Braeden's POV

Braeden Pablo Gian Alvimoguere Satillo. That's me.

It's a mouthful of a name, but it's still mine nonetheless so I can't complain.

A little bit insane for me to take over this story with my POV? Maybe. But like everyone else here at Cartier Valley (including that drip Wendell) has a story to tell. And mine is a doozy.

You see, I was born a very pampered and high-maintenance kid from the upper-class of the Sea-Tac area. And coming from a mother whose family was as shit-poot as their heritage in Honduras and a father whose own ancestors who were no prize (farmers who owned a brothel back in Ireland), you can say that my folks and I did all that we could to earn what's rightfully ours.

Well, it was mainly my parents and my older siblings who did the heavy lifting while I was the baby and I didn't need to lift my finger.

Daddy Dearest always said that I was too... unsettled in the head to be a true part of the family, so I was mainly left to my own devices. And that was a poor choice on his account since I was quite a party boy who liked to pop pills (like a religious fanatic who was dedicated to God, I was dedicated to Vicodin, Oxycontin, and Prozac), smoke a lot of joints (like a Jamaican dropout), and also ditched classes in favor of gambling everything away.

But that stuff was forgivable, thanks to Mommy's lawyers and PR image consultants who could easily write checks to cover my flaws.

What WAS unforgivable was when I committed sexual deviances that were outside my family's Catholic beliefs- mainly of the homosexual kind. And what's even worse, I was slated to marry a good Catholic girl named Alison Waltrip that my older brother insisted would get me back on track and still let me do whatever I wanted. She, according to Josh the Twat-Waffle (my pet nickname for him), was (and I quote you ad verbatim) "a good and upstanding woman who prayed for her family, a virgin, a good cook, mother-material with her experiences with taking care of her baby sisters, and a devout woman of the cloth (like Grammy would proudly say) who would be there for me and lead me back to the faith."

And she was a stunning beauty- long and flowing brunette hair; kind, brown eyes, lips that were plumped, and devoid of any makeup as she excelled in true beauty. All of my friends back at Denton Prep wanted me to bang her and be right for her.

I, on the other hand, had eyes for her twin brother- the epitome of masculinity right down to his endowed.... you already know the rest. And he knew that I wanted him as much as he wanted me, despite our family's protest alongside those of my pastor and family therapist. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other when we were alone and we were going at it like rabbits in heat. And even when it was announced that I would be engaged to Alison the Bore, we still went down on each other when I wasn't trapped with schoolwork, catechism lessons at the after-school Catholic program, or wedding planning.

And then came the moment when the shit officially hit the fan. The rehearsal dinner of the night before the end of my junior year was when I was supposed to finally break ties with Alison's twin Alvin. Dad insisted that it was for the best that I started being more serious and start to make a clean sweep of my toxic sins- including my homosexuality. "Alison's going to be the one woman in your life to make sure that you bring honor to the Satillo and Waltrip family names," he had explained to me en route to the wedding rehearsal at St. Joseph Cathedral in downtown Tacoma. "She'll be joining us in making sure that you go from a reckless disaster to the son that will follow in my footsteps and join the others in running Satillo Enterprises. And I know that you want to have a little more fun, Braeden. But you owe us this to finally straighten up and fly right. You'll thank us later."

Like hell I would, bitch. I wisely kept my mouth shut and let him continue to sing of Alison's praises for what she could offer me as a housewife and future mother, but Alvin and I already had a plan in the making- jilt the wedding rehearsal and the dinner and make a clean break of our own to become party boys.

Funny how everything can turn from zero to chaotic when the virginal bride-to-be caught me, Alvin, and her male best friend in a threesome (foursome, if you could count a teenage pageboy) in the janitor's closet. She threatened to tell if I didn't back off from Alvin and sought repentance. "I'll ruin you," she seethed. "I'll make sure that you're the black sheep if you don't repent of your sins."

