Chapter 5: “Worthless Things Hold No Value” – Group Conversation About Helen
879 Words
The conversation was dull, nearly dead, until Cassian broke the silence with a sly grin.
> Cassian (with a devious smile):
“Did you guys see how Helen looked at me the other day? She was practically begging me with her eyes.”
> Rheon (laughing):
“Just you? The way she blushed when she bumped into me in the elevator... I swear if I told her to kiss me, she’d faint on the spot.”
> Livia (biting her teeth, sharply):
“She plays innocent way too well. But once you’ve seen her mother, it all makes sense. She’s just another doll from the director’s toy box.”
> Cassian:
“Her mom had quite a past, huh? That house she shared with the director? Worth more in jewelry than rent. Helen’s just following in her footsteps, only with a more... ‘naive mask.’ But she’s still a whore.”
Ares stayed silent. Sipped his coffee. His eyes fixed on a single point. His expression, unmoving. Stone.
> Rheon (watching Ares):
“The funny thing is… that girl’s crazy about you. She looks away every time you pass by, blushing like she wants to be punished.”
> Cassian:
“Come on, Ares... just take the toy already. She’s living just to offer herself to you. Wrapped and delivered.”
Livia leaned forward.
> Livia (jealous, taunting):
“I saw how she trembled with just one look from you. You don’t even have to do anything. One glance, and she’d be on her knees. That mix of innocence and lust... looks delicious.”
Ares put his cup on the table. His eyes briefly turned to Cassian.
> Ares (cold and firm):
“Worthless things hold no value. I don’t touch what everyone else already has.”
Silence.
Then, the faintest smirk crept to his lips. He turned to stare out the window.
> Ares (softly, to himself):
“But toys... make the most interesting sound when they break.”
> Rheon (laughing):
“That’s the Ares I know.”
> Cassian:
“So what now... you gonna break her? Or let someone else play with the leftovers?”
Ares didn’t reply. But his eyes stared into the void.
Helen’s shy, flushed face crossed his mind.
Something about it disturbed him... or maybe something else entirely.
The morning sun strikes the cold marble walls.
In the corridor, several students stand in groups, circling around Helen.
Laughter and whispers echo — they don’t even let her move.
> Cassian (mockingly):
“Everyone knows whose house you spend the nights at, sweetheart. But pretending to be all innocent in the mornings? That’s honestly adorable.”
> Another male student:
“Babe, they shouldn’t have brought you to school — they should’ve put you in a museum. You were made to be displayed.”
Helen clutches her backpack to her chest, head bowed.
Her cheeks are flushed, but she says nothing.
No escape.
She bites her lip.
Then, from the far end of the hallway, silence falls.
Footsteps echo.
Ares.
A black coat slung over his shoulder, face as cold as the morning air.
His eyes fix on the group. One look is enough.
The students fall silent. One by one, they scatter without a word.
Helen doesn’t move.
Ares slowly approaches her.
The corridor is quiet. They are alone now.
As he passes by her, he stops.
He speaks without looking at her.
His voice is ice — the words, blades.
> Ares:
“So you don’t care how they see you…
Because you see the same thing in the mirror, don’t you?”
Helen lifts her eyes.
Her lips tremble. She whispers:
> Helen:
“Oh… I…
I’m not who you think I am…”
Ares turns his head.
At last, he looks into her face. For a long time.
Then he steps closer — hands in his pockets, body dangerously near.
> Ares (quietly):
“Girls like you always say that.
But every move you make, every glance screams ‘take me’.”
Suddenly, he leans in.
His fingertips touch her chin — not forcefully, but with control.
His gaze drops to her neck, then lower.
His eyes strip her down, piece by piece.
> Ares (mocking):
“To have a body like that and play innocent…
Feels like an insult to me.”
Helen steps back, but her back meets the wall.
She raises her hands slightly, as if to shield herself.
Her voice shakes.
> Helen:
“I… I don’t belong to anyone.
You don’t even know what I’ve been through…”
Ares’s eyes don’t flinch.
He leans even closer.
> Ares:
“I don’t care about your past. I care about what you are.
And like everyone else, I only see what’s in front of me.
You know what that is?
Someone’s leftovers.”
Helen’s eyes well up.
She can barely breathe.
> Ares (mercilessly):
“You think you’re different…
But people watch you just to use you.
Who could ever believe someone like you even has real feelings?”
That’s it.
Helen can’t hold it anymore.
She starts crying — silently. No scream.
Only warm tears rolling down her cheeks.
She can’t meet his gaze.
Ares turns around and walks away.
Without saying another word.
- Writer
