BEAUTIFUL LIAR

CHAPTER 6

(Thomas POV——-)

It got worse.I mean, my insanity did.

Before I even realized it, I was climbing through her goddamn window.

A new girl, transferring in the middle of the school year. The first time I saw her, when our eyes met—completely by accident—I just knew. She was mine. Her smile, her gaze, her touch... I couldn't look away.

I'd never believed in love at first sight. That kind of stupid, head-over-heels obsession wasn't in my nature. Sure, I'd dated before, had a couple of girlfriends, but no one had ever made me feel like this. No one had ever driven me absolutely f*****g insane.

She was skittish. Jumpy. At first, I wanted to walk up to her, introduce myself, but something about her made me hesitate. She was cautious—too cautious.

I noticed how she only talked to girls, how she actively avoided guys, brushing past them like they weren't even there.

"You like her, don't you?"

That was Gala—my nosy, pain-in-the-ass little sister who lived to mess with me.

I didn't answer. I was too busy staring at that girl, too absorbed in the way she bit her lip and fidgeted with the hem of her sweater.

Then Gala did something that made my blood run cold.

She got up. Walked straight over to her.

"Hey! I'm Galatier, but you can call me Gala. That is my friend, Emma."

"O-oh. Hi."

"You're new, right? Let's be friends!"

And then, she smiled. That breathtaking, earth-shattering smile.

I hated it. I hated that she was smiling at someone other than me.

Gala spent the entire day chattering away with her, whispering, laughing, drawing her in. And then, after class, she did something even worse.

She dragged her over to me.

What the f**k, what the f**k, what the f**k—

"This is Thomas," Gala said sweetly. "My twin brother. Oh, and by the way—he's gay."

...What.

What the actual f**k.

I whipped around to glare at her, jaw unhinged. Gay? Since when?!

But the damage was already done. The second she heard those words, Vivian relaxed. The tension in her shoulders melted away, and suddenly, she was smiling at me.

She reached out her hand, all open and trusting, and my brain short-circuited.

Her hand was small. Soft—-I wanted to bite it.

"Vivian Velvet," she said. "Nice to meet you!"

Gala told me everything. Vivian's phobia, her fear of men. The way she'd tensed up the moment I entered the room.

Her fear of men had a story behind it—one she refused to share with me. But I knew, deep down, that something must have happened to her. Something bad. Something that left a scar so deep it made her flinch at the mere presence of any guy who got too close.

Whoever did this to her—whoever hurt her, broke her, turned her into this guarded, trembling version of herself—I swear, I'd tear them apart. Rip them to f*****g shreds. Burn them down to nothing but ashes in the wind.

No one should have had the power to do this to her. No one.

if I pretended to be gay, if I let her believe I was safe, then I could get close to her.

I could be her friend.

I could touch her.

It was insane.

And yet, I didn't hesitate—-Because I needed her.

—

Weeks passed. Months. We got closer. And I fell harder.

Every single day, I wanted her more. Needed her more. She had no idea what she was doing to me, how badly I wanted to press her against the nearest wall and ruin her for anyone else.

But I played my part. I was the perfect best friend. The harmless, touchy, gay best friend.

I let her lean on me, let her trust me, let her think I was just some guy who'd never want to f**k her into oblivion.

And then, she shattered my entire world.

"Thomas... I think I like Tyler."

I froze. The words hit me like a blade to the bone. My fists clenched, shaking with rage.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think.

I didn't want to believe it—

No.

No, no, no!

It wasn't supposed to be him.

Tyler.

My best f*****g friend.

The guy who snuck around with Megan behind closed doors, who wore a prince charming mask but was a lying, cheating asshole underneath. I knew him. I knew exactly who he was.

And yet, she didn't.

She followed him around like a goddamn puppy. Stared at him like he hung the stars. Every time she looked at him, I felt something dark, something vicious claw at my insides.

But I held back. I forced myself to stay in line.

Until one day—

I snapped.

Screw it.

I wasn't going to lose her.

I was going to have her.

(Vivian POV——-)

Literature class. The one hour of the week I actually looked forward to. Not because I liked the subject—God, no. It was boring as hell, the kind of boring that made your eyelids feel like they weighed a ton. But because of one reason.

Tyler.

It was the only class we shared, the only time I could sit quietly at the back and steal glances at him without being obvious. And, holy s**t, did he shine. Like, really shine. He was the sun, all golden-haired and effortlessly cool, his presence sucking all the air out of the room.

And, of course, the girls flocked to him. Every damn time. They surrounded his desk like a Black Friday sale was happening right there, laughing a little too loud, flipping their hair, practically tripping over themselves just to get his attention. It was ridiculous.

Meanwhile, sitting beside me was Thomas, looking like he wanted to murder someone.

He always seemed particularly pissed off during literature class, and I had no idea why. Maybe it was the way some of the girls tried to get his attention too—though not in the same way as Tyler. They weren't throwing themselves at him; they were... testing him.

Walking past a little too close, fake-accidentally dropping their pens in front of him, giggling like idiots. But Thomas? He just sat there, stone-faced, brooding, like he was about five seconds away from snapping someone's neck.

And then came the assignment.

