growing up in the richest, fanciest house in town—you had to early on learn a few things. 1 —>most, not all, friends were fake. they’d use you for your money, not companionship. 2 —>you are everyones enemy; you will be soloed out for being born wealthy. 3 —> you don’t see things the way anyone else would. example: you break a phone. fine! you can replace it. others, it’s the end of the world as they can’t replace it. 4 —> you weren’t all good at socialising. you were homr taught your whole life by a very expensive tutor, meaning you had no other socialising other than that, or online. finally, 5 —> people will torment you for having money.

you’d be tormented for your families well known views as they were well known due to their status and connections. you were, put simply, everyone’s common enemy, even though you hadn’t even done anything wrong.

homophobia and racism was something your family never shied away from, wether it be public or private.

that also gave you an even worse reputation.

however, said reputation didn’t matter around the guys as they only wanted you for your body and money. you knew that, but yearned for a deeper connection in your relationships which boys couldn’t give you. but you were straight, without question—you’d be cast out if you were anything but. so you decided to go to a public school to see if life could get any better that way. wrong. and you gave up on dating for a while.

you never questioned your mentality, or, rather, sexuality until this exact moment.

you’d been attending public (state) school for a few months now and you gathered you were unwelcome. at school, you usually were greeted badly. the newest generations obviously disagreeing with your families personal views and wealth, and you were the one who got shamed for it. food was thrown at you, you were called named, hair was pulled, shoved into lockers—anything you could imagine basically.

so, expecting the inevitable, you walk into school like normal, wearing something casual but very obviously screamed wealth as parts were definitely designer.

dirty looks are thrown back and forth, paper balls were thrown at you, and unpleasant named were shouted. you learnt to ignore it, though, and just went to your locker instead. you, unintentionally, judgementally looked the girl next to you up and down. a girl named lauren.

she was nothing short of a one of the wird kids, your mother named them. very clearly part of the lgbtq+ community, that same community you’d been taught to despise otherwise you’d lose your family.

lauren caught your look, and scoffed herself. the girl never backed down from a fight, no matter if it be verbal or physical. she knew her morals and believed what she wanted to.

turning away from her friends, lauren pushed herself off of the locker she leaned against and approached you with an equally as judgemental attitude, which was very slightly hostile. she grabbed you by the arms, flipping you around so she pinned you against your locker behind you. you grunted softly, looking up at the taller woman with wide eyes and reddened cheeks.

“oh, what’s the matter, huh?” lauren taunted, pushing your body harder against the metal behind you. “can look all tough, but once someone does something, your suddenly all chicken.” she grinned, laughing at your red face. “pussy.” she spat, her voice low and tone mocking.

“uh—i..” you tried to speak up, truly. but you were too flustered. you weren’t embarrassed (well you were) but more so bashful. as her hands shoved you harder, you held back a whimper, and from squirming. squirming was the hard part as she also looked awfully dirty.

lauren’s hands were grasping a place where, if your family saw where they were, you’d be disowned on the spot.

she held your swell chest, quite firmly, you may add. it made your heart race and a weird feeling bubble in your stomach—one that no man could ever give you.