smock rings

Who would have imagined that Miss Perfect, aka the principal's daughter, aka class topper, aka prisha, aka me, would be standing rear of the school, holding a cigarette like a pro and blowing smoke rings? No one, right? Me neither. I never imagined myself smoking three months ago.

And yet, here I am, prisha, the girl who’s supposed to have it all together, indulging in this rebellious act behind the school walls. It’s ironic, really. Three months ago, I would have scoffed at the mere thought of smoking. But life has a funny way of unraveling, revealing the layers beneath the surface. Today, as the smoke curls around me, I find myself questioning everything I thought I knew about myself but in reality I never knew myself.

I always knew myself as my father wanted me to be: the best, perfect, molded into whoever he desired. But here, under the vast expanse of the sky, surrounded by the hushed whispers of my secret, I realize I’ve been living a facade which i thought was my real identity. Each puff of the cigarette feels like a rebellion against the expectations that suffocate me. And yet, Amidst the fog of uncertainty, I get a strange feeling of liberation, a glimpse of the person I could really be; but it's when I'm alone.

I can't face the world where I'm known as miss perfect and the girl who sets the standard for other students. of that one taunt that parents usually use for their kids "Sharma ji's daughter, did this, did that, got 98% in exam bla bla bla." If I show the world that I'm not really what I portray? it would shatter the illusion and expose me to judgment and ridicule.No, I can't let my intrusive thoughts win. I can't allow them to consume me, for if they do, it'll be the end of everything I've worked so hard to maintain. But it's not like it's all fake.

I'm really a good student, topper of class, study my ass off, talented and future— whatever my dad wants.

And what?

I'm just smocking, and thinking what the fuck I'm? is it enough to ruin my image? Yes. It is.

And even if my dad knows I'm smoking I'll just tell me I was pressurized about studies and he'll forgive me ...in my fucking dreams!

Ahh I just want to go straight snd tell my dad "listen bro — dad I'm not doing anything again what you want. I've my own life, i want to make friends, go out, party and chill enjoy my god damnit life.

Well that's funny how easily i think about it but in reality it'll never happen , if dad says sit and I'll ask "on floor dad, or on chair dad?" Or dad says jump I'll ask "how high dad?"

So moral of the story...I'm just daddy's little obedient girl.

Somehow, the right place wrong time has become my relaxing time

Curious How?

I stand there, lost in my swirling thoughts, a voice suddenly cuts through the silence, jolting me back to reality.

A familiar voice drawls from behind me. "Nice smoke rings you got there." Die, die prisha die!

Startled, I turn to see vivan  leaning against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips. My heart sink  in my chest, a mixture of embarrassment and apprehension flooding my senses.

"What are you doing here?" I manage to stammer, hastily flicking the cigarette away, hoping to hide the evidence of my secret indulgence.

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on the discarded cigarette before returning to meet my eyes. "Just taking a stroll," he replies nonchalantly, his tone dripping with amusement. "Didn't expect to stumble upon the principal's daughter playing hooky behind the school."

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. Despite my best efforts to maintain my composure, I can't shake the nagging feeling that he sees right through me, sees the cracks in the facade I've worked so hard to uphold.

I try to muster a response, but the words stick in my throat. His presence feels like a spotlight, exposing me in all my vulnerability.

"You gonna say something or just stand there looking guilty?" Vivan's smirk widens, and I can't help but feel a surge of irritation at his casual demeanor.

"I-I..." I falter, searching for an excuse, a way to deflect his attention. But before I can gather my thoughts, Matt takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"Relax, angel," he says, his tone surprisingly gentle. "I won't rat you out. Your secret is safe with me."

I blink in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected kindness. For a moment, I'm struck by the realization that vivan isn't just the reckless troublemaker I've always perceived him to be. There's something more beneath the gentle tone  Something that intrigues and discourages me in equal amounts.

"Thanks," I mutter, grateful yet wary of his sudden kindness.

Vivan flashes me a crooked grin before pushing himself away from the wall and walking closer to me. "No problem. Just try not to get caught next time, alright?" I nod, not daring to look into his eyes. "But you know, right, angel? Everything has its own price." My breath hitches in my throat, something I saw coming. This bastard isn't a saint.

He places his index finger under my chin to force me to look into his dark hazel eyes. "Ready to become my little pet?" he asks, his smirk sly and confident.

