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"It's time to begin, isn't it?"

MY SPINE FELT as if it was going to shoot right out of my neck. No, I wasn't being tortured or anything, although sitting in this cramped airplane might just be the next closest thing to it. The stranger next to me was a middle-aged woman with bleached blonde hair and a penchant for snoring, extremely loudly.

I've never sat on a plane before, and prior to this flight I've always imagined it to be an eye-opening, extraordinary experience. I guess I only got the eye-opening part right, since the woman beside me made sure I was not going to get any sleep for the entire duration of the flight.

Despite my unfortunate seat partner, I was still more than excited for what awaited me when the plane finally lands. Just a week ago, I was just another student from my high school's Art Club, trying to juggle my studies with my social life, and just barely pulling through my end-of-year assessments. Then, I received a spontaneous offer from none other than the most prestigious boarding school in Europe for an all-expenses paid undergraduate scholarship.

Since I was nearing the end of my third year in high school, I hardly expected to get an offer to join a school half-way through. But who was I to complain? It was Meilleur Academy, for god's sake! It was the place that anyone who aspired for success hoped to end up. They had the best art programmes, facilities and professors. The only problem was the location and the price— it was halfway across the world, and the annual tuition fee was probably enough to buy my entire town.

Only the richest talents and geniuses could afford to go to the Academy, which made it all the more prestigious and elite. The last I checked, I was just a small-town girl trying to graduate high school while juggling a crappy part-time job to fund my art supplies. It was an absolute dream come true. When I first received the scholarship letter, I had to call the Administrative office at Meilleur four times to make sure that it wasn't a prank. It was that unbelievable.

I looked down at the navy blue booklet in my hands, the words Meilleur Academy embossed in gold cursive across the cover. I can't recall how many times I've read it already, but every time I flip through it, I still find myself breathless.

It was a good thing, I suppose, to learn more about the place I was going to spend the next year in. The Academy was founded by a wealthy Englishman named Albert Lorraine over a hundred years ago, and since then Meilleur has risen to become one of the best and most well-known elite schools in Western Europe. I still get goose bumps imagining how it'd be like to stand in front of the Academy, to admire its traditional brick architecture and feel the history of the Academy seep up from the cobblestones beneath me.

I let out yet another dreamy sigh, glancing out of the airplane window and at the clouds that surrounded the plane. If I just spent the next few hours dreaming about how amazing Meilleur would be like, maybe this flight won't be so damned after all.

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WHEN I FINALLY stumbled out the airplane and out of the Arrival hall, I was pleasantly surprised to find a member of the faculty waiting for me. We exchanged formalities and he checked my passport to make sure I wasn't some kind of imposter. I quickly learned that he wasn't one to speak very much and awkwardly followed him to the sleek black Bentley in the carpark. He helped to load what little luggage I brought along into the trunk and beckoned me to get into the back of the car. I gulped, feeling a little uncomfortable about how polite he was, and how he was treating me as if I was some kind of rich celebrity. I complied anyway, since I wasn't going to pass up sitting in a Bentley.

The ride to the Academy took almost two hours, which of course, was quite horrible. Besides the fact that I was going to be stuck in sitting position for hours again, I was also freezing. Since it's the winter season, I expected it to be cold, but not this cold. Shuddering in my seat, I pulled my thin coat closer to my body in hopes of keeping warm. By the time the car turned the corner and rolled past the giant iron gates and into the actual campus, I was just about ready to throw myself out of the door. When the car finally came to a stop at the front of the stone steps that led to the entrance of the building, I practically flew out of the car. I was just about to cry out in rejoice when an older woman cleared her throat, snapping me out of it. I blinked, staring at the grey-haired woman with the stern eyes. When it was clear to her that I had no idea who she was, she let out a sigh and wet her lips.

"Welcome to Meilleur Academy, Miss Knight," she croaked, her thin eyebrows raising just slightly. "I am Mrs. Humphrey, Head of the Administrative Office here in the Academy."

