Pretty Little Lessons

*Rory* The problem with being perfect was that people expect you to stay that way. Perfect skin. Perfect hair. Perfect body in perfect little dresses. I was the Bishop girl—heiress to the Bishop empire, a title that defined me before I even spoke. I was polished, untouchable and envied but in reality, I was just a porcelain doll posed in a glass house of marble, admired but never truly held. But dolls don't always stay flawless forever because if anyone had looked close enough, they would’ve seen the fractures already spreading through mine. “Miss Aurora, perhaps you should reconsider—” “Jesus Christ, Maddie, do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” I cut her off before she could finish, flicking the diamond studs in my ears until they caught the chandelier light. “You have been going at it for the past thirty minutes and my ears are practically bleeding at this point.” Her mouth snapped shut, her face flushing in that way I secretly adored. It was one of my little power trips, my consolation prize for living in a house where no one actually listened to me. I twisted in front of the floor-length mirror as I hummed softly. Tonight’s outfit was bolder than the one I last wore to a club, and I bit back a smirk at the thought of my mother’s scandalized face when she'd see it splashed across the tabloids front pages tomorrow morning. I was dressed in a sleeveless metallic gold mini dress that clung to my body like second skin. Lifting a finger, I traced it along the thin spaghetti straps that looked like they might snap if someone breathed too close, leaving me one exhale away from indecency. The plunge at my chest was indecent, fabric pooling like liquid metal between my ample breasts before clinging tight around my ribs with the hem scandalously high on my thighs. At the foot of the vanity, my Louboutins with their impossible arches waited beside a YSL clutch which I knew was worth more than most people’s rent. I looked expensive. I looked like a girl who had everything. I looked like a girl who had nothing left to lose. Maddie shifted on her feet, the sound immediately drawing me back to the present. “It’s only that you’ve just been discharged, Miss Aurora. Your body hasn’t fully—” “Fully what?” I snapped, turning to her with an exaggerated gasp. “Recovered? Healed? Come on, Maddie, say it. Don’t be shy.” She hesitated, wringing her hands in that wrinkled cardigan she always wore everyday. “It's not just that, Miss Aurora. There’s also been news… kidnappings, attacks—” “News,” I echoed, arms folding across my stomach. “The news is full of starving children and war crimes but somehow I’m supposed to believe the universe circled me in red pen?” Her cheeks flamed even hotter. “I only meant…it’s not safe. Not with—” I cut her off yet again with a single sharp look, the kind my mother taught me, the kind that silenced servants without a word. Maddie’s throat worked nervously, her hands knotted into her apron. “You’ve been here what—five years?” I asked, tone airy, conversational, but cold enough to sting. “And suddenly you’ve decided to care? What changed, Maddie? Did my scars finally make me interesting enough for your pity?” Her lips parted, but she faltered, eyes flicking to my wrists before darting guiltily back up. Ah. There it was. The pity. “Don’t,” I warned, my voice a quiet lash. “Don’t look at me like that. I despise pity.” “Aurora…” “Miss Bishop,” I corrected smoothly, lifting one brow. She faltered yet again, lips pressing tight, and I turned away before her discomfort could bore me further. Before she could respond, another voice sliced into the room. “Miss Aurora.” Mrs. Maribel Gus, stern and immovable and always smelling faintly of lemons and starch, stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her gaze a hardened wall I could never climb. “God…not you too,” I groaned, rolling my eyes so far back I could practically see my brain. “What is this? An intervention?” “Your parents would not approve of this… display,” she began tightly, her voice tinged with displeasure. I barked a laugh, tossing my hair over one shoulder. “My parents wouldn’t even notice if I set myself on fire in the foyer. They’re too busy pretending they have the perfect daughters. One saint and one secret scandal. Guess which one I am?” I asked with a tiny smirk. The corners of her lips tightened. “Is this still about them leaving you behind in the hospital?” The smirk on my lips quickly melted off as my eyes darkened and hooded over with barely restrained rage. “And what makes you think you know anything about that?” She stepped forward, her eyes still locked on me. “It’s because I’ve seen one too many of your games, Miss Aurora.” She let out a weary sigh that sounded almost pitiful. Almost. “Don’t you think it’s time to let go of your grudges and stop disappointing your parents?” My jaw tightened so much that my teeth began to hurt. “You don’t know a damn thing about my grudges, Mrs. Gus,” I spat, flicking my gaze between her and her daughter. “None of you f*****g do.” She shook her head slowly, muttering something about my father, about disappointment, about headlines and I just tuned her out. It was the same scripted talk all the damn time. Finally, I lifted my clutch, snapped it shut, and breezed past them both like they were ghosts. “Do me a favor and save the lecture for someone who would actually care. Spoiler: I’m not one of them.” I flitted down the grand staircase, each click of my heel echoing through the cathedral-high foyer. