. Maybe... maybe being somewhere new will change things."

Aria swallowed hard.

"I promised you I was going to change", she whispered.

"I know"

The words were soft. Sad.

"But sometimes wanting to change isn't enough."

Aria picked up her suitcase and headed upstairs to finish packing. Her hands trembled as she folded her underwear and packed a few books and pictures. Every item she packed made everything feel more real.

She realized she hadn't checked her phone in hours, and she didn't even feel the urge to.

Between Brooklyn and Paris, between her dad and a mum she barely knew anymore...

She was really between two worlds now.

A few minutes later, Aria dragged her suitcase down the stairs, and her dad was already at the door, keys in hand. He wanted to speak, tell her how much he loved her and how much he wanted her to stay, but he couldn't find the right words.

They walked out together and got into the car.

The city was barely awake, the trees were quiet, and the sunlight was still early. Aria plugged in her AirPods in one ear just in case her dad decided to speak to her, which she doubted. The whole ride had been filled with silence, and she stared at the window, letting her thoughts take absolute control of her.

"Please...just try to make the best of it". Her dad said quietly as he fixed the rear mirror of his car. 

Aria didn't answer. She just nodded, letting the words wash over her without really hearing them. The city passed by in a blur of early morning grey and gold sunlight, buildings she knew so well now feeling distant and strange.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her backpack, and she tried to keep her breathing steady. She wasn't ready to cry. She wasn't ready to speak. She wasn't ready for any of this.

They pulled up to a small, gated airstrip. The sight of the sleek private jet sitting on the runway made her stomach twist. Everything about it screamed luxury she had never known, and people she had never met. Staff in crisp uniforms stepped forward as soon as they saw her, politely guiding her towards the jet.

Her dad parked and stepped out, keeping his eyes on the ground for a moment before looking up at her. He tried to smile, but it faltered.

"Call me when you land", he said simply. "I'll be waiting for your message".

Aria swallowed the lump in her throat. She nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up her suitcase. Words didn't come. She didn't want to say goodbye. Not yet, not like this.

As she stepped onto the jet, she glanced back. Her dad was standing by his car, silent, the early morning sunlight catching the tired lines on his face. He lifted a small, tentative wave. Aria pressed her palm on the window instinctively, as if she could hold onto him through the glass.

The engines started with a soft roar, and the jet began to fly. The city beneath them slowly shrank, and she felt the weight of leaving everything behind pressing down on her chest.

Her old life was disappearing.

And ahead of her stretched a new world, cold, unfamiliar, and completely unknown.

Hours later, the gentle chime of the seatbelt sign pulled Aria from her thoughts. The jet descended smoothly, barely a tremor as it touched. No loud announcements, no rush of passengers, just quiet efficiency, which was quite bizarre, since she was used to regular airplanes, not that she travelled often either. Aria felt the jet slow beneath her, and before she could fully process it, the engines softened, and the cabin lights brightened.

They had landed.

When the door opened, cool air rushed in. Crisp, sharp, and unfamiliar. The private airstrip was calm and almost eerily quiet, a wide stretch of clean concrete bordered by trimmed grass and sleek security vehicles. No crowd, no noise. Just a simple black SUV waiting nearby, its windows tinted dark.

A man in a tailored suit stepped forward. "Miss Hart," he said politely. "I'm Marcel, I'll be taking you to the estate".

Of course, her mum wasn't there, Aria thought as she rolled her eyes in silence. 

Aria slid into the backseat, the leather soft beneath her fingers, the car gliding forward almost silently. As Paris unfolded outside the window, her breath caught a mixture of wonder and apprehension swelling within her. Old stone buildings rose elegantly on the streets, balconies wrapped in iron railings, cafes just opening with chairs neatly arranged outside. The city's calm, graceful atmosphere stood in stark contrast to her tumultuous emotions, leaving her awed and out of place. Paris appeared self-assured, its beauty unquestioned, while Aria struggled to find her footing in this unfamiliar world.

Nothing like Brooklyn.

Nothing like home.

The SUV slowed as it turned onto a long private driveway. Tall iron gates stood open, gold details catching the light as the car passed through. Beyond them stretched manicured gardens, fountains carved from stone, and a mansion so large that Aria's breath caught before she could stop it.

This wasn't a house.

It was an estate.