"Nice to meet you," I replied quickly, offering a hesitant smile. She said nothing more, but instead beckoned me to follow her. The man who brought me here followed behind me silently with my luggage in hand. Swallowing, I looked at my surroundings in awe. I was really here, in Meilleur! True to the pictures in the booklet that was mailed to me, the Academy looked like it belonged in the 18th century with its French Baroque-influenced architecture. I listened half-heartedly as Mrs. Humphrey gave a description about the Academy, but I knew she was really just reciting what was written in the booklet. I should know, since it's all I've been reading ever since receiving it in the mail. She mentioned a few of the more important school rules, and what was for dinner. Steak and baked potatoes, she said. The short tour took less than fifteen minutes and before I knew it, the three of us were standing in front of a wooden door with golden-embossed numerals above the peephole.

"This is your dorm room," Mrs. Humphrey said, retrieving a set of keys from her leather purse. She placed the key in the lock and turned, revealing a beautifully furnished room. I couldn't help but gasp when I saw the interior of the room, and my heart thumped with excitement. It hardly looked like a dormitory, it looked more like a hotel suite! At least the students here get their money's worth, I couldn't help but think to myself. Annual tuition fees were easily over five digits, including accommodation. No wonder the dorms were so nicely decorated.

"We have a curfew set on week days. You have to be in your dorm by nine," Mrs. Humphrey said sternly. "If any faculty staff catch you loitering outside your dorm after curfew, you will be punished accordingly."

"Understood," I said. I could care less about a curfew. Who wouldn't want to return to such a nice room?

"I'll let you settle in. Your uniforms are in the wardrobe," she said, before passing me a thick file. "This is your schedule, a colour-coordinated map and some other miscellaneous forms that you are required to fill in. Dinner will be held at the dining hall at seven. You are allowed to wear your own clothes after school hours as well, Miss Knight. If you come across any issues during your stay, feel free to phone the administrative office."

Without another word, Mrs. Humphrey and the man turned around and left, leaving me alone in my room. I left out a sigh, admiring the beautiful cream coloured walls, the leather sofas and most importantly, the large, four-poster king-sized bed. Diving head-first into the soft mattress, I let out a muffled but excited scream. I felt like I was a little kid at Disneyland! I couldn't suppress that large grin that stretched across my face as I got out of the bed and began to unpack my luggage. It didn't take long for me to get all my clothes out of my luggage and into my wardrobe, where three sets of steam-pressed uniforms hung. The Meilleur uniform consisted of a silky white collared blouse, a pleated beige skirt and a navy blue blazer with golden buttons. The whole outfit looked elegant and expensive, which I suppose was the entire theme of the Academy itself. A part of me worried about whether or not I would fit in here, although the more rational part of me reminded me that I was here to study and hone my craft, not have fun. Although, having some fun won't be an entirely bad thing, right?

A low rumble of bells shook me out of my thoughts, notifying students on campus that it was time for dinner. In the distance, I could make out a tall tower with a large bell on the top of it, and the face of a clock carved onto the side of it. It was the infamous Clock Tower, one of the only original buildings left in the Academy. It was pretty amazing that the tower could withstand the test of time and remain standing even after a hundred years. I wondered and hoped for a second that one day my artwork would do the same.

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IT TOOK LONGER than I anticipated to find the dining hall. Not because I got lost, but because the campus itself was so large that it took such a long time to walk to the recreational building where the dining hall was situated.

Pushing the heavy cherry-wood door open, I was taken aback by how lively the dining hall was. Students of all different races walked past me, carrying trays of delicious food in their hands. It was still a bit of shock to me, seeing so many people. Since I arrived in the middle of the day, most of the students were in their classrooms having lessons, so I didn't get to see many people.

Once I stepped inside, almost all eyes turned to me, regarding me silently in a seriously creepy way. I wasn't used to getting a lot of attention for being myself, so I assumed that it was because I was a new student. In the scholarship letter, they stated that there were only two hundred and fifty students in my cohort, which is frankly a very small number. If I were them, I'd notice a new person straight away.

Shrugging it off, I went to join the short queue to get my food. Thankfully, my scholarship covered living expenses as well, and I was handed a nifty black card that had an entire semester's worth of allowance in it. Two thousand and fifty dollars sounded like a lot at first, but looking at the menu for what was going to be served as dinner today, I just about choked. The steak that Mrs. Humphrey mentioned before was grass-fed beef flown in from New Zealand, and the baked potatoes were organic and seasoned with truffle oil.

