Between Bruises and Butterflies

Masks and Monsters

Sunlight poured through the glass walls of the Cole mansion.

It was the kind of silence that screamed of perfection too clean, too cold.

Andrain Cole sat at the long dinning table, dressed in a crisp uniform, his posture straight, his expression emotionless

His father, Mr. Cole didn't look up from his tablet as he spoke.

"You're meeting the Alston girl after school", he said flatly. "Her family's investment will push our merger through."

"I'm not interested," Andrain replied, not looking up either

His father's voice hardened. "You don't have to be, just act like you are."

Andrain clenched his jaw, fork digging into the omelet. Every word flat like a leash around his neck.

Across the table, his sister Ariana quietly sipped her juice, her eyes flicking towards him in silent worry. But she knew better than to speak when their father was around.

As the conversation ended, Andrain stood abruptly. His father's final words followed him like a curse.

"You were born a cole, Andrain. Act like one."

By the time he got to school, his mask was back in place the cold, untouchable, arrogance everyone feared

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Elara's alarm had already gone off twice, but she sat on the edge of her bed, tying her shoelace. Once, then again she does that everytime, just to make sure they were tight enough. It was a habit she couldn't shake. Two knots, always two. Because when everything else in her life fell uncertain, at least her shoes would stay in place.

"Elara honey," her mom called, cheerful despite the early hour. "You'll be late again."

"I'm coming, mom," Elara said, her voice catching a little as she adjusted her uniform skit.

When she entered the kitchen, her mother was plating breakfast a few slices of bread, a bit of scrambled eggs, and something wrapped carefully in foil. Lunch, she said, smiling. "And.... I packed extra for your friend. June, right? The one who talks too much."

Elara laugh softly. "That's the one."

Her mother's smile faded slightly as she brushed a strand of Elara's hair aside. "Don't let anyone make you feel small today, okay? You're worth more than what they see."

Elara swallowed, nodding. "I know, mom." But deep down, she didn't believe it, not yet.

She left home, the weight of her back pack feeling heavier than usual, her mother's voice echoing in her head like a prayer.

By the time she reached Ravenswood High, the world had changed the air sharper, the walls taller, the student louder.

It was a world built on names, power, and money. And she had non of those things

The courtyard buzzed with noise as students gathered, whispering, laughing and pretending not to stare when Andrain and his friends, Ethan, kieran and Leo walked pass.

They were know as the Ravens untouchable, dangerous, beautiful in a way that made people look twice before daring to breathe.

Elara stood by the vending machine, counting her coins carefully when June bounded towards her, hair bouncing, smile bright.

"You won't believe this, I think Ms. parker is actually dating the gym teacher," she whispered dramatically.

Elara chuckled, shaking her head. "June you are incorrigible."

I don't know what that means, but it sounds fun," June said with a grin.

Elara smiled, and for a moment, the day felt normal. Until a familiar voice sliced through the air.

"Well, if it isn't our scholarship charity case."

The laughter died instantly.

Andrain's voice was smooth, but it carried a weight that silenced the crowd. He stood only a few foot away, one hand in his pocket, his eyes fixed on her.

Elara froze. June stepped slightly forward, frowning. "Back off, Andrain"

But Andrain ignored her, his gaze never leaving Elara's.

"You have been walking around here like you belong," he said, stepping closer. "Funny did you forget who you are, or should I remind you?"

Elara's heart pounded. She tired to speak, but her throat felt tight.

"Say something," he pressed. "Or do you only know how to bump into people and ruin their shoes?"

A few students snickered, the memory of the Accident spreading like wildfire.

Elara's hand trembled. "I said I was sorry," she whispered.

Andrain's smirk was cruel. "Sorry doesn't fix what's broken."

He moved even closer, his word low but sharp enough to cut.

"Girls like you should know your place."

June's voice wavered. "That's enough "

But Andrain turned his gaze on her, and the fire in her eyes faltered. "You should pick better friends," he said coldly. "They might drag you down."

He turned back to Elara. "You wanted to prove that you belong here? Then prove it. Clean it up."

Her brows furrowed. "What?"

He tossed a cup of iced coffee on his hand, the liquid splattering across the polished floor.

"Clean. It. Up."

Laughter rippled through the student like thunder. Someone pulled out a phone; Another whispered her name.

Elara's throat burned as humiliation washed over her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes.

June stepped forward, shaking her head. "Elara, don't"

But Elara bent down, her fingers trembling as she wiped the spill with the edge of her sleeve. Every second felt like an eternity, the sound of laughter, louder, and crueler.

Andrain stood above her, his shadow falling across her face

For a brief moment, his expression flatered, a flicker of something unreadable, but it was gone before she could see it clearly.

When she finally stood, her hand stained with coffee, she met his gaze with trembling defiance.

"I hope you're proud of your self," she whispered.

He leaned close, graped her by the hand, his voice barely a breath. "Pride's all I have left."

Then he turned away, the Ravens following, laughter echoing in their wake.

By the time school ended, the whispers had spread through every hall way, every locker, every phone screen.

