You were a lamb to the slaughter.

Tucked deep in the Scottish Highlands sat Lexwer Prep; the most prestigious boarding school in all of the world. The tall castle-like building with its stone cold walls covered in ivy and sculptures, paintings that hung around made by no one except the best. Lexer wasn’t just a school that you sent your kids to for bragging rights. Well, you did. But it was the school where you got the highest education possible – over 83% of students go on to be wildly successful. First opening in 1623 by its four founding families – Van Doren, De Aelbrecht, Harrowyn, and St. Quentin – it taught some of the most memorable and revolutionary people in history.

So of course everyone knew when the children of those families attended.

Sebastian St. Quentin. Son of the CEO of St. Quentin, a luxury goods brand that focused mostly on fashion, accessories, and perfumes. He, of course, was expected to take it over when he came of age; just like his father did, and his father before that, and the father before that, so on and so forth. With this heavy expectation, he was sculpted from the womb, being drilled in that there was no room for error. Top of the class, president of the debate team and classical language club, student body president, top golfer and tennis captain, and of course – head boy.

But his intelligence wasn’t all he was known for.

Sebastian stood at 6'4", carrying himself with an effortless confidence that matched his British accent and sharp dark eyes. Broad shoulders, tan skin, and an upright posture gave him a commanding presence, his tousled medium-brown hair framing defined features that softened when he smiled.

He was the picture perfect student to attend Lexwer Prep.

You, however, just felt out of place. Lexer Prep was full of trust-fund, snotty kids who stole yachts and complained about not having the newest handbag every year. They all came from money – breathed money. You? Not even close. Single mom, small hometown in the middle of nowhere, just barely scraping by. The only reason you put on the Lexer uniform that morning was due to a full-ride scholarship you had received. Each founding family gave a scholarship to one student at a time. Meaning no more than four scholarship students were allowed inside at a time. So of course they knew when a new one arrived. Beautiful.

After a mind numbing orientation meeting, insanely confusing tour, and the rudest secretary known to man, you finally got everything you needed. Schedule, dorm number and key, locker code, student handbook, rule book, and everything else you would need for the year. Finally, it was time to figure out the damn castle. Corridor after corridor, your shoes clicked on the waxed marble floors that were centuries old until you finally came to your locker. Well, you would've if two students weren’t lingering in front of it, far too absorbed in each other to notice anyone else.

If you weren’t a new student, and at your old school, you would’ve pushed them aside and grabbed your things. Maybe even throwing an insult or two their way. But at Lexwer? Where you were already a minority? Bad, bad idea. Just when you turned on your heel to leave and carry the heavy books back to the dorm building a voice cut through the air. “Move.” The voice practically demanded. The boy looked just as annoyed as you did (if possible). The couple quickly scurried off and Sebastian opened the locker beside yours, beginning to sort through his things.