The Supremacy War

Chapter 1: Damien Kingsley

Ever since I stepped foot into this academy, my goal has been to honor the legacy my father and grandfather before me has set in place. Given my last name, I should walk as if I built this school day by day with my bare hands. Damien Kingsley. The Kingsley last name is the wealthiest last name you had ever heard in France and now in America. The Kingsley name is embedded with old money and leaves the people in pure shock at how much of the world we own.

I am a proud Kingsley. Yet, I am bringing disgrace to the name with my current infatuation.

As I sit in the private lounge area for the nobles, I stare at my dimly lit phone screen. The photo displays a tanned skin devil with dark grey eyes. Could pass for black if you catch it from a straight angle. In the picture, he is in mid stride walking into the Varsity Country Club building that houses all that is wealthy. In a stranger's eye, he is doing absolutely nothing wrong, but in my eyes, he is doing everything wrong. To begin with, he is on probation after very public altercation with four members during Teen Week, therefore he should not be there. The beast of a man fought a 1v4 that he made look like a 1v1. He is also suppose to be at a meeting if this was taken at 6:34 am. He has a student council meeting that is mandatory for him considering he is the President of the fucking school he attends: Rutherford Private Institute. The name of that school alone makes me irritated. Add in a murderous mademan's heir and I am close to raising hell.

For generations our two schools have held hatred for one another for well accepted reasons. The rivalry of the schools run deeper than petty sports or academic wars. Blood has been shed and names have been tarnished.

And yet I am here looking at the enemy in a way ancestors before me would skin me alive for.
"Earth to Damien, we need to approve of the set ups for the fundraiser. Come on, this is like the tenth time in the pass ten minutes that you have zoned out? Who are you looking at?"

I quickly shut off my phone and push my nosy best friend away. Junior Kingsley. My favorite cousin. We have been inseparable since birth and I wouldn't have it any other way. The 6'1 brown haired giant has a way of words and knows how to get me out of my self-deprecating mindset sometimes. I truly cherish the guy.

"Rein" (nothing)

I didn't want him nor anyone to discover my newly obsession. I mean task. It will only lead to everyone assuming the worse which will never happen.
"Revenons a nos moutons."(Get back to work). He stares at me skeptical while saying. I sometimes hate how close we are that we can pick up on each others emotions and behaviors. This makes it truly impossible to keep a secret sometimes.

"I am starting to wonder if we need to send out a vote for a new President. I think your batteries are starting to get old now." He continues to tease me. His green eyes are gleaming with a sight of playfulness that makes me let out an unruly chuckle. This over grown manchild loves threatening my position when he finds a rare mistake on my behalf.
"You wish Junior. How about you worry about your position as secretary being threatened by Helene rather than wasting your time trying to impeach me from a status I will always have wherever I go."

"Oh lookie, the prideful narc we all now and love is back. Thank you for putting me in my place your highness." He stands up and proceeds to do a proper bow while winking at me. I laugh and look smugly at him. I love this.

"Seriously, we need to decide on the booths we are going to set up at the fundraiser. Mr. Frazier told us we need some of the best booths because competition this year is coming back."
"You don't mean." I abruptly look up at him in disbelief.

"Yes, Ruthless is participating again after a two year hiatus. We do not know why but I am positive it's for illegal purposes. Nothing is ever good with them." Junior lays back in the chair with his right hand running though his curly hair. He is thinking the worse. Hell, I am too. Why did Rutherford think this year would be a great year to make a comeback. Two years ago, Rutherford decided to pull from the annually market fundraiser. The point of the fundraiser is to create small markets with product to sell and make revenue off of for 3 days then donate 60% to the charity of your choice. People from all across California, The United States, even other countries come to buy from this market. Rutherford pulled out after being accused of selling drugs and other illegal weaponry in disguise as goods.

They quote, "We will not be treated as criminals." despite their entire school being funded by criminal lords and other illegal businesses. Personally, I believe they should have been banned long time ago from anything concerning the people California since they are the reason most of them disappear. But, here they are making a surprise return without a fight because this city, let alone state is fooled by their flashy looks and drool-worthy funds.

I suspect something really shady going on involving the government with continuously allowing them to get away with multiple forms of racketeering. Yet, I would be a hypocrite if I only discuss their crimes and demand they did charged for them.

...Well, call me a hypocrite then.

"Well for sure allow the athletic organizations to set up main booths in the area. They were accountable for about 45% of the revenue alone at last years event because of the win they obtained before hand. With winning the basketball championship against Rutherless not to long ago, we should expect that number to increase." I say looking over more papers that hold booth descriptions.

"I agree, Cyrus and the guys did an excellent job at making those bastards eat shit. I'll let them know to make an abundance of merch for every athletic division."

"Good."

"What about Plato's tech stand? I heard he came up with some impressive technology recently that even President Hillingworth was debating about visiting the school. This could put us way ahead of the status game with Rutherless. Especially, since the President's family was spotted dining with them a couple weeks ago."

My jaw clenches as Junior continues to rattle on about the status battle and how far behind we are. My dad has been on my ass since he found out the President of the United States had fine wine and dined with those thugs. Since then, I found myself stalking Rutherford's every move. I am almost positive that explains my most recent obsession.

"Well make sure Plato gets a big booth and has the necessary supply and set up because he will be in the front. But, tell him to start on something new. He does not have to finish it but start on something and that will be placed in back. If the President is really in attendance and is interested, we can lure him back there, have photographers set up on the outside and get pictures of him walking inside our cut. If he does, we will definitely be able to talk to him and get him on the right side of the fence, plus everyone would go into a frenzy because the President does not walk into a cut no matter what." I smirk as I walked 15 steps towards to the coffee machine to refill my cup.
Sugar cube, coffee, milk, creamer, foam, cinnamon.
"Let's hope that works because I refuse to be showed up a-" his words become shut off by the sounds of fist pounding the door.

"Damien, Damien! Plait, Plait!" (Please). I recognize that voice from anywhere. I placed my coffee to the desk and stride over to the door opening it. On the other side, a frantic Helene rushes in and closes the door behind her.
"De Fois, what is wrong?" Junior says while rushing over to us. Helene says nothing but shoves her phone directly into my face, blinding me by the bright light for a second.
I pull the phone back and read the capital words outloud in fucking angry.

"RUTHERFORD PRIVATE INSTITUTE STUDENTS EXPECTED TO MAKE SURPRISE VISIT TO WESTBOUND ACADEMY THURSDAY?"

"What in the hell?"