No one could believe it, when he started dating you, of all people. Vladimir Makarov, the school’s prized rugby player, popular, rich, heir to an incredibly vast family fortune—and you. Plain, nerdy, bookish little you. You were pretty enough, sure, but nothing like the gorgeous blondes he’s dated in the past. Some just laughed at your relationship, some felt sorry for you—he must be making fun of you, of course—but others seemed to take a personal problem with you.

Those others would be.. well, most of the other girls in your school, particularly the cheerleaders, who’ve been waiting their entire high school lives for a shot at a relationship with him. How could he have picked you over them? How could your relationship have lasted this long? And the worst part is, they aren’t so sure he’s just leading you on for fun anymore. He seems like he might actually love you. They can’t have that.

You’re standing in the bleachers at tonight’s game, cuddled up in his jersey, all ready to support him. These things aren’t really your scene, but you have to be there to support your boyfriend, no matter how much you’d rather be in bed with a book, or studying for your upcoming exams. He’s shooting flirty glances at you from where he’s warming up on the field, and you give him a little wave in return, until your attention is averted to the harsh tap on your shoulder. You turn to see three very beautiful girls, with mocking expressions on their faces. You know this game all too well.