Idol Star School: A Dark Bully Romance (Idol High School Book 1)

by Nara Noelle

  Though I wasn’t in the best mood, I knew better than to get pissed off at Juno, especially since we could start being filmed any minute now.

  “What do you think the STAR boys are going to be wearing? Sequined tuxedos and silk capes?” I said.

  Juno didn’t respond. As soon as he saw a couple of beta students standing around, he darted off to them without so much as excusing himself. Since we weren’t proper friends, I wasn’t deeply hurt by it or anything. I must admit though, his behavior did get on my nerves. While he ordinarily avoided being seen with me, the minute we were back in our room, he’d attempt to make small talk and inquire about my background. Though I made it clear that I was a private person who was reluctant to disclose details, he just didn’t get the fucking hint.

  There was one long table in the center of the pavilion, where we each had an assigned seat labeled with dinky little place cards that belonged at a wedding.

  “Welcome to our first banquet for Idol High School,” Sammy said once everybody sat down.

  While the other students cheered, I yanked my place card off the wire cardholder.

  Sammy went on. “Unfortunately, for half of you students, this will be your last banquet. Not only that, but tonight will be your last night on the island. I hope everyone’s sitting in their designated seat with the correct place card in front of them, because there’s an important message for each of you inside your card.”

  I looked down at my card and opened it up. The number three was printed inside. What the hell was going on? Had I been rated a three out of ten—or worse, a hundred?

  The boys sitting beside me, most of whom were fellow epsilon students, were talking among themselves as they passed their cards around.

  “If the number printed inside your place card is above twenty-five, please stand up,” Sammy ordered.

  The students sitting around me got up. Crap. So whatever my score was supposed to represent had not been marked out of ten.

  “First of all, I would like to congratulate those of you who are standing in front of me for making it this far on the show,” Sammy said.

  The students who were on their feet clapped eagerly, while the rest of the boys gawked at them with envious eyes. I guess it was time for me to pack my bags and leave Idol House. Of course, only after taking one last snoop around the place.

  Sammy continued. “Believe me, I know how hard you’ve worked, and I hope you were able to grow from your stay on the island. It was a pleasure getting to know you all. I learned a whole lot from being your show host, teacher, mentor, and friend.”

  Two contestants sitting near me shot each other confused looks.

  “The number printed on your card indicates your popularity rank based on the first round of viewer votes.” Sammy flipped back his curly hair. Though he didn’t seem to put much thought into this move, I knew it was the type of thing that would make SKYs swoon. “For example, if it says five, then you received the fifth greatest number of votes. Congratulations, because you’ll be staying on the island and have a bright future ahead of you. Sadly, this means that those of you standing up didn’t make it into the top twenty-five. You guys will be going on a plane back to Duvil tomorrow.”

  “Au revoir!” Mas jeered.

  “Dude, you were voted twenty-fifth! I wouldn’t be getting my hopes up if I were you,” the student standing next to him snapped.

  “Why don’t you worry about yourself first, buddy? At least I still have hope,” Mas retorted.

  Once I put my place card down on the empty place in front of me and pinched myself under the table, I took a deep breath. Okay. This really was happening. I hadn’t just passed the first round of viewer votes; I’d gotten freaking third place.

  “Are we being pranked?” the boy standing to my left shouted, shooting me an angry look. “I know I’m supposed to be a lowly epsilon student, but here me out. How does it make any sense that Hamin gets to stay here while every other epsilon has been kicked out of the show?” He pointed at me. “Seriously? This loser? Did people give him sympathy votes for mixing up the name of the track and getting his shoe stuck to the stage? Pfft. Why don’t we give him a gold medal while we’re at it?”

  When Mas got up from his seat and cackled with laughter, his friends followed suit.

  “So what’s your rank then, Hamin?” Mas sneered, coming toward me.

  “Yeah. Tell us your rank, Yo-yo,” Rich chimed in.

