THE CONTRACT VICTIMS.

rt. The pavement was cracked and uneven, with weeds sprouting through the fissures, and the air was thick with the smell of exhaust fumes and cooking oil. Despite its

these sma

etches and colorful paintings, each one a testament to her artistic talent. The subjects of her artwork were predominantly a familiar beautiful blonde woman, depicted in various

books, and clothes. Her hair, a striking purplish color, sprawled across her pillow like a tangled halo, a stark contrast to the bl

re of frustration and despair. "Why bother?" she shouted at herself, her voice cracking with emotion. "What'

into her room, his face etched with concern. "Taylor, what's wrong? Are

t want to go to school, Dad. I don't want to do anything." Her voice w

troking her hair. "Hey, kiddo, I get it. Some days are tougher than others. But you know what they say, 'when life give

, there was always a glimmer of hope. Taylor's gaze flickered, a small smile playing on her lips.

His gaze lingered on the blonde beauty, a soft smile on his face. "You know, Taylor, your

a spark of interest igniting in her eyes.

need to believe in yourself." He paused, his eyes locked on hers. "And maybe, just maybe,

her lips. She nodded, a sense of determination igniting

lop Taylor in a sense of security. "That's my girl," he said, his voice filled with a sen

's support, she could conquer anything, even the darkest of days. And as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she saw not only her o

ddenly, a commotion erupted as a familiar figure walked into view. Alexander Williams, the young billionaire, stro

first to spot him. Their eyes widened with excitement, and they squealed with delight, their designer

. Their faces contorted in mocking disgust, and they burst into snickers. "Oh my god, look at her ha

jabs, but they only seemed to get worse. "And those clothes? She looks like s

e ducked into the restroom, the mirror reflecting back a image she couldn't bear to lo

nt her, its reflection a harsh reminder of her low self-esteem. She felt like she was dr

Taylor sat alone at a table, her purplish hair standing out like a beacon among the sea of student

eens of the school, had already spotted her. They sauntered over to her table, their designer han

dripping with disdain. "What's with the

g with shame. She tried to ignore the j

they came from a thrift store," Melissa

pilled her juice on Taylor's book and clothes. "Oh, look at th

stration. "Hey, that was on purpose!" s

er voice bossy and condescending. "And don't spi

uctantly got up and headed towards the juice counter, the gro

ght face, his eyes fixed on the spectacle. He stood leaning against a nearby pillar, his arms cro

ul, not deserving of the cruelty that was being inflicted upon her. He also knew that the gi

on in her eyes, and it only strengthened his resolve. He was a master strategist, always thinking several steps ahea

who were tormenting her didn't even notice him approaching, too caught up in their own cruel game. But Taylor saw him, and for a mom

could see the embarrassment and humiliation written across her face, and his heart went out to her. With

but Alexander knew it was the only way to shut down the taunts and teases of the mean

ey watched the scene unfold. They couldn't believe it - Taylor, the "freak" and

kled with surprise and delight, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks

and she nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. Together, they turned and w

ms around Taylor's waists. It was a moment that would go down in school history, a moment that would change th

e space. The sound of footsteps echoed through the empty hall, bouncing off the walls and ceiling, creating a sense of reverberation that seemed to amplify every sound. T

adorned with large portraits of former principals and distinguished alumni, their eyes seeming to watch over the space with a sens

allenge. Taylor held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest, as she watched the scene unfold before her. She had never see

ssed, her eyes fixed on Alexander with a mixture of curiosity and defiance. Alexander, his eyes pierc

eered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Rushing to the r

a kind and gentle soul, Molly. And she doesn't deserve th

es glinting with amusement. "And

sparkled with triumph. "Ah, I see," she purred, her vo

struck a chord deep within him. He ignored her, turning

Alexander," she called out, her voice dripping

uiet confidence, he walked away, leaving Molly standing alone in the grand hall, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and desire. Taylor, still hidden in the corner, watched as Alexander disappea

ace contorted in desperation. She couldn't bear the thought of being rejected, of being ignored. With a

ice husky and urgent. "Don't be a fool! Yo

ing up the distance. But Molly was relentless, her persistence fueled by her own desperatio

l who stood frozen in the corner, her eyes wide with wonder. Taylor's heart skipped a beat a

hem. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the walls, creating a sense of urgency, of desperation.

through the hall. "Yes, I love her, so what?" he yelled, his eyes blazing

a malevolent glow. "You'll regret this, Alexander," she spa

eir words hanging in the air like a challenge. Taylor's heart pounded in h

lone, the tension between them palpable. Alexander's chest heaved with exertion, his eyes still blazing

whispered, her voi

e smile. "You don't have to thank me, Taylor," he said, hi

with hers in a gentle grasp. Taylor's heart skipped a beat as she felt a

an girls, Carol, Melissa, and Zoey, would be walking in any moment, and he wanted to make a stateme

pale with disbelief. Alexander's eyes locked onto Taylor's, his gaze burning w

eels clicking on the marble floor. The other mean girls followed suit, thei

t the mean girls' egos, and it felt satisfying. He glanced at Taylor once more, his eyes so

rstand why Alexander had held her hand, why he had declared his love for her, only

ook like it." She stood there for a moment, her eyes fixed on the spot w