Suddenly, staying at Meilleur sounded much, much better. Not that it wasn't already such a dream. It felt more like I was on vacation rather than going to school, to be honest. It didn't take long before I was next in line, and I was quickly handed my food. Saliva automatically started forming inside of my mouth the moment my nose has a whiff of that grilled beef and I swear I was this close to drooling all over myself. I scanned the hall for an empty seat and my eyes lit up when I spotted a completely empty eight-seater table in the middle of the hall.

Happily skipping to the empty table, I heard audible gasps when I finally seated my derriere on one of the chairs. I looked up, only to see even more students staring at me now, some even shaking their heads in what I can only describe as pity.

What was wrong? Is this table just a decorative piece or something? That sounded pretty ridiculous and flashy, but it was Meilleur after all, and I wouldn't be surprised if I was right. Either way, I was a starving girl and there was a piece of steak right in front of me, and nothing was going to stop me from devouring the meat as if it was the last thing I was ever going to eat.

I picked up my fork and knife and got ready to cut a slice for myself when a shadow fell over me. I felt a presence behind me, one that was not all that friendly. I gulped, wondering if it was a ghost. Maybe that's why no one sat here! But hey, you know what they say, if you pretend it's not there, it'll leave you alone.

Slowly, my knife inched toward the steak again, but I was startled when a sharp cough sounded directly behind me.

"Oh, Jesus!" I yelped, turning around with a start.

"What the hell?" I heard someone say, and I looked up to see that the 'ghost' was actually another student, albeit one that looked extremely unhappy. Although, I decided, he would be quite a handsome guy if he wasn't glaring at me as if I've scorned his mother. He had sharp, unique features, bright green eyes, two sterling silver rings protruding out of his left eyebrow and most importantly, a head full of stark white hair.

Standing next to him was a taller and meaner looking boy with honey blonde hair. How was it possible that he looked even more intimidating than White Hair even though all he was doing was just...standing there?

When the blonde-haired boy turned his head and stared at me straight on with his icy blue eyes, a shiver slid down my spine and I looked away quickly. He was as scary as he was handsome, and he was extremely handsome.

Behind them, there stood another two tall and unforgivingly attractive boys; one with dark chocolate brown hair who looked more like a movie star rather than a student, and a black-haired, bespectacled Asian boy who had his sharp nose tucked into a book. Who exactly are they?

"Put that knife away!" White Hair demanded, snapping me back to reality. I had the feeling that he wasn't the sunshine-y type of guy.

I blinked, looking at him and then at the knife in my hand that was pointed right at him in quite a menacing manner. Letting out an awkward, nervous laugh, I slowly lowered my silverware.

"Whoops?" I croaked, scratching the back of my hand and internally cursing myself.

"Who the hell is she?" he asked, to no one in particular.

"She's new," his Asian friend answered, his voice filled with boredom. He looked away, not a single expression crossing his bored face. "Obviously."

"Excuse me?" I interrupted with an awkward cough, only to get another glare shot my way by White Hair.

"Don't speak unless spoken to," he snapped, and I pursed my lips and put my hands up in mock surrender.

"Dude, I was just going to ask why you're just standing there," I explained.

"You're sitting on our table," White Hair seethed, narrowing his eyes. "Get lost."

"I was here first," I protested, eyebrows furrowing.

"Just leave," the blonde haired boy said, sighing heavily. "Save yourself the trouble of arguing with Asher."

So White Hair was named Asher. Quite fitting, I would add.

"Are you on my side or hers?" Asher snapped, frowning at his friend.

"Neither," he shrugged. Then, the blonde haired boy turned to me. "You do understand English, don't you? Asher told you to get lost."

Well, that's one way of being welcoming.

A smirk formed on Asher's lips after hearing what he said, and he condescendingly shooed me away with his hands.

"Shoo," Asher said, causing me to roll my eyes.

"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, grabbing my tray and getting up from my seat.