  “I’d love to share the details, but why doesn’t everybody sit down first? I wouldn’t want you poor, poor boys to pass out from jealousy,” I said, putting on a gratingly self-assured smirk, even though I couldn’t wrap my head around the situation either.

  When Mas was a mere two feet away from me, he leaped toward the table, reaching out to grab my place card.

  “Hey!” I yelled before snatching it off him and tearing it into pieces. While I knew the results were bound to come out at one point or another, I figured it was best not to disclose how astonishingly well I’d done in the first round of votes, seeing as I was surrounded by a crowd of aggravated students.

  “Overreaction much, Yo-yo?”

  I turned around. Terry was smiling at me—had I not known any better, I would’ve mistaken it for friendliness. He wore his white dress shirt with three of the buttons undone. As he came closer, I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “The ranks for the top twenty-five students are going to appear on the beam projector now,” he added, walking over to Sammy.

  “That’s right,” Sammy announced.

  After the beam projector turned on, a grid appeared behind Sammy. There were five rows with five names listed in each one. Sure enough, my name was in the first row next to my rank. While the people around me broke into loud chatter, some of them mentioning my name, I skimmed through the entire list. Other than me, all the other students in the top five were from the alpha class. Juno had come in at sixteenth place. Unsurprisingly, the majority of remaining students were members of the alpha and beta class—whether this was because they were simply more talented and charming idol trainees or because they received more airtime, I wasn’t entirely sure.

  Slap.

  My train of thought was interrupted by a mob of angry students who hadn’t made it to the top twenty-five.

  “You asshole!”

  “Who the hell did you pay to get your votes?”

  “More like, who did he fuck?”

  “Get your hands off me,” I growled, shaking away their clawing hands all over my arms and back. However, I simply wasn’t strong enough to fight them off. I screeched as somebody pinched my arm and gave me a Chinese burn. Who the heck said pinching was for girls? These boys had no qualms about doing whatever they could.

  “Cut, cut, cut! This can’t go on the show. We’ve got to break off this fight,” PD Oakland croaked, rushing toward me.

  My head jerked from one direction to another as the mob shoved me. I briefly exchanged glances with RJ, who was slumped in a chair, his cheeks flushed, and a look of satisfaction on his face. With a group of resentful rejected contestants on my back, he should’ve been the least of my concerns. However, the truth was, his punishments and digs at me in our classes hurt me far more than this aggressive mob. At least these students had a reason to be mad at me—they believed I was getting in the way of their dreams. Why the hell did RJ hate me so viciously though?

  “I’m third!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. Though it was a childish move, I had to make sure my voice would be loud enough for RJ to hear.

  “What did you say?” someone said.

  “I can’t believe I got twenty-sixth place because of this motherfucker. This is all your fault, Hamin,” another contestant chimed in.

  One by one, the students that had been attacking me were pulled away by security guards and the television crew. Though I wish I could say these efforts made me safe again, nobody stopped a fist from swinging at my face.

  “Stop!” I yelped, turning my head a secon
d too late.

  Chapter 20

  Honey

  I survived the blow. Is that a melodramatic way to put it? I’d been hit in the face plenty of times while growing up at South Devil’s, after all. Thankfully, the incident at the banquet didn’t even leave a mark on my face. Had I been punched with a ring-covered hand, I’d probably have been sent back to Duvil to get stitches on my whole face. Though I was asked if I wanted to spend the night in the infirmary, I declined.

  Two days later, I woke up in the middle of the night to a warm gush between my legs. No. I hadn’t pissed myself. From the moment I opened my eyes, I knew I must’ve gotten my period.

  After I stripped off my stained bedsheets and shoved them under my bed, I darted into the bathroom and locked the door, cursing under my breath. Shit. I wasn’t prepared for this. As ridiculously absentminded as this might sound, I’d forgotten to pack tampons.