Elara walked home in silence, the weight of the wall pressing down on her.

When she reached her small house, her mother greeted her warmly, but Elara only smiled faintly, mumbling something about home work before running to her room.

She locked the door, pressing her back against it. Her legs gave out, and she sliced to the floor, the first sob breaking free before she could stop it.

Elara buried her face in her palms, her body shaking with quiet, uneven breaths. The humiliation she had tired to swallow all day finally crashed over her like a storm.

Her chest hurt.

Her throat ached.

And no matter how hard she tired, she couldn't stop replaying it, his voice, his smirk, his laughter.

It was everywhere.

She curled her knees to her chest, pressing her forehead against them. "Why me?" she whispered.

"What did I ever do to deserve this?"

Her tears stained the hem of her skirt. The silence of her small bedroom wrapped around her like a heavy blanket, pressing in, suffocating.

Then.. a soft knock.

"Elara?"

Her mother's voice. Gentle. Careful.

Elara froze, bitting her lips.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?"

She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to steady her voice. "Y..yeah, I'm fine mom. Just tired."

A pause. Then the sound of her mother's hand against the door, a comforting pat.

"I made your favorite," she said softly "spaghetti and meatballs. Come and eat before it gets cold, okay?"

"Okay, mom," she managed to say.

"Alright," her mom replied. "I'll keep it warm for you."

Her footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving Elara in the quiet again.

Elara stared at the door for a long time. Then she stood slowly and walked to the mirror. Her reflection stared back, red eyes, streaked cheeks, hair messy from running her fingers through it too many times.

She barely recognize herself.

"Don't let them win," she whispered to her reflection.

Her voice trembled, but there was something different in her eyes now, something raw, something alive.

"They don't get to break you."

She straightened her uniform collar and exhaled shakily. Somewhere deep inside her, the pieces that have cracked today began to harden into something stronger.

It hurt... God, it hurt but pain had always been her teacher.

And she wasn't done learning.

She sat at her desk, pulling out her worn notebook, the one filled with dreams, sketches, and quotes she'd written over the years. She flipped through the pages untill she found her favorite lines, one she'd copied months ago from a library book;

"Even broken wings can learn to fly again."

Her fingers lingered on the words.

Then she wrote beneath them, in small, determined letters;

"He won't see me cry again."

Outside, the wind picked up, brushing against the windowpane. Somewhere across the city, in his perfect mansion of glass and silence, Andrain Cole sat in his room, replaying the moment too.

But for reasons he couldn't explain...... it didn't feel as satisfying as it should have

Normally, after a day of show off, pushing people around, been the center of attraction..... He felt light. Powerful. Untouchable.

But tonight?

His chest felt tight.

Almost uncomfortable.

He tossed his phone aside and ran a hand through his hair, irritated at himself for even thinking about it.

Why the hell did her face keep showing behind his eyes?

The moment she'd looked at him

Not angry.

Not scared.

Just... hurt.

That look had hit him harder than any insult ever had.

"Tch.." He scoffed and sat up. shaking the thought off. "She's just a girl. I don't care"

But the more he tired to convince himself, the heavier the room seemed.

Quiet.

Still.

Too still.

He grabbed his basketball and spun it on his finger, a habit that usually calmed him.

But tonight the ball slipped and landed on the floor with a dull thud.

His eyes narrowed.

Why couldn't he focus?

Why couldn't he breathe properly?

He walked to the mirror above his dresser, the moonlight cutting across half his face.

His own reflection stared back, perfect hair, perfect posture, perfect everything

Andrain Cole.

The boy everyone admired.

The boy no one challenged.

The boy who always won.

So why did he feel... wrong?

Images flashed in his mind again:

Elara's hand trembling.

The way she looked down, trying not to cry.

The laughter around her.

His sister Ariana's disappointed glare.

He remembered Ariana's voice earlier:

"You went too far."

Andrain exhaled sharply.

"Did I?" he muttered.

No, he wasn't supposed to feel guilty.

Guilt wasn't in his vocabulary.

Feelings were for weak people.

That's what his father always said.

Just as the thought crossed on his mind, his phone buzzed.

A text from his father saying:

"Meeting tomorrow morning. Wear the suit I got you. Don't embarrass me."

Andrain's jaw tightened.

He turned the phone off and dropped it on his table.

His room suddenly felt colder.

Empty.

Lifeless.

He lay down on his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes.

But all he could see was Elara walking away, her shoulder shaking.

It annoyed him.

It confused him.

And somewhere buried deep he didn't want to admit it..

It bothered him.

A knock sound on his door.

"Andrain?"

Ariana's voice.

Soft, worried.

He didn't answer.

She hesitated on the other side, then said quietly:

"Goodnight."

He waited untill her footsteps faded, then let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He wasn't use to feeling anything he couldn't control.

But tonight.....

Tonight felt different.

"Whatever," he whispered to himself. "She'll get over it."

But even as he said it.

Even as he closed his eyes.

Somewhere deep inside him, a crack had already formed.

One that will only grow from here