Love In The Hallways (BL)

Ben (POV) "The sound of my alarm woke me up. I looked at my time and saw 6pm. I stood up and shouted, 's**t!' I went to the bathroom. This is my first day in school. I'm so nervous. Being a scholarship student in a school filled with a bunch of rich kids will be so stressful." The warm water washed away my worries. A smile spread across my face. I'm lucky to have this chance. I won't let any spoilt rich kids ruin it. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. I walked over to my closet and put on my clothes. I stared at myself in the mirror. As I stared at myself in the mirror, I noticed the details of my face for what seemed like the hundredth time: my freckles, my unruly brown hair, my thin, almost invisible lips. I wasn't like the other boys at Centerville High, with their designer clothes and perfectly styled hair. I was a scholarship student, different in more ways than one. But I knew that what I lacked in looks, I made up for in brains and determination. Today was the day. My first day at Centerville High. I took a deep breath and gathered my nerves. I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door, ready to take on the day. But before I left, I saw my mom in the kitchen, the smell of pancakes filling the air. A smile spread across my face as I walked over to her and gave her a tight hug. She kissed my cheek and ruffled my hair, saying, "My good boy." "Good morning, Mom," I replied. "Where's Dad?" I asked, looking around for my father. "Dad's at the hospital for an emergency," she informed me. My father was a busy doctor, always saving lives. My mother, a simple housewife, was the heart of our middle-class family. I snatched a pancake from the plate and took a quick bite. "Son, go to the dining table," my mom insisted. "I'll serve you a proper breakfast." "I'm late, Mom. I'll just have three pancakes," I replied, stuffing another into my mouth. She gave me a warm hug and whispered a quick prayer for my safety before I left. With a mouth full of pancake, I headed out the front door, my stomach full of nerves and breakfast. In the garage, I spotted my bicycle, a gift from my father on my 17th birthday. I hopped on and started pedaling my way to Centerville High, the wind brushing against my face as I rode. As the school came into view, my heart began to beat faster. I took a deep breath and braced myself for the unknown. This was going to be a day I would never forget. Young master Josh (POV) Young Master Josh. Those were the first words to reach his groggy ears as he slowly awoke, his head throbbing from the previous night's party. He blinked, bleary-eyed, to see his butler, James, standing by his bedside, his expression stern. "James, what time is it?" Josh grumbled, annoyed by the intrusion. "It's time for you to rise, Young Master. You will be late for school if you dawdle any longer. The family is waiting for you downstairs for breakfast." Obediently, James left to fetch a painkiller for his Young Master. Josh, still feeling the effects of the party, made his way into the fancy bathroom and turned on the hot shower. As the steam filled the room, his muscles slowly relaxed. Once he was dry, he entered his massive closet filled with expensive clothes. He carefully chose his uniform for the day. (Young Master Josh POV) I entered the dining room, feeling a bit more alive now that the painkiller had kicked in. I observed the scene: my father, engrossed in the news; my mother, daintily sipping her tea; and my sister, chattering away about her dance class. "Morning, everyone," I announced, sliding into my seat at the table. "Can I get some coffee?" My mother, Grace, looked up from her cup, clearly disapproving. "You're too young for coffee," she said. I rolled my eyes. "Dad, can I get some coffee? Please?" I asked, turning to my father, who had yet to look up from his newspaper. He finally glanced over the top of the page. "Your mother is right, son," he said. "You don't need coffee at your age." I scoffed, frustrated by their strictness. "Whatever. Can we hurry this up? I'm going to be late for school." "Patience, Josh," my mother chastised. I sighed and picked at my breakfast. As I stuffed a piece of toast in my mouth, I caught sight of the expensive watch on my wrist. It was a birthday present from my father, meant to inspire me to take my responsibilities seriously. The irony wasn't lost on me. "Rosalie, dear, tell your brother about your recital," my mother prompted. My sister beamed. "Oh, I'm going to be the lead in the ballet next week! You should come watch me." "Don't have time," I muttered, ignoring my sister's pleading eyes. Her face quickly crumpled into a pout, tears welling up in her eyes. I looked away, only to hear her burst into tears: "Mom! Josh won't come to my dance show!" My mother frowned, her disappointment clear. "You should support your sister. It's important to her." I scoffed, standing up to leave. "I've got things to do," I said, dismissing her plea. Without another word, I made my way outside, a heavy cloud of annoyance trailing behind me. My sister's wails had become nothing more than a faint echo. My driver, sensing my mood, opened the back door of my sleek black sedan. As I slid into the plush leather seat, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. Sure, I had the best clothes, the best car, the best everything, but there was always an emptiness inside. I leaned back, closing my eyes as the car purred to life and pulled out of the driveway. My family was a perfect picture of dysfunction. My mother, always flitting from one social gathering to the next. My father, forever chasing the next business deal. And my little sister, an eight-year-old bundle of energy who could rival the devil himself. No wonder I found solace in the world of parties and popularity at school. At least there, I felt like I mattered. I was somebody. In the outside world, I was nothing more than the son of wealthy parents with a name to uphold.