Chapter 1
1237words
My reputation as a chatterbox has spread throughout the school. It even caught the attention of our infamous ice queen—Vivian.
The school beauty is gorgeous, kind-hearted, reserved, and loaded.
She said, "Aurora, I heard you have… quite the silver tongue. Could you help my brother start talking? He's autistic and refuses to communicate. Get him to say just one sentence, and I'll give you a thousand bucks."
The story begins on an ordinary morning during our high school self-study period—basically glorified indoor recess. I was lounging in my prime slacking spot by the window, quietly roasting our homeroom teacher's increasingly tragic hairline with my deskmate.
Teacher Zhang at the podium had clearly grown accustomed to my "contributions to classroom morale." He just helplessly tapped his desk, his eyes saying, "I knew it was you." I flashed my most innocent smile in response.
A weary sigh came from behind me. "Can you stop stirring up trouble? You're too damn loud."
Lucas, of course.
I leaned back lazily. "Lucas, this is what we call high EQ socializing. You clearly don't appreciate the charm of an Omega."
"All I know is that if you keep this up, Teacher Zhang will have you standing in the hallway again," he said with a click of his tongue.
I was about to fire back when the classroom door swung open. In that moment, the air in the room froze solid.
Vivian had arrived.
Our school's beauty queen, a true socialite, and more importantly, an Alpha with off-the-charts pheromone levels. Tall, elegant, with a coldness that could rival Arctic glaciers. After scanning the room, her gaze locked directly onto me.
In the deathly silence, she glided across the room on those long legs, heading straight for me.
Vivian stopped at my desk, towering over me, her shadow swallowing me whole.
"Aurora?" Her voice matched her persona—cool and crisp as winter air.
"…Yeah?" I tried desperately not to sound like prey being sized up by a predator.
"I heard you're quite… talkative." She cut straight to the chase, no question mark needed.
I blinked. Was this some new way to mock me?
Before my overthinking spiral could complete, she dropped her bombshell: "I need a favor. Help my brother start talking. He's autistic and refuses to communicate with anyone."
"For every sentence he speaks, I'll pay you a thousand bucks."
BOOM! The thread labeled "rationality" in my brain exploded on the spot.
A thousand… freaking dollars?!
What kind of divine intervention was this? This was practically a custom-designed path to riches with my name on it!
So, under Teacher Zhang's bewildered gaze and my classmates' "is-this-really-happening" shocked expressions, I was officially "appointed."
Then, thanks to Vivian's financial influence, I was promptly relocated to sit beside Julian.
Julian was hunched over his desk, curled into himself, his silver-white hair spilling softly over his folded arms. I tossed my backpack onto the empty seat beside him with a deliberate "thud."
He flinched slightly but didn't look up.
"Hey there, Julian," I cooed in my sweetest voice, "I'm Aurora, your new deskmate."
No response. Fine, I love a good challenge.
I inched closer, braving the wave of his pheromones, and continued my performance: "Don't recognize me? Fair enough—we've only met in your dreams so far."
Still no response, but I noticed his shoulders tense beneath his folded arms. Bingo! Time to go nuclear.
I glanced at our classmates who were not-so-subtly watching us, and announced loudly:
"Playing hard to get? That's not what you were doing last night when you had me pinned down begging for kisses!"
The air turned to stone.
One heartbeat. Two. Three.
Julian bristled like a cat with its tail caught in a door. His pale, delicate face contorted as those ice-blue eyes widened in shock. He stared at me, lips trembling with a perfect cocktail of shame and fury.
"I did NOT!"
The moment the words left his mouth.
Ding!
My phone chimed in my pocket. I pulled it out to find a bank transfer notification lighting up my screen:
"VIVIAN has transferred $1000.00 to you"
I glanced from my phone to the pure-hearted boy before me, his face flushed crimson and quivering with indignation. I couldn't help it—I burst out laughing.
"Well, look who can talk after all," I said, pocketing my phone and flashing him a Cheshire cat grin. "Pleasure doing business with you, partner."
Julian's face cycled through an impressive spectrum—crimson to ghost-white to an alarming shade of purple. Finally, as if someone had pulled his plug, he collapsed back into his seat.
From across the classroom, I felt the heat of someone's stare boring into me. Lucas.
Without turning, I could picture his expression perfectly—furrowed brow, white-knuckled fists. I could practically read his thoughts: that I, as an Omega, had no shame and would do anything for cash. Or maybe it was something deeper—a fundamental helplessness.
In this ABO-dominated world, Betas like him were blind to the invisible dance of pheromones.
Poor Beta boy. My childhood friend left in the dark.
Anyway… I glanced at Julian beside me, his ear tips glowing red, then patted the warm phone in my pocket.
One thousand dollars per sentence.
Damn, this money was worth every bit of trouble.
The moment the bell rang, Lucas cornered me at the door, his face stormy as a temple guardian statue.
"Aurora," he growled, barely containing his anger, "why are you hanging all over Julian? The entire grade is saying you'd do anything for a quick buck!"
I crossed my arms, leaning lazily against the doorframe, and rolled my eyes. "First off, I'm not 'hanging all over him'—I'm conducting a paid, humanitarian language rehabilitation project. And second, people can talk all they want, but are they cutting me checks?"
"Have you no shame?" His voice rose sharply.
"Since when does a Beta prince like you get to dictate my life?" My temper flared to match his. "Aren't you always whining about how my chatter gives you migraines? Now that I've redirected my 'noise pollution' to someone who actually needs it, you're still bitching? What's your deal, Lucas? Do you just not feel complete unless you've criticized me at least once a day?"
"I'm looking out for you!"
"Looking out for me?" I let out a harsh laugh. "Save the holier-than-thou crap. My business is my business. I do what I want, and what exactly are you going to do about it?"
With that, I shouldered past him and stalked away without a backward glance. Behind me, Lucas stood speechless, too furious to form words. Bad blood between us—perfect.
Back at my desk, I took a breath and launched into some serious self-reflection.
What's my deal? Why do I care so much about Julian? Have I actually caught feelings? And Lucas—why does his anger bother me so much? Is this tangled emotional mess what they call the "trials of youth"?
I closed my eyes and carefully replayed the scenes.
Julian's ice-prince face, flushed pink from my teasing… undeniably hot.
Lucas just now, all frustrated with those wide puppy-dog eyes… hmm, kind of adorable too.
…wait a second.
My eyes snapped open as realization hit me like a thunderbolt.
Oh my god.
I didn't have special feelings for either of them. I wasn't caught in some clichéd ABO love triangle drama.
I was just… thirsty as hell.
