twin chaos

chapter 3

The whispers didn't fade over the next three days; they only grew louder, thicker, and more poisonous. Walking through the grand stone arches of Saint Jude's felt like stepping into an arena where every single person was armed with a blade. Every screen was a weapon, every burst of laughter a targeted strike.

Slut. Hoe. Desperate. Ruined.

The words echoed down the corridors, bouncing off the polished lockers until my ears rang with them. I held my ruined books tightly against my chest, my gaze glued to the polished wooden floor. I was wearing a oversized pale pink jacket—buttoned up to my throat to hide the scratches on my skin—but no amount of fabric could hide the shame that felt branded onto my forehead.

I needed one anchor. Just one.

Jeremiah was standing near the central courtyard, leaning against the marble fountain surrounded by his varsity teammates. He looked effortless, handsome, and entirely untouched by the filth that was dragging me under. My heart pounded against my ribs as I forced my feet to move toward him. He was my fiancé. Our families had bound us together in secret, but surely, surely he would see through Vanna's cruel setup. Surely he would hold my hand and tell them all to stop.

"Jeremiah," I whispered, stopping a few feet away from him. My voice was raspy, broken from nights of silent crying in my bedroom.

The entire group went dead quiet. Jeremiah turned slowly, his hands shoved deep into his blazer pockets. His sharp hazel eyes swept over my pale face, my red-rimmed eyes, and my trembling posture. There was no warmth in his gaze. No pity. Only a dark, simmering disgust.

"Jeremiah, please," I begged, taking a half-step forward. "I... I need to talk to you. Privately. You know that video isn't what it looks like. You know Vanna—"

"Don't speak her name, Aurelia," Jeremiah cut in, his voice ringing out across the courtyard like a cracking whip. Heads turned. Students gathered around the edges of the balcony, sensing a scene.

"What?" The breath caught in my throat.

"I said, don't speak," he repeated, stepping toward me until he was towering over my smaller frame. "Look at you. You're a pathetic mess."

"Jeremiah, it was a setup! They trapped me in the restroom, they tore my clothes, they—"

"Do you really think anybody believes your desperate lies?" Jeremiah scoffed, a cruel, mocking smirk twisting his handsome face. He turned to his friends, who let out low, derisive chuckles. "You've been playing the quiet, sweet victim since the day you transferred here. But the truth is out now, isn't it? You're nothing but a desperate, low-class w***e trying to cling to my name."

The word hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, my vision blurring with fresh tears. "Jeremiah... no... we're promised to each other. Our families—"

"Our families made a mistake!" he roared, stepping closer to shove my shoulder backward. I lost my balance, my heels catching on the cobblestones as I fell hard onto my hands and knees. My books scattered across the dirt.

Laughter erupted from the surrounding crowd.

"You think I'd actually marry trash like you?" Jeremiah sneered down at me, looking at my scraped, dirt-stained palms like I was something he'd stepped on. "You're a embarrassment to Saint Jude's. You're an embarrassment to me. Look around, Aurelia. Nobody wants you here. You're nothing."

One of his teammates kicked one of my fallen textbooks into the fountain with a loud splash. "Get out of here, hoe!" someone shouted from the balcony. Another person threw a half-empty paper cup at me, splashing cold water across my back.

I stayed on my hands and knees, staring at the dirt on the floor. I couldn't feel my fingers. I couldn't feel my face. The world around me spun into a blur of cruel faces, flashing phone cameras, and deafening jeers.

Jeremiah leaned down, his voice dropping to a harsh, icy whisper meant only for me. "If you ever come near me again, or pretend you belong in my world, I'll make sure what happened in that bathroom feels like a mercy. Get out of my sight."

He turned his back on me, walking away as his friends clapped him on the shoulder.

I didn't pick up my books. I didn't dry the water from my jacket. I dragged myself to my feet, ignoring the taunts that followed my every step, and walked out through the heavy iron gates of Saint Jude's.

I didn't go home. I couldn't face my mother's warm smile or her baked cakes. I couldn't keep forcing that porcelain mask onto a face that was completely shattered.

As I sat on a lonely bench by the cold, foggy river at the edge of town, the last ember of hope inside me quietly went dark. Jeremiah hadn't just abandoned me; he had handed the fuel to the fire. I was completely alone, drowning in a pit so deep that no light could ever reach me again.