"What did you just call me?" Asher snapped, grabbing my arm to prevent me from walking away.

"Let go of me," I seethed, feeling annoyance burst inside of me. "I haven't eaten all day and I'm positively starving right now, so let me go before I clock you in the throat with all I've got!"

Asher looked like he was about to explode at me, but the blonde-haired boy shot him a single look that kept him from doing anything else.

"Asher, stop wasting time associating with people like that," he said, and without giving me a second look, he took a seat on one of the empty chairs at the table. I would've thanked the guy if he didn't sound so condescending when he said 'people like that'. Like what, exactly? Geez, do these rich people come equipped with wealth-radars so they can sniff out imposters or something?

Asher, who was still staring down at me with a hellish glare, narrowed his eyes for a moment before sitting down on the seat I was just in. I couldn't help but to glare at the back of his head, which didn't do anything, really, but at least it made me feel a little bit better.

I was just about to leave the dining hall and eat in my room instead when suddenly, I was intercepted by three gorgeous girls at the entrance of the hall. The girl in the middle had a golden tan, light blonde hair and elfish— features that would've made her look pretty if it wasn't for the nasty smirk on her face.

"A new girl. That explains it," she said, raising an eyebrow. The mocha-skinned girl on her right giggled, eyeing me down. "You know, you're lucky that the boys are in a good mood today."

"You call that being in a good mood?" I retorted, looking baffled. How miserable were the students here if being that cranky is considered a good thing? The girl narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, her glossy lips thinning into a straight line.

"Robin Clair, Asher Dane, Yuko Hideyoshi, Logan Marshall," she named, raising up four fingers as if she was speaking to a child. "Those are the boys you just met. They're the Academy's elite, the one percent— Royals. That table you sat on? The Centre Table, reserved only for people like them. Since you're new, I guess mistakes can't be avoided."

"It's a table," I deadpanned, giving her a look. Does she know how ridiculous this is? The other girl on her left, a petite Korean girl with wavy black hair and big doe eyes, scoffed aloud.

"We've got a scholarship student, Bianca," the Korean girl laughed, her words venomous. "These never end well."

"They're different, in the worst possible way," the girl in the middle, whose name I assumed was Bianca, sighed. "I don't understand why the school thinks it's a good idea to allow people like that to study with us."

"Hey," I snapped, narrowing my eyes. "I can hear you!"

Bianca gave me a pointed look, rolling her eyes.

"We know that. That's kind of the point," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Talk about welcoming," I muttered under my breath, eyeing the three girls. Clearing my throat, I raised my chin and met Bianca's gaze. "If there's nothing more, I'll be on my way."

"Not so fast," one of the girls said, blocking my way. "We're not done with you."

"Oh, for God's sake!" I spluttered, rubbing my forehead. These girls were giving me a headache from all this bullshit.

"No one gets away from sitting at the Centre Table, or talking back to Asher. Even if you're a newbie, rules are rules," Bianca sighed, her voice filled with false pity. The evil glint in her eye made it clear that she saw me as nothing more than entertainment.

"Enough with your bullshit," I said, narrowing my eyes. "All of you are clearly delusional if you think a social hierarchy exists."

"Welcome to the Madhouse then, sweetie," the mocha-skinned girl said, smirking. "Here, the three of us belong at the top of the food chain. And you? The very bottom."

"Am I supposed to feel sad, or something?" I asked, tilting my head and raising an eyebrow.

"No," Bianca said, taking a menacing step toward me. She had on a scarily calm smile, as if she wasn't threatening me but instead giving me a compliment. "The only thing you should be feeling is fear. I'll let you figure what that means on your own, and if you can't, well...you'll find out soon enough."

The three girls shot me one last, scathing stare, before strutting past me. I let out a loud sigh, shaking my head to myself. If the next year consisted of people like them, I wondered how I was going to survive.

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A/N: This is the end of the first rewritten chapter of The Lonely King! I hope all of you thoroughly enjoyed it. Stay tuned for more!

#QOTC (Question of the Chapter): Are you a first-time reader or a re-reader?

Song of the Chapter: It's Time by Imagine Dragons

- SHEVVIE