  To be completely honest, I hadn’t even been keeping up with my menstrual cycle since I discovered I’d made it through the audition and would be coming on Idol High School disguised as a boy. No, it wasn’t as if I’d forgotten about my real identity. There was no way that could happen, seeing as I put extra care into hiding my figure every day. Yet my period—one of the biggest nuisances of being a woman—had somehow slipped out of my thoughts.

  Once I used toilet paper as a makeshift pad, I paced around the bathroom, wondering where to go.

  First, I went to the convenience store closest to the east wing with a disposable mask on my face and a hood pulled over my head. Since I knew it would be closed, I’d have to sneak in and take what I needed. I unpicked the lock using a straightened bobby pin I kept under the insole of my shoe. However, after I rolled up the shutters and walked around the aisles, I realized there were no feminine hygiene products. I suppose whoever stocked the shop saw no need for it, considering the fact that there were no female students.

  What was I meant to do for the next few days? Pretend that I had a stomach bug and was bedbound as a result? If only I were one of those contestants who could afford to miss out on several days of classes or whatever else we had coming up—nothing had been announced yet.

  I clicked my fingers as a thought came to mind. While I was the only female student, I wasn’t the only female resident in Idol House. I dropped by my room to grab the master key card, then went to the west wing. I knew that I’d be in serious trouble if I got caught sneaking into someone’s bedroom, but what else could I do? Go to the infirmary and ask for a diaper?

  When I entered the first floor of the west wing, I felt another leaking sensation and instinctively hurried into the women’s bathroom. Hallelujah! There was a vending machine for feminine hygiene products right in front of my eyes. I walked over to it with my thighs pressed together in fear of getting blood all over the floor. Of course, I had no spare change on me. At this point though, nothing was going to stop me from getting my tampons. After taking a quick glance at the door to check that nobody was coming in, I took off my left shoe and used it to hit the machine.

  “Come on, come on,” I whispered to myself as I shook the machine violently. If this didn’t work, I was going to have to smash the glass. I slid my finger into the coin slot without expecting much. However, I was pleasantly surprised. As I pulled out two fifty-cent coins, my shoulders eased. Fate must’ve taken pity on my plight.

  I put the coins back into the machine and pressed the button for the tampons. Then I slammed my shoe against the machine, over and over, until a bunch of tampons fell out at once. After I shoved them into my pockets—filling them up to the brim—I ran into a bathroom stall.

  When I sorted out the bloody mess in my pants, I put my hand on the door lock, only to drop it back down upon hearing footsteps. Shit. Somebody had just joined me in the bathroom.

  I sat absolutely still, breathing as softly as possible, even though my arms were shaking.

  “Should we go in here?” a woman purred.

  We? I muffled my gasp with the crook of my arm. What had I gotten myself caught up in?

  “Well, you’re not going to keep me hanging, are you?” a man replied. His voice was eerily familiar.

  I heard a door swing open. When I peeped through a crack in the partition, I saw two bodies—one brawny and the other thin—pressed together as they stumbled into the bathroom stall next to mine. Once the door locked and the man pressed the woman against it, I snuck a glance at their faces.

  Oh. My. God. RJ? When I leaned toward the small gap to get a closer look, she cupped his cheek with her hand, masking my view. But his gruff voice and large frame were unmistakable signs that it really was him—my teacher and tormentor.

  It took me longer to figure out who the woman was. With paper-white skin and smudged dark lips, she definitely had a distinctive style. I watched him push down the neckline of her sleeveless black blouse, exposing her breasts, as I tried to put a name to her face. When he pinched her nipple and began sucking on it though, I turned my head away. Okay. That just increased the chance of them going all the way in here by twofold.

  “Fuck. That feels good,” the woman moaned.

  “Oh, yeah? You know what else feels good?” RJ chuckled arrogantly before he pulled his pants and underwear down.

  “God, you’re huge,” she muttered. And she wasn’t saying it to fuel his ego either—he was insanely hung.

  RJ smirked as he bunched up her skirt and pushed her thong aside. While he slammed his mouth against hers, he positioned his huge member between her legs.

