The Three Rulers

Scarlet Prince

  (Nathanael's POV)  

    I was mad. No, actually fuck that, I was pissed. My "friends" destroy my sketchbook - the way I make money and my mental expression - not to mention that some of the drawings in there took me weeks to draw - and think a few "sorry"s and "Lila didn't mean too"s.. ohh, Lila.

    I knew she was a liar from the first ten minutes she strutted her fake Gucci self into my school. Saying I was relived when that sausage-haired bitch left would be the understatement of the century. But when she video-called us using that fake background, and everyone bought it - except Mari, Marc, and Chloe, of course - I knew she wasn't going to go away that easy. When Rossi returned, she instantly began spewing lies.

    Fine, I thought. Give it ten minutes. Let them see through the bullshit. Ten minutes turned into ten days. Ten days turned into ten weeks. When I tried to help my so-called friends see through the lies, they turned on me acting like I was some kind of villain or some shit. All except three people, the only ones with an ounce of brainpower: Mari, Chloe, and Marc.

    Coming out time, Marc, Chloe, and I are secretly in a poly relationship. I like Chloe and Marc, Marc and Chloe like me. Chloe and Marc didn't like each other at first, they may or may not have been competing for my affection, but then I kind of trapped them in a room and forced them to talk to each other. I don't know what they talked about, but when they came out, they were holding hands and blushing. Just like that, we became a lovebird trio. Yes, poly magic, we love to see it, but back to Liar Rossi (sadly).

    Yesterday, she lied that I stole her artwork. Me! An artist who hates the very concept of people stealing art from others! They knew very damn well that the idea of plagiarism disgusts me. But the bitches believed it anyways. They tore up my prized sketchbook. Hours upon hours of hard work shredded right in front of my eyes.

    They would've continued to ruin it too, tearing up every last page. The fake redhead had the fucking audacity to pick up one of the fallen pages and tear it in two with a loud rriippp. Marc had to step in, physically restrain me, and comment that A. They had seen me draw most of these things during class, and B. I drew most of these before Lila was even in our class. Only half the class seemed genuine when they said sorry. Scratch that, only one or two of them seemed genuine when they said sorry.

    Lie-la apologized with a bunch of fake tears, saying our styles were so similar, and she had this condition that made her memory act up because of the sun. THE SUN! 

    But even though that was so fucking stupid, they instantly stopped their empty apologizing and turned to her, asking why such an "incredible, amazing, smart, and kind" girl had to have so many medical conditions. And that girl just SAT there, basking in the pity - the nerve! First off, Lila is none of those things. Second, no human on Earth has that many medical conditions!

    TLDR? I'm done with this fucking pu-

    I was snapped out of my train of thought by a specific ringtone playing on my phone. "Confident," I said out loud, stunned. I sucked in a deep breath. No fucking way, right? I'm not that lucky.

    I whipped out my phone, and scrolled down to a group chat that, last time I checked, was last used around a year ago. Now, the date was today. Name? The Royals. As I opened the message history, I prayed to the deities that it would be about Lila (something I never thought I'd ever want). If I get the chance to take that whore down, you can find me dancing through the halls handing out party hats.

The Royals' group chat:

Mari: That's it. Lila has got to go.

Chloe: What did she do?

Mari: She ripped my sketchbook.

    I was in shock. Everyone knew Mari's sketchbook was her most valued belonging. I clenched my free fist, shaking with anger. The class of sheep ripping my sketchbook had almost nothing on this. Mari's sketchbook had designs for some of the most famous people in Paris - people who had strict deadlines for her.

Mari: It was in my locker with a note. Here:

    Mari sent over an image of a post-it note with the words: 'Give up. Your classmates hate you, and soon, everyone in Paris will follow. - Anonymus' scrolled on it in the shittiest handwriting known to mankind.

Chloe: Sausage bitch can't even spell right.

Mari: You in, then?

Chloe: You need to ask? You've gotten rusty, Empress.

Mari: Nath, I know you're reading. If we're gonna get rid of Rossi, we need our Scarlet Prince back. We need you.

    I didn't even need to think. Or maybe I just didn't think. I'd known what I had to do when I read that note.

 I'm in. Bitch framed me for stealing her art, now my sketchbook's ruined. Rossi couldn't draw a stick figure if she was taught by van Gogh himself :Nath

Mari: Good to see you've still got some sense in you.

❤️:Nath

Chloe: 💛

Mari: 💜

    I couldn't believe what just happened. Was I hallucinating? Going further down the road of insanity? Then, I smirked.

    "Watch out, Rossi. May God have mercy on your soul, 'cause hell hath no fury like us."