The evening air in Times Square was a chaotic symphony of neon and noise, but as Angel and Miley stepped onto the curb, it was as if the city hit a collective "pause" button. The flickering signs above the sidewalk seemed to dim in comparison to the two of them.
"Is that… Angel Dove?" a girl whispered nearby, clutching her friend's arm.
"Oh my god, and Miley's with her," another hissed.
Angel didn't look back. She didn't have to. She was used to the trail of whispers that followed her like a perfume. She scanned the crowd, her green eyes sharp and searching beneath her curtain of golden hair.
"You're doing it again," Miley said, her voice dripping with amusement.
"Doing what?" Angel snapped, though she didn't break her stride.
"Looking for Calvin. You're scanning every face in the city like a human radar."
Angel scoffed, tossing her yellow hair over her shoulder. "I'm not looking for him, Miley. Don't be ridiculous."
As they approached the theater, the crowd practically parted like the Red Sea. They didn't wait in the long line; they walked straight to the front. The ticket guy—a college kid with messy hair and a name tag that read Leo—looked up, ready to give his standard greeting.
The words died in his throat. He stared at Angel, then Miley, his mouth slightly open. He looked like he'd forgotten how to breathe.
"Two for the nine-o'clock showing," Miley said, leaning against the glass with a playful, cat-like grin. "Unless you're too starstruck to press the buttons, cute stuff."
The guy's face turned a shade of red that rivaled the theater's exit signs. "I—uh—yeah. Two. Right," he stammered, his fingers fumbling over the keyboard. He handed over the tickets, his hand trembling slightly.
"Pretty quiet tonight, isn't it?" Miley asked, enjoying the way he was squirming.
"Yeah," the guy managed to squeak out, not daring to look Angel in the eye. "Most of the high school student crowd headed to a loft party in Brooklyn. I heard some guys saying saying a guy naned Calvin is hosting it."
Angel's heart did a sudden, violent somersault. The boredom she'd been feeling turned into a sharp, cold irritation.
Miley noticed the shift instantly. "Wait… our Calvin?"
The guy nodded quickly. "Yeah, they were leading a whole group. Looked like a big deal."
Angel's stomach twisted. She'd spent the whole week pretending she didn't care what Calvin was doing, but hearing his name linked to some party—without her—felt like a slap in the face.
"Well," Angel said, her voice turning to ice. "Good for them."
Miley studied her friend's face. The excitement of the night had evaporated. "You didn't think he'd actually be here, did you?"
"I didn't think anything," Angel replied, her tone flat and final.
They walked into the lobby, where the smell of buttered popcorn and the flashing lights usually felt like home. But now, the whispers of the other teenagers felt suffocating. Every "Is that her?" felt like a mockery.
Angel stopped dead in her tracks near a movie poster.
"You know what? I'm not in the mood anymore."
Miley blinked. "Angel, we literally just made that poor boy's life by buying these tickets. We're leaving?"
"My brother turned my house into a nightclub, I haven't slept, and I'm standing in a room full of people staring at me," Angel said, her jaw tight. "I'm done. Let's go."
Outside, the New York streets were still buzzing, but as Angel climbed into the back of the car, she felt a strange sense of displacement. She watched the city lights blur into long, golden streaks against the window.
She was the "it girl" of New York. People whispered her name. She had the world at her feet. So why did the thought of Calvin at a random party in Brooklyn make her feel so incredibly small?
She leaned her head against the cool glass, her flower shaped pendant catching the light of a passing taxi. She didn't know it yet, but these New York nights were numbered. Soon, the noise of Times Square would be replaced by the heavy, ancient ticking of a clock tower across the ocean.
The next day
00
At Westbridge Academy, popularity was everything.
Not the normal kind of popularity either. The kind built on rumors or popularity contests.
No. At Westbridge, popularity came from money.
The students who arrived in sleek black cars every morning. The ones who wore designer versions of the school uniform like it was a fashion show. The ones who spent weekends in penthouses overlooking Manhattan or flew out of the city just for a party.
Everyone else just watched.And at the center of it all was the group everyone talked about.
The Elite
Angel,Max, miley, Jasper,Calvin, Ferrick,John, Molly , Ariana,
They were the untouchables of Westbridge. The golden circle. The group everyone wanted to be part of but never could.
When they walked through the hallways, conversations stopped. Heads turned.
People whispered.
Some students admired them.
Some hated them.
But everyone knew who they were.
That afternoon, the track field buzzed with the sounds of practice. Sneakers scraped against the pavement, whistles blew in the distance, and the late sun cast long shadows across the bleachers.
Angel stretched her arms, clearly irritated. Miley groaned beside her. "Please tell me you're not forcing us to keep practicing just because Calvin might be watching."
Angel rolled her eyes dramatically. "Whatever."
"I'm serious," Miley said. "You know you could just go talk to him instead of dragging me through another hour of this."
Miley dropped onto the bench, exhausted.
"Honestly, you can go over there without me."
Angel grabbed her arm immediately.
"Nope," she said. "You're coming with me."
"But why?" Miley complained.
"Because I said so," Angel replied, already pulling her up from the bench.
"I don't want to," Miley protested, stumbling after her. Suddenly Miley froze.
"Angel," she whispered.
"What?"
"Don't look," Miley said quickly. "But Calvin, Jasper, and Fredrick are literally walking toward us."
"What?" Angel immediately started to turn.
Miley grabbed her arm.
"I said don't look! You'll make it obvious."
Angel froze and quickly fixed her hair.
"How do I look?" she whispered urgently. "Is my hair okay? Does my face look weird? Oh my god, I look terrible."
Miley laughed.
"Relax. You look adorable."
"You're sure?" Angel asked, running a hand through her hair again.
"Yeah," Miley said, glancing over Angel's shoulder. "Just act natural."
"Natural how?"
"Like we're just talking."
"Why?" Angel asked.
"Because they're literally five steps away," Miley muttered through her teeth.
"Who—"
"Hey guys," Miley called out suddenly.
Angel spun around quickly, forcing a bright smile onto her face.
"Hey," she said.
Calvin smiled back.
"How was practice?" he asked.
"Wonderful… hot," Angel answered dreamily.
Then she realized what she had said.
"I mean— super hot— great heat— ouch!" she yelped as Miley elbowed her sharply.
Angel glared at her while Miley pretended nothing had happened.
"She meant practice was great," Miley said quickly.
"Yeah," Angel added awkwardly.
Jasper chuckled.
"So we're grabbing lunch at the mall today," he said casually. "At the café. You girls in?"
"Yh totally", Miley Answered.
"Cul",Calvin said meeting Angel's eyes who blushed. "See you girls then".
Watching them walk away Angel sighed dreamly while Miley rooled her eyes.