I just smiled, pulled up my underwear and pants, walked up to her... and calmly spat on her face.

Right in front of everyone. Including her newly-arrived father and my father.

Alvin immediately took me by the hand and we headed for his waiting Audi R8. We said a farewell with a silent middle finger and sped off with intentions of getting buzzed and trashed with alcohol and cocaine.

That is until Alvin's Audi R8 got met with a giant oak tree in a quiet neighborhood after dodging scared little kids and their equally-spooked Black-American mother.

Five weeks and one coma later, I had lost my lover to the dead; the wedding and merger were cut off, and I was being sent off to various military schools before being settled at Cartier Valley. And that was when I met Logan Michaels and his uncle Dr. Lucas St. Pierre, the dean of the school. And while I was bewitched by the caramel-skinned gods incarnate, they didn't trust or like me one bit. And that made me mad as hell because I was irresistible and no one dared to say no to me.

They made sure that I was constantly put away in isolation every time that I saw a fresh-faced twink wannabe try to make the moves and became my victim to attacks and mental threats. And with all of the school knowing of my misdeeds, no one (other than my faithful followers and lackeys) would dare be seen with me or even get close to me.

I'm not that bad of a guy. I'm just a little bit unstable when it comes to hot guys and lots of raw and unfiltered sex.

And then comes Mr. Wendell "Hardass" Harding from Seattle. That kid alone had enough of his family treating him like shit after he was bullied for being smart and being himself. And all because of some stupid test involving marshmallows.

I will give his father one thing, though: the kid should've seen it coming. Delaying gratification only makes you into a bigger fool than you already are before. But I guess that Wendell took it way worse when he's been pushed to the limits, hence him venting his rage at McHell High after his dumbass father dissed Queen Bey (a big no-no) and RuPaul's Drag Race (long live Mama Ru!).

I had expected him to come here and at least had the balls to be a real bitch. But instead, he turned out to be like everyone else- just tired of everything and wanting to find a fresh start.

I can't blame him for that.

But what's unacceptable was for him to be my Logan's roommate and (more than likely) his new lover. What the fuck does Michaels see in this kid, anyhow? I get that his uncle and every therapist and teacher suggested the pairing since I know that Logan's life pre-Cartier Valley was like Harding's and that they would need each other when things get really bad. But I won't allow Logan to be seduced by some willow-thin geek who ought to be boiled and oiled for just being Logan's roommate in the first place.

And as I sit here in study hall with an orderly watching my every move, I was thinking of many ways to finally get rid of Wendell Harding for good. I know that it won't be easy since all eyes would be on both of us- his for safety and psychological reasons and mine for the imminent threat of jail time. But it doesn't mean that I can try to get him out of the picture. And this week is giving me some time to think because Harding's in a health-related isolation unit after a nasty meltdown. All the more reason to seduce Logan into my way of thinking and my bed- hopefully, the last part would make it even easier to claim him.

Speaking of which, here came Logan carrying a file of some sorts as he breezed by everyone else with smiles and warm looks. "Hi," I said, turning on the charm. "What brings you over to"

"Not interested," he said to me coldly, his smile vanishing into a frown when I approached him. "And stay away from Wendell beginning tomorrow. He is mine."

The male orderly led me back to my desk, pointing to my books. Damn it all to hell. But at least he and I talked. That was a good thing.  Don't worry, Logan baby. Once I dispose of Wendell Harding for good, you and I will be wearing matching tuxedoes at our wedding in Belize.

Well, boys and girls, now you know Braden's story and how he's not too fancy about Wendell and Logan being together. And unfortunately for our MC, Satillo is the villain in the storyline as he will be causing a lot of trouble.

Coming up next, we'll hear from Wendell once again as he talks about his breakdown and how he felt after the withdrawal. And I must warn you that there will be trigger warnings that include mental breakdowns, anxiety, and hints of drug abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Dedication: LOLOthaNinja.

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