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like frozen rain, walls lined with oil paintings worth more than most people’s homes. Even the floor, a custom Italian marble mosaic seemed to beg for admiration. And yet somehow, it all felt suffocating. At the base of the stairs, I paused just long enough to glance toward the east wing—the perfect wing. The one my parents and sister lived in. The one that never belonged to me. Almost immediately a crack of something sharp pierced my chest, but I shoved it down, painting my face with boredom and indifference. I have survived being alone for a long time now. I was not about to break down now. As I stepped outside, the cold night air slapped me in the face and I mentally regretted my choice of outfit. Hah! All the things a girl has to endure just to rebel. Next I headed to the garage which housed gleaming rows of cars, each one more absurdly expensive than the last. Tonight, I wanted speed so I ignored the chauffeur holding open the back door of the waiting Rolls and snatched the keys from his hand for the Lambo instead. “I’ll drive,” I said simply. The driver straightened. “Miss Aurora, your father…” “My father doesn’t drive this car.” I slid inside, silk pooling at my thighs, nails tapping against the leather wheel. “I do.” The engine purred awake, low and feral as I ignited the car and gently pulled out of the garage. I then rolled the window down and met Maddie’s wide, glassy eyes as she stood beside her mother, Mrs. Gus just outside the house. “Lock the doors after me,” I said. “We wouldn’t want danger slipping inside.” And with one sharp flick of my wrist, I tore down the long, tree-lined drive, leaving marble, chandeliers, and pity behind in a blur of headlights. The gates of the Bishop estate swung open on command as I approached, and I shot into the night like a bullet, the house shrinking in my rearview mirror. Tonight, Everridge’s lost little doll was coming out to play. ***** The city buzzed with life. Skyscrapers lighting up the skyline, bright and restless. My reflection flickered in the car window as neon lights rushed by, but I didn’t look at her. Not when the night air felt like freedom and trouble waited somewhere up ahead. But yet still, I couldn't stop the mixed feelings of uncertainty that swam through me every now and then. Was I making this move a little too soon? Was I even strong enough to step back into society after everything that has happened in the past year? However, all thoughts of uncertainty fled as the sight of Eros loomed ahead of me. Feeling energized once again, I cranked up the speed of the Lamborghini and soon enough it growled up to the curb of the club, loud enough to turn every head in the line outside the club. Conversations faltered, lighters paused mid-flick, even the bouncers glanced over as the engine revved once before settling into a low, arrogant purr. Would they even recognize me? It has been a year since anyone ever saw me in public. And as undaunting as ever, the events of last year started to push it's way to the forefront of my mind to which I quickly squeezed my eyes shut, gave my head a little shake and exhaled deeply. I was here to take my mind off things for a moment at least until tomorrow and that was exactly what I would do. Exhaling one more time, I immediately switched back into the Aurora Bishop that everyone knew. The one who everyone thought had her perfect s**t together. I slipped off my sunglasses and opened the door myself, the night air wrapping around me. The valet jogged forward enthusiastically. “Miss Bishop,” he gushed reverently, his head bent at an awkward angle that I genuinely winced on his behalf. I dangled the keys between two fingers before dropping them into his palm. “Be careful with it,” I said smoothly as I patted his shoulder in acknowledgment. The hem of my mini dress whispered against my thighs as I stepped out, the clicks of my heels loud on the pavement. I didn’t have to look around to know eyes were following me as I walked straight for the door. And that was when I heard it. A muffled protest and a man’s low growl. I turned my head and squinted. And right in the alley by the side entrance, a broad man in the club’s security polo had a younger lady pinned against the wall, one hand planted just above her shoulder while the other gripped her arm so tightly it was visibly painful to see. They were tucked away from public gaze alright but somehow I'd managed to sight them. For a moment, I considered ignoring it. It was not my business. But the sound of her voice—thin, frightened and alone—itched at me. I sighed and cussed under my breath as my legs moved naturally on its accord. As I walked up to them, I quickly surveyed the area and thankfully found what I was looking for. Perfect. I could actually use this as an outlet for all the things I've kept bottled up for a while now. The sound of my heels clicked once. Twice. Then I stopped a few steps behind them. “Wow,” I began, voice dripping with disdain. “Do they teach assault during your orientation, or is this just your own special touch?” The man stiffened and then twisted his head to glare at me. “Keep moving, sweetheart. Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” I smirked. “Sweetheart? That's cute… people normally just call me princess tho.” His jaw twitched and the girl whimpered, her breath hitching as she tried to shrink into the wall. He gave me a greasy once-over. “You've got a smart mouth. Bet it gets you in trouble.” “No,” I said lightly, eyes flicking to his grip on her. “It just gets me a front-row seat to pathetic little men who think choking women makes them powerful.” And yes… I made sure to put emphasis on the ‘little’. The girl gasped softly and I watched as his face darkened. There it is. Just one more push… come on. “You’ve got one more chance,” he growled. “Or what?” I stepped closer, tilting my head. “You’ll hit me too? Go ahead. Might be the only time in your life you’ve managed to make a woman wet… from the blood in her mouth.” My last statement was accompanied by a low scathing, degrading chuckle and that was what did it. The man’s face flickered between fury and embarrassed flush at my words. He then shoved the woman so hard she stumbled but she luckily caught herself on the wall, knees shaking. The man then moved as if pushed by a spring. “Guess you need someone to smack some manners…” were the last words I heard as his hand lashed at me, half a curse tumbling from his lips as his palm connected with my cheek in a sharp, hot crack. The sting bloomed hot, my head snapping sideways, hair whipping into my face. For a moment, all I tasted was copper. Then I straightened, slow, steady, and a cold smile stretched across my lips. As if triggered, he lashed out again and struck me for the second time, this time harder than the last. With my tongue in cheek, I glanced at the CCTV camera up ahead and then grinned. “Checkmate.”