Love Beneath The Elite

The alarm’s sharp ring cut through the quiet room.

Mayzie groaned and stretched, forcing her eyes to open. She sat up slowly,  letting the noise continue for a moment longer than it should have. Her bed was covered in dirty clothes she hadn't had the energy to clear them last night, so she had just shoved them into messy piles. Her blanket was missing again, probably buried under the mountain of shirts she somehow owned.

She blinked, looking around her small studio.

The "kitchen" was just a sink, two small counters, and a single burner by the door. Her bed was only four feet from the entrance, and the bathroom was so small that it felt like it was part of the main room. The toilet ran constantly — a sound she had eventually learned to sleep through.

There was no space for a table or chairs. Instead, a messy towers of books were stacked across the floor. Somewhere behind them was a sliding glass door leading to a small patio. Living on the first floor meant she was lucky to have it, but she never used it. The books acted like curtains, stopping anyone from looking inside.

The alarm was still screaming.

A loud thud hit the wall.

"Get up, Mayzie," Alonso’s tired voice called. "Time to move."

"Sorry!" she shouted back, crawling across the bed. She dug through the pile clothes until she found the alarm clock, its red numbers glowing at her. She slammed the off button. "How did you even get under there?" she muttered.

"You probably threw it," Alonso said.

She turned to see him leaning in the doorway with a lazy grin on his face.

Alonso was tall, with curly dark hair and green eyes. The summer sun had tanned his skin, making his Spanish roots more obvious. He was cute, and she knew it, but they were just close friends — the kind of friends who had been through enough together to not need many words.

They were both sophomores, but they lived in a completely different worlds.

Alonso went to a community college and worked two jobs to help his family. He was always busy moving and always exhausted. Mayzie, however, went to Ravenfield University — an elite school for the children of the millionaires and billionaires. She was there on a "charity scholarship," a title the other students used to remind her she didn’t belong. At Ravenfield, money could buy anything; grades, silence, and second chances.

"Sorry again, Alonso," she said, standing up.

"It’s fine. I had to wake up anyway," he replied, leaning against the frame.

"How much sleep did you get?"

"Maybe four hours."

"Want coffee?" she asked, pointing to her small pot.

He shook his head. "Get ready for school. I’ll see you at dinner." He started to turn, then paused. "Where’s the cat?"

Mayzie looked around. "I haven't seen her in days, but the food is disappearing. She’s hiding somewhere."

Alonso laughed. "Well, nothing smells bad. She’s probably built a fort in your laundry."

After he left, Mayzie locked the door — something she had forgotten to do the last night.

She squeezed into the shower and then brushed her blonde hair. It looked just like her mother’s — thick and wavy — so she braided it to keep it neat. Jeans, a black shirt, her backpack, and a banana. Done.

Her commute was a long string of bus rides and followed by a two-mile walk. No buses went near the wealthy campus, and living closer wasn’t an option she could afford.

Money was always a problem.

She made just over minimum wage, and every time she saved a little, something new demanded it; textbooks, utility bills, and repairs. Whenever she complained, Alonso would just mess up her hair and say he was sharing his luck with her. She didn't know what she would do without him.

Every night, she cooked for him before he went to his second job. He worked harder than anyone she knew, yet he never seemed angry or bitter. Sometimes, she wondered if he was just very good at hiding it.

· · ─────── · 𓅪 · ─────── · ·

Ravenfield University was beautiful.

No building was more than twenty years old because the rich parents were always paying to fund for something new. Flowering bushes lined every walkway, and in the back garden, a quiet koi pond shimmered beneath the sun.

Students walked by in designer clothes, wearing gold and diamonds. Every morning, as expensive cars pulled up, it felt like a movie premiere. Mayzie sat against the fence and watched them arrive. Then, once she'd finished making herself feel small enough, she stood and went inside.

It was almost spring, but the air was still cold. She'd forgotten her sweater again, and by the time she felt the chill, it was too late to go back.

Jeans. Black shirt.

She was in the wrong place.

She looked like she had dressed for a normal day and accidentally walked into a fancy party. Ravenfield didn’t feel like a college; it felt like a stage designed for the wealthy. It was high school all over again, just with more luxury. Here, people weren’t known for who they were, but for where they came from. Family names were everything. And Mayzie? She was just the "charity student." An easy target. She’d hoped college would be different, but it was actually worse.

She sighed as she reached her locker.

It felt silly to have lockers in college, but the professors hated seeing too many books in class. There were no locks, only guards in the halls. Not that it mattered; someone always knew which locker was hers.

When she opened it, a fake snake fell to the floor. A small box of candy sat on the shelf. She stared at them for a moment, then picked them up and threw them in the trash.

"So childish," she muttered.

There was always something — some fake gift or reminder that they wanted here gone. There were supposed to be four scholarship students each year, but the older ones always left before finishing their first year. They were chased out. Now, it was just her and the new freshmen. Even they were already thinking about quitting.

Not her. She wasn’t going anywhere.

She had been bullied her whole life. Compared to having her books burned or being pushed into trash cans, this was amateur work. It was annoying, but she could handle it. She couldn't fight back against money and power, so she didn't. She just endured, and kept walking away.

"Snake and candy?" a voice asked.

Mayzie looked up and gave a small smile. "Hey, Bella."

Bellatrix was stunning, with long dark hair and an angelic face. Mayzie would never say it, but seeing her always made her feel better.

"Funny," Bellatrix teased. "No one leaves candy in my locker. Are you sure it's not a secret admirer?"

Mayzie snorted. "If you find stuff like that, throw it away. I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to poison us."

Bellatrix gave a little salute, trying to tease her. "Yes, captain."

"I’m serious, Bella. No one here is our friend. No guy here wants to date us." She paused, her voice going flat. "We’re just weeds in their rose garden."

Bellatrix’s smile faded. "I know, May. I just… still hope."

"The only way they’ll accept you is if they treat you like a pet," Mayzie said softly. "Trust me, you don't want that."

Bellatrix nodded. "I'll see you at work," she said, starting to walk past her.

Mayzie reached out and caught her arm. "Hey." She looked her in the eyes. "I'm your friend. You can always count on me."

Bellatrix smiled again, more gently this time. "I know."

As Mayzie gathered her things, Bellatrix stopped. "Don't you have a jacket?"

Mayzie shook her head. "Forgot it."

Without a word, Bellatrix took off her gray sweater and held it out.

"I can't take that... you'll be cold."

"I have another one," Bellatrix said, pushing it toward her. "Take it, or I'll make you wear it."

Mayzie laughed and took it. "Thanks."

"See you later!" Bellatrix called, already walking away.

Mayzie put the sweater on. It was still warm. For a moment, the cold didn't feel so bad. But as she closed her locker and turned toward her first class, she felt it again.

Eyes on her. Watching. Waiting. And this time, it didn't feel like a joke.