The car came to a stop at the foot of wide marble steps. The engine shut off, and for a moment, everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Aria stepped out, pulling her suitcase behind her. The wheels of her suitcase clicked softly against the cobblestone driveway, the sound echoing in the open space. She barely had time to take it all in before a woman in crisp black and white uniform approached her.

"May I take your luggage, miss?" the maid asked with a smile 

Aria tightened her grip.

"I can carry it".

Of course, she wouldn't hand it over, a little rebellious, yes, but she wasn't a spoiled brat.

"It's alright", a calm voice said.

Aria turned.

Cecilia stood at the top of the steps, perfectly composed in a tailored coat, her posture straight, her expression carefully neutral. She looked exactly how Aria remembered: elegant, distant, untouchable.

For a heartbeat, an old memory stung at the back of Aria's mind, her small hand wrapped in Cecilia's, sunlight streaming into their Brooklyn kitchen as Cecilia brushed her hair and murmured a lullaby. That memory felt impossibly far away now, thin and fragile against the cold edge of their reunion. 

"Let her take it, " her mum added gently. "You must be exhausted".

Reluctantly, Aria released the suitcase. The maid wheeled it away with ease, and the moment her hands were empty, Aria felt strangely exposed.

Cecilia descended the steps slowly.

"Welcome to Paris, Aria".

Aria scoffed

"Sure".

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

For a short second, Cecilia paused. Something unreadable crossed her eyes. Guilt, maybe, before her expression smoothed again.

"We'll talk later", she said softly. "For now, you should rest."

No hug

No apology

No explanation

Not like Aria was expecting one anyway, Cecilia turned open the doors, and Aria followed quietly.

Inside, the mansion felt even more overwhelming: polished marble floors, a sweeping staircase, and chandeliers sparkling above her like distant stars. Staff lined the walls in silence; maids, a butler, perhaps a house manager each greeting her politely while their watchful gazes made her feel both fragile and out of place.

Then she felt it.

Eyes on her.

Aria glanced up.

Two boys stood near the staircase.

The older one leaned casually against the railing, dark hair falling into sharp blue eyes, his posture relaxed in a way that felt dangerous. A small silver bar pierced his eyebrow, catching the light just enough to draw attention to his already cutting gaze. One arm was inked from shoulder to wrist, a dark sleeve tattoo that stood out against his perfectly fitted shirt and hinted at things he didn't bother explaining.

He looked over slowly, openly unimpressed. 

Lucien Duclair.

"Well," he said dryly, "you don't look like you belong here".

Aria stiffened.

"And you don't look like someone whose opinion I asked for".

Lucien's lips curled, not amused, not angry, just intrigued.

Before he could reply, Adrien shifted beside him.

He looked like Lucien's mirror image softened by sunlight. The same blue eyes, but warmer, brighter, the kind that actually invited people in. His blonde hair fell loosely over his forehead, slightly tousled, like he never bothered to tame it. 

He was tall too, built just as solid, but where Lucien felt sharp and dangerous, Adrien felt easy, relaxed shoulders, open posture, confidence without the edge.

"Lucien", he murmured, shooting his brother a warning look before turning to Aria with a small, genuine smile, revealing his dimples.

"I'm Adrien", he added. "Welcome".

Aria nodded slightly, unsure of what to make of him.

The warmth in his voice caught her off guard, and she didn't like that it did.

"Ew, Aria thought, annoyed as she pushed the feeling away.

Cecilia cleared her throat, interrupting her train of thought.

"Aria, this is Valentin".

Aria turned to see Valentin Duclair standing a few steps behind Cecilia. Tall, calm, controlled. His presence felt heavy enough.

"We're glad you arrived safely", he said 

"Yeah, right". Lucien scoffed as he walked upstairs to his room.

"Lucien, you will not disrespect your father like that". Cecilia yelled, but he was already gone.

A maid walked up to Aria and gestured towards the staircase,

Cecilia spoke again, easing the tension as Adrein and Valentin left. 

"Your room is ready".

"What's his problem?" Aria said to herself as she rolled her eyes and followed.

She didn't understand why his words stayed longer than they should have.

Paris was beautiful.

The mansion was breathtaking.

But as she climbed the stairs surrounded by strangers who were supposed to be family, one thing became painfully clear,

This place wasn't freedom.

It was a gilded cage.