  A minute later, she pulled away. “So are you into anything dirty?”

  “Dirty?” he repeated.

  “Do you like it rough?” she murmured, stroking his cock.

  “How rough are we talking?” he said.

  “Rough enough to let out all of that testosterone in you. Come on, RJ. Show me what you’ve got. I bet you’re the biggest guy on the island.” She took a slow gulp. “Why don’t I give you a starting point? I want nothing more than to have your big hands wrapped around my neck. In fact, I’m dying to make it happen. That is, unless you’re a beast on the outside and a prim and proper weakling on the inside.”

  “You’re dying for me to choke you? Be careful what you wish for. I assure you I’m not a weakling. The problem is, you’re not going to last long with hands like mine wrapped tight around your neck.”

  “I don’t know, sweetie.” She tutted as she shook her head. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re all talk and no action? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I bet you could never even slap a girl, even if she asked you to. When it comes down to how you like it in the bedroom, I bet you’re just a goody-good pop star.”

  Had I not been hiding while I eavesdropped on their conversation, I would’ve knocked on the partition and pointed out how he had no qualms with using violence on his student—me. Alright. So he didn’t know I was a girl, but still.

  “Slap me!” she added.

  “Don’t you dare order me around,” he growled, raising his hand.

  When his hand landed on her cheek, a look of alarm took over her face.

  “Fuck yeah,” she quavered.

  RJ raised his eyebrows, seeing right through her attempt to be sexy. To be honest, I couldn’t wrap my head around this situation. I could tell there was no romance between them—this was nothing but a hook-up. However, the words coming out of her mouth seemed strangely rehearsed.

  “I love it when you slap my face hard like that. You know what? I want you to keep hitting me as hard as you can while you shove your cock inside me,” she hissed.

  He laughed. “You really think I slapped you hard just then?”

  Ladies and gentlemen, that was RJ for you. What a charmer, huh? Frankly, I wasn’t surprised in the least to see that he was also an asshole to the people he hooked up with. Or maybe it was because the woman worked in Idol House and wasn’t a model or whoever else was his usual type. He seemed to be the type of guy who looked down on anybody with an ordinary job. I won
dered how he’d react if he somehow found out I used to work night shifts at the reception desk of a tumbledown housing facility.

  Suddenly, I remembered where I’d seen the woman from and gasped. She did the laundry service. Her name was Mandy.

  When RJ turned his face in my direction, my heart dropped as I realized what a stupid mistake I’d made. For a moment, he scowled like he was staring back at me. Swarmed with dread, I expected shit to go down there and then. Perhaps he’d kick down the partition and dunk my head into the toilet bowl. If anybody was strong enough to do that within seconds, it was him.

  As Mandy whimpered, I don’t know what took over me. I unlocked the door and darted out of the bathroom as if I were nearing the finish line in a marathon.

  “What was that?” she cried out.

  I never got the chance to hear RJ’s response.

  When I got back to my room, I released a sigh of relief as I saw Juno sprawled across his bed, snoring. Never in a million years did I expect to sit two feet away from RJ while he got hot and bothered with one of the employees here. It had definitely been a crazy couple of hours—one that I was eager to forget about, now that I had enough tampons to get through the next few days.

  I grabbed a pair of boxers and a brown belly bag from my chest of drawers, then took them into the bathroom with me. Once I closed the door, I emptied my pockets until all that remained was my voice recorder in one pocket and my two room cards in the other. I proceeded to fill the belly bag with the tampons and boxers. Knowing my classmates, I assumed somebody was bound to point out I looked hideous with an ugly bag around my waist. What was the alternative though? Going around with bulky pockets like I had a bag of marshmallows in each one?

  When I leaned against the bathroom door to catch my breath, my cramps started. I might not have been beaten up by RJ earlier, but this was basically the same thing. So I curled up on the floor and prayed the other students and I would be getting another day off today. The thought of having to learn a new dance routine made me want to bawl my eyes out. At this point, it was practically a death sentence.