chapter two

The hubbub got louder as they got closer. It came from the fancier-then-it-needed-to-be cafeteria this school had. It honestly looked like a five-star restaurant.

The cafeteria was huge with round tables placed artfully around. The partition of the room was mostly floor to ceiling windows letting a lot of natural sunlight in and made the chandelier sparkle when the sun rays hit them. The small number of walls that actually existed were painted rose gold and seemed to shimmer. The tables were decorated with a silver overthrow with black mesh covering it. A full silver and black cutlery set was placed upon the tables along with rose gold serviette rings with white serviettes. The cafeteria had different bars and a buffet filled with food from all over the world: roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for the English, haggis for the Scottish, biltong snacks for those from South Africa, halal for the Islamic students and many different types of foods that Alice couldn’t even pronounce. The chefs made dishes for all the different cultures and religions that attended Crawford.

Iris will admit that she likes that Crawford accepted different people. (Along as you’re rich.) It was always fascinating to see different people interact.

Iris and Victoria stood at the top of the grand staircase that led to the cafeteria. This height gave her the advantage to see the entire restaurant, but the crowd of teenagers stole their attention. They stood in a half-circle formation, pushing a boy around, violently. He was already bleeding from his nose and was stumbling around barefoot. With a quick glance, Iris saw that his -probably expensive- shoes were in the hands of Iris’s main tormenter, Stephanie Nicholson.

Iris’s eyes widened in realisation: the teenagers were facing them and they were standing at the top of the grand staircase. With a quick “Come on!” Iris grabbed Victoria’s wrist and together they jogged down the stairs.

It was the correct call, seeing that the moment they joined the back of the crowd, everyone got silent.

Please have mercy on the poor soul in the middle.

Slowly, Iris’s eyes gazed upwards. Her heart raced in her chest and her stomach rolled with

revulsion as she finally saw the reason for all this trouble.

At the top of the staircase, on the exact spot she stood just a few moments ago, stood five upperclassmen looking like they just came back from a quick magazine photoshoot. They weren’t wearing the school uniform, but rather stylish outfits that accentuated their figures and highlighted their best features. Italian shoes hugged their feet as they stood there watching the crowd with distaste and vitriolic intent.

Then suddenly, they descended. The one in the middle walked first before the other four followed forming an upside-down V formation. The cafeteria was silent except for Tom Radcliff’s harsh panting and the doof! doof! sounds of their steps.

Finally, they reached the rest of their classmates and the leader of their group stood in front of

Tom, his eyes cold and calculating as he took in Tom’s slouching posture, shivering shoulders, and quivering lips. Iris was thankful that Tom’s head was bent, knowing that if he saw Tom’s watering eyes, he would make it much worse.

“Well, well,” he said softly, his voice cold and deep as it echoed throughout the room. It was enough to send chills down one’s spine. Iris shivered in disgust as the majority of girls and boys did the same in attraction and fear.

“When I heard about you,” he continued, his eyes briefly connecting with Stephanie’s, enlightening Iris whom he heard it from. “I expected better, especially when I heard what you’ve been saying.”

He let the sentence hang in the air. Out of the corner of her eye, Iris saw one of Stephanie’s minions strut towards her with a steaming cup, before handing it over. Her attention was diverted when he began to talk. “I came here, expecting a worthy and equal opponent, someone who is better than me, richer, smarter, and, let’s not forget, much more handsome,” he scoffed, his tone mocking.

He chuckled - a husky sound - and said, “But my favourite comment has got to be the one where you said that you could overthrow me and rule this school better than we ever could. You've been running your mouth all month long, talking about something you know nothing of. Claiming you have our secret in your cellpone. Now, that’s funny!”

The rest of the school giggled before silencing down. “I’ll put this in simple terms. I’m the king,” he ridiculed, pointing to himself before pointing to Tom, “and you’re the peasant. Someing so low no one would consider even taxing you.” He circled Tom, reminding Iris of the way Scar used to slink around Simba. He stopped in front of Tom and gestured towards Stephanie who handed the steaming cup to him. “It was considered treason to even talk about defying the king. I’m sure you know what happens when such duplicity occurs, don’t you?”

It was a rhetorical question, one that intensified the quivering of Tom’s frame. He leaned towards Tom, towering over him before he whispered sinisterly, “Justice gets served.”

He dumped the scalding hot water over Tom’s head.

Iris flinched as the students laughed, Tom’s skin burning red and steaming. Tom stood there, hot water dripping down his face, covering his tears as he turned on his heel and left, not even sparing a glance at Tom, his group of friends following him.

The rest of the school saw this as a signal to disperse and left for their first class. Tom’s friend moved towards him and lead him somewhere, hopefully, the nurse who will probably send him home.

Iris stood still with her fist clenched so tight her short and stump nails left marks on her palms. She couldn’t believe people like this existed. People who bullied and humiliated others for power and entertainment.

Revulsion bubbled up inside her. At the so-called Royal Five who stepped on people for games, at the students who just laughed and helped, at the teachers who didn’t even attempt to stop them.

At herself, because she wasn’t any better than the people her disgust was pointed at.