A week ago, our teacher had given us a task: write a poem dedicated to someone in this class. Stupid, right? Well, not according to the rest of the girls, who had collectively lost their minds over it. Because obviously, half the poems—no, more than half—were about Tyler and Thomas.

And now, today, was recital day.

I had written my poem. For Tyler. (Duh.) But that didn't mean I wanted anyone to hear it. God, no. I had planned to just sit there, blend into the background, let everyone else have their moment, and never get called up.

But fate had other plans.

"Vivian Velvet."

I froze. Eyes wide. Heart slamming against my ribs. No. No, no, no, no. This wasn't happening.

"Come on, Vivian," the teacher urged. "Unless, of course, you didn't finish your homework."

"I—uh—" My voice cracked. Every pair of eyes in the room was on me.

Including Tyler's.

And Thomas's.

Shit.

"I finished it," I mumbled, clutching my paper like it was my last lifeline. My legs felt like jelly as I stumbled to the front of the room.

What do I do? What do I do?!

My fingers curled tight around the paper as I looked up, throat dry as sandpaper. My voice was going to shake. I knew it was going to shake.

And worst of all?

The person I wrote this for was staring right at me——-

I watch thee shine, yet dare not stay,

For flames would steal my soul away.

Like moth to fire, I long to burn,

To dust I'd fade, yet not return.

I read over my poem and cringed so hard I wanted to curl up and die. How the hell did I even write this? What was I thinking? Oh, right—Tyler.

I hadn't said who the poem was for, but judging by the way the entire class was staring at me, they all had their suspicions.

"God, that's so cheesy."

Megan's sharp voice cut through the air like a blade, dripping with amusement. The room exploded into laughter.

My face burned. Embarrassment crashed over me like a tidal wave, suffocating. They were laughing at me. All of them. Even Tyler—I saw the way his lips twitched, how he fought to hold back a smirk.

I clenched the paper in my hands, my breath hitching. I had never felt humiliation like this before. Never.

"Shut—Up!"

A voice. Low. Cold. Deadly.

The laughter died instantly. The entire room froze, a chill settling over the air.

Thomas.

The tension was suffocating. I could feel the fear ripple through the room. No one wanted to piss off Thomas. Not when he was like this. His anger was a quiet, terrifying thing—one that didn't need yelling or threats to send shivers down your spine.

Sensing the shift in mood, our teacher quickly intervened. "Alright, Thomas, why don't you go next?" She said

I dragged myself back to the seat next to him, my body feeling like lead. Thomas didn't budge. He refused to go to the front of the class when the teacher asked, instead, he sat there, eyes locked onto me, not breaking contact for even a second

In life, thou art forever mine,

In death, thy soul shall still be mine.

'Til earth doth fade and heavens sigh,

Bound are we, nor say goodbye.

Fuck that. It made me feel like the biggest joke on the planet. Everyone was staring at me, whispering, and I could practically feel their eyes burning into my back. I just wanted to disappear.

Thomas—god, I couldn't believe that asshole. He'd done it again. Played me like some damn puppet.

It pissed me off to the point where I almost couldn't breathe. I wanted to scream at him, punch him in the face, but I knew better than to let him see me like this.

He was probably loving every minute of it, but I was done being his damn joke.

When the class ended, I stormed out of the room. My emotions were running wild—anger bubbling inside me, making my hands clench into fists. I didn't even care to look back, just wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

As I walked down the hallway, I could feel the heat of everyone's judgmental stares. Mostly, it was jealousy, hatred, and pure f*****g spite.

"Vivian!!" Thomas shouted from behind me. He was pushing through the crowd, trying to catch up, but I didn't give a s**t. I kept walking, ignoring him like he was just some background noise. I could hear him calling my name over and over, but I wasn't going to stop. Not this time.

I just needed a f*****g break. I needed to get the hell away from everyone and everything, so I slipped around the corner, away from the chaos, and hid by the gym. I just needed a moment to breathe, to think.

I couldn't face any of it—certainly not the girls in the cafeteria, who would probably be looking at me like I was some goddamn freak. I sent a message to Emma and Gala, telling them I wasn't coming for lunch, no questions asked. They kept texting, asking if I was okay, but I just ignored them.

No one understood. No one would ever understand what it felt like.

Sitting there, I checked my phone. The whole damn school was talking about me and Thomas. It was all over social media, in the school group chats, and even on the school's newspaper.

People were making up stories. f*****g rumors flying faster than I could blink. I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated.

Why? Why the hell was Thomas doing this to me? Why the hell was he acting like this? Something wasn't adding up.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Why was he always pissed off? Why was he acting like this whenever he saw Tyler?

Wait... hold on. Could it be?

Was Thomas into Tyler?

It made sense. Thomas and Tyler were close as hell, always hanging out, always together.

Maybe he was jealous. Maybe he was trying to keep me away from Tyler because he wanted him for himself. But if that was the case, why didn't he just say something? Why didn't he just be honest about it?

Thomas was gay. He'd always been gay. But this? This whole mess? I didn't know what the hell to think anymore.

Just as I was thinking all this through, I heard a group of footsteps approaching, and suddenly, the smell of some cheap-ass perfume hit me like a brick wall. It made me gag, and I spun around, only to hear,

"You're the one, huh? Vivian Velvet!"