Seat on the table, target on the back
The morning air was crisp, carrying with it a subtle hum of excitement and nerves. Elara stood before the large mirror in her room, eyes tracing over the reflection of a girl who didn't quite feel like herself. Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, her cheeks flushed slightly from the early morning effort of getting ready. Her room, once a symbol of luxury and sophistication, now seemed foreign to her in this new world she was creating. The walls were adorned with faded posters of old models and photos of places she'd never visited, but that was all part of the disguise — part of who she was trying to be here.
Her bed, cluttered with textbooks and a couple of stray clothing items, looked unorganized in comparison to the meticulous order she was used to. It didn't feel like her space anymore — or rather, it didn't feel like the real her. She had thrown on an oversized sweatshirt, a pair of old, frayed jeans, and a beanie to complete the look — the ugly dork who didn't quite fit in anywhere but hoped to blend in.
She looked around one last time, then grabbed her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder with a deep breath.
She was ready, or at least, that's what she kept telling herself.
---
The school grounds loomed ahead as Elara walked through the iron gates of Lincoln High. It felt like she was entering a whole new world, one where her name meant nothing, where her face was just another among the thousands of other faces. No one here knew the real her. No one knew the model who graced magazine covers or the heir to the Blake empire.
Her first class was History, and as she made her way to the room, her eyes scanned the crowded hallway. Kids laughed and joked with their friends, their backpacks hanging lazily from their shoulders, the vibrant buzz of high school life surrounding her. She felt small, insignificant — a shadow walking among the living. It was exactly what she had wanted.
But something gnawed at her insides. What if people noticed? What if someone figured her out?
She pushed the thought aside as she opened the door to History class and stepped inside.
---
The first few hours of the day passed in a blur.
No one paid her any special attention, and Elara was grateful for that. She sat quietly in her seat, scribbling absentmindedly in her notebook as the teacher lectured on the history of ancient civilizations. She had never been particularly interested in the subject, but today, the words felt distant, irrelevant. She was just a girl trying to disappear into the crowd.
Then, during lunch, it happened.
Elara was standing in line, her tray of food in her hands, when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder.
She turned to find Nora — a girl with dark, curly hair, a broad smile, and an energy that could light up an entire room. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth.
"Hey, you're new, right? I haven't seen you around before," Nora said, her voice friendly but with an unmistakable edge of excitement.
Elara smiled, nodding. "Yeah, just transferred. Figured I'd give this place a shot."
"Well, welcome to Lincoln High! I'm Nora," she said, giving her a quick but firm handshake. "If you need someone to show you the ropes, I'm your girl."
Elara laughed softly. "Thanks, I might take you up on that."
As Nora led her to an empty table in the cafeteria, Elara's heart felt lighter. She hadn't expected anyone to approach her so soon, let alone someone as friendly as Nora. But at the same time, Elara's instincts reminded her to be cautious. She wasn't here to make friends — not real ones. She was here to observe, to live a life far from the glitz and glamor she was used to.
---
At that moment, a shadow fell over the table. Elara looked up to see Savannah Chase — tall, with long, dark hair and the kind of beauty that turned heads even in a crowded room. Her lips were painted a bold red, and her eyes glinted with a sharpness that made Elara's stomach tighten. Savannah was the queen of Lincoln High, a fact that was obvious to anyone who had even the slightest knowledge of the school hierarchy. She was the type of girl who had everything — beauty, wealth, influence. And she was staring down at Elara as though she were some kind of puzzle to be solved.
Nora, seemingly unbothered, smiled up at Savannah. "Hey, Savannah! This is Elara. She just transferred."
Savannah's gaze flickered over Elara with a mixture of curiosity and mild distaste. "Oh, I see. A new face," she said, her voice dripping with a smooth, practiced sweetness. "Well, welcome to the circus." Her eyes narrowed slightly, studying Elara as though weighing her worth.
Elara smiled awkwardly, feeling a chill creeping up her spine. "Thanks."
Savannah didn't say anything else before turning to leave, her heels clicking against the floor with a rhythm that seemed far too calculated. Elara watched her walk away, her presence lingering like a shadow.
"Don't mind her," Nora said, noticing the look on Elara's face. "Savannah's… well, she's complicated."
Elara nodded but didn't respond. Her thoughts were elsewhere — on the way Savannah had sized her up, the way she had looked at her like she was something to be handled. What was that about?
---
The rest of lunch passed uneventfully, but Elara couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. She glanced around the cafeteria, her eyes briefly meeting the gaze of a few students, none of whom seemed particularly interested in her. But the longer she sat there, the more she felt like an outsider — someone who didn't belong.
When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, Elara stood up quickly, eager to get to her next class. As she walked toward the exit, she noticed a text message on her phone. It was from an unknown number.
"I know who you are."
Elara froze in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. The message sent a chill down her spine, and for a moment, she wondered if she was imagining it. She glanced around nervously, as if expecting someone to appear out of nowhere and reveal themselves. But the hallway was crowded, filled with students heading to their next classes.
She pocketed her phone, trying to shake off the feeling of unease.
---
When Elara returned home that afternoon, she was greeted by the usual chaos. Her mom was pacing in the living room, speaking urgently on the phone, her face etched with concentration. Elara's father, as usual, was absent — off on some business trip or another, far away from the family.
Her sister, Savannah, was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone, the faintest smile playing on her lips. She looked up as Elara entered, her eyes softening.
"How was your first day?" Savannah asked, her voice gentle in a way that only she could manage.
Elara forced a smile, trying to push away the lingering unease from the day. "It was fine. Nothing too exciting. Just… normal."
Savannah didn't say anything, but her eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Normal, huh? You'll find that normal here is a little different."
---
That night, as Elara lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, she couldn't stop thinking about the text message. "I know who you are."
It was a warning. A threat. A reminder that her past — the life she had left behind — was far from gone. And now, someone here, in this normal world she had built for herself, knew the truth.
But who?
As she drifted into a restless sleep, she realized one thing: her two worlds were colliding in ways she hadn't anticipated. And she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her secret.