❤️HEARTSTRING❤️
(Lovemelody………..)
Chapter 17&18
By Triplewealth.
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚
The announcement came during fourth period, delivered over the loudspeaker by the overly cheerful voice of Mrs. Hemsworth, the school’s director of events:
“Attention students! The Brocks High Annual Gala Night is officially two weeks away. This year’s theme is ‘Midnight Masquerade.’ Invitations will go out by the end of the day. For the first time ever, scholarship students are included in the selection process! Congratulations to those who made the list!”
Sylvia was already leaving the class when the announcement was made again.
And she remembered reading about it during orientation. A night of flashing lights, luxury gowns, and magazine photographers—sponsored by Kingsley’s family and attended by every influential name in the city. Only the top 50 students were invited.
It was less about fun and more about power.
The bully, of course, would be there. Probably in a thousand-dollar dress and heels made from ego.
Sylvia had no interest in the Gala so she started walking towards the hallways
The hallway was packed—students squeezing between lockers, some pushing, some standing on tiptoe, all craning their necks toward the bulletin board in the center of the corridor.
The golden sheet shimmered under the hallway lights, sealed with the Brocks family crest. Fifty names. Just fifty.
Gala invitations.
The Midnight Masquerade.
Sylvia stood at the edge of the crowd, her bag still over one shoulder. Her heart beat steadily, almost too calmly.
She didn’t need to push her way to the front. She already saw it.
#22 – Sylvia Kelly
Gasps rippled.
Someone behind her whispered, “Who is that?”
“Isn’t that the new scholarship student name—”
“No way she made it.”
“How come she is on the list
Samara and her girls also went to the list and checked for there name
Tiffany found her name—#7–Tiffany Kelly—and smiled
Lisa also found her name—#8–Lisa Noel—and smiled
Samara also scanned the list once, found her name—#6– Samara Monroe—and smirked.
Until she saw Sylvia’s.
Her smile wavered.
Then vanished.
“What the hell?” she hissed.
Her friends looked nervous.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Brielle snapped, turning her glare toward Sylvia, who hadn’t moved from her spot.
Their eyes met.
And Samara started walking towards her direction and Sylvia felt a shove on her shoulder as Samara stormed past her, lips curled into a smirk soaked in poison and walked away
Then Tiffany muttered “Enjoy your five minutes of fame, countryside girl. Hope you have something to wear that isn’t from a donation box.”
Sylvia said nothing.
But her hand clenched the paper tighter.
Tiffany said: This isn’t over.
Sylvia’s said: It hasn’t even started.
Across the hallway,a sudden silence swept through the hallway as Kings squad stepped forward from the crowd.
Then she spotted Kingsley glancing at the list, then at her. His face unreadable.
And suddenly, the walls felt smaller.
The lights brighter.
He looked at her.
Just for a second.
Then he walked away.
No words. No expression. But Sylvia felt it—something was shifting.
Not just in the school.
But in her story.
And Sylvia felt she was being dragged into the spotlight whether she liked it or not.
(Boys’ Lounge, Third Floor)
The elite student lounge—only accessible by keycard—was tucked into the top floor of Brocks High. Leather couches. Big screens. Soundproof doors. It wasn’t just a hangout spot.
It was their territory.
Kingsley sat in his usual spot—far corner couch, one arm draped over the backrest, phone untouched. Around him lounged his four closest friends:
Kenzie – the mouthy one with a wild sense of humor and zero filter.
Davis– tall, athletic, always busying flirting with girls.
Damien – laid-back, hoodie always up, eyes half-shut but always watching.
Jeremy– the tech nerd, hacking the school’s Wi-Fi for fun.
“So…” Kenzie said, balancing a soda can on his forehead. “What’s this I hear about you playing hallway hero earlier?”
Kingsley didn’t look up. “Don’t start.”
“You spoke to a girl. Voluntarily. And not even a hot one—well, she’s hot in that scary-calm way,” Jimmie added. “The scholarship girl, right?”
“She has a name,” Kingsley muttered.
Damien raised a brow. “You know her name?”
Kenzie grinned. “He’s doomed.”
Kingsley rolled his eyes but said nothing. The name sat in his chest like a stone.
Sylvia.
The girl with hurricane eyes and no fear.
“She’s different,” Damien said quietly, typing something into his laptop. “Grades are off the charts. She’s not online anywhere. Total ghost.”
Kingsley then brought out his phone and connected it to his headset and started listening to song on his playlist
Meanwhile, on the other side of the school, Sylvia sat on a shaded bench in the garden behind the art wing. A breeze played with the edge of her notebook, where she scribbled down lyrics between classes.
Across from her, Lily, her one and only friend so far, munched on a granola bar and scrolled through school updates.
“You’re on the radar now,” lily said without looking up.
Sylvia sighed. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly. And that bothers people here.” lily glanced up, voice softer. “Especially Samara. You breathing too loud is probably considered an act of war.”
Sylvia smiled faintly.
“She’s scared of you,” Lily said.
“She hates me,” Sylvia corrected.
Lily shrugged. “Same thing, really.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Lily added, “By the way i heard you made Kingsley Brocks talk.”
Sylvia’s pencil paused. “So?”
Lily grinned. “That’s like a miracle. He doesn’t even talk to the principal.”
Sylvia stared off at the trees.
She didn’t want his attention. Didn’t need it.
But a strange chord had been struck in her chest ever since that moment.
Not attraction.
Not yet.
Just… curiosity.
And curiosity was always the first step into dangerous places.
In the VIP girls’ lounge—soft couches, gold-trimmed mirrors, and the faint scent of vanilla—Samara sat cross-legged like a queen on a throne, her manicured nails tapping rhythmically against her iced coffee cup.
Across from her, her two loyal shadows—Tiffany and Lisa —flanked her like bodyguards in lip gloss and eyeliner.
“A masquerade gala wow,” Lisa said with a dreamy sigh. “Mysterious. Romantic.”
“Dangerous,” Samara added coolly. “Which is perfect.”
Tiffany leaned in. “I already ordered a feathered silver mask. What about you?”
“I’m not worried about the mask,” Samara said, voice calm but laced with something sharp. “I’m thinking about what I’m going to do with it.”
Tiffany raised a brow. “You’ve got that face again. The ‘someone’s about to regret something’ face.”
Samara smiled, slow and venomous. “They will. She will.”
They didn’t have to ask who.
Ever since Sylvia had returned—older, prettier, quieter—she’d been drawing attention Tiffany couldn’t stand.
“The new girls thinks she can just walk back into our school, act like she’s innocent, act like she’s better than us?” Samara voice dropped. “I’m going to remind her who’s in control here.”
Tiffany leaned closer. “What are you planning?”
I’m not planning anything yet,Samara replied.
How about making her shine at the masquerade,” Tiffany said with a false sweetness. “Then I’m going to rip her mask off in front of everyone.”
Lisa blinked. “You mean your step sis…?”
Brielle nodded slowly. I hate her with every soul in me and I will “Expose her, Humiliate her and remind every single person here that she’s nothing but a charity case in designer shoes.”
She stood up, smoothing her skirt.
“And the best part?” she added with a dark gleam in her eyes. “She won’t even see it coming.”
There was a knock at the lounge door.
All three girls turned.
A folded note slid under it, sealed in matte black paper.
Samara frowned. Crossed the room. Picked it up.
Inside, a single typed message:
“ Samara be careful, Masks hide more than faces.”
No name. No signature.
Just a shiver that crawled down her spine.
Samara crushed the note in her hand—but her smile had faded.
T.B.C