I gulp and hold up my finger at him before glaring. “You wouldn’t dare!” I was furious that this punk was threatening or blackmailing me. One word from him could ruin my reputation and my relationship with my strict father.

He traps me against the wall, his hands on either side of me, his signature grin plastered on his face. He grabs ahold of my chin and tilts it upwards. His breath is hot against my neck as he leans close to my ear. “Oh sweetie!” he whispers, his breath sending shivers down my spine, “you’d be surprised at what I can do.” His smirk grows dark as he tilts my chin upwards towards his face.

I admit that I’m not on good terms with him. I’ve complained about him multiple times, called him an idiot, stupid, and many more names. We're not good friends. In fact, we’re not even close to being friends. While I’m the class topper, he’s one of the worst students since middle school. Dad doesn't like him. I shoot him a glare. "Do not—" I rarely get to speak, and when I do, I always get cut off, just like now.

"It's my time to take revenge, angel." He would call me that—angel. It was one of the reasons I’d complain to the teachers. And right now He must be referring to the time when he was called into the teacher's office, given a good  punishment, and told to clean the classroom because of me. "But I want to make it fun for both of us, so just say yes, and we're good."

"What do you mean, your pet?" I ask, my voice is shaking. "I'm not doing this."

"Just do as I say." No way in hell I would do what he wants. I slap his hand away. "Do as i say: if i say sit you'll ask "on floor or chair" if I say jump you ask "how high" I feel my heart breaking into millions of pieces but don't know why- his words can't make me feel this way... Right? He's just a nobody.  he's showing the side my father which I hate.

"No, go ahead and do whatever you want. I don't care! Tell whoever you want." I snap back. Why wouldn't I? This bastard is literally asking me to be his pet, like a dog or cat.

Again, his finger is under my chin, but I slap his hand away. "Hey, come on, angel, you're getting touchy now."

"Vivan, listen! I'm not doing what you imagine, so keep imagining. I don't give a fuck." I say this, but deep down we both know I’m shivering.

He leans closer to me, his lack of respect for personal space unnerving. His annoying ass doesn't know personal space is a shit! "Oh Swearing isn’t your cup of tea, angel." I don’t know where this attitude of his comes from, but the way he always plays it cool makes it seem like his family works in an ice factory. He flashes me a big smile and speaks. "Don't worry, angel. I'll give you a day or two to think it through. After all, you don’t want me to viral this beautiful video of yours, do you?" My eyes widen, and my jaw drops as his phone’s display shines in my eyes, showing me blowing smoke rings.

He says it so casually. And of course, I turn my head so fast that my neck almost breaks. His face is just inches away from mine. "Vivan, stop this right now. This isn’t funny." I try to snatch his phone, but his hand is up in the air. Why the hell do guys have to be so tall? And he's tall as fuck.

"This is funny, angel. Can’t you see? Miss Perfect, the sweetest girl, snapping and getting mad at me. Wow! This is funny," he chuckles.

My blood boils at his audacity. This punk thinks he can toy with me and get away with it. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks mix of anger and humiliation.

"You think this is funny?" I snap, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. "You think blackmailing me is some kind of joke?"

Vivan just laughs, a low, mocking sound that grates on my nerves. "Relax, angel. It's just a bit of fun. Besides, you're the one breaking the rules. I’m just taking advantage of the situation."

I glare at him, my mind racing for a way out of this mess. "Dream on" I say through gritted teeth. "I'm not becoming your fucking pet do whatever you want." I can already see my future where I'll get one or two slap from my dad. The anger and disappointment in his eyes and me standing in his study with my head down and listening to him like a statue. I'm not allowed to speak, explain myself or saw any emotions neither can I cry.

That's how it always goes.

Back to present.

His eyes gleam with triumph, and he steps even closer, invading my personal space. "That's more like it," he murmurs. "For now, just do as I say. Follow my lead, be my little pet, and we'll both get what we want."

I swallow hard, the reality of my predicament sinking in. I can't let him control me, but what choice do I have? If that video gets out, my life as I know it will be over.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "No," I say firmly, my voice is stronger than I expected. "I'm not doing this. Find someone else to entertain you."

Vivan raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting my refusal. "You sure about that, angel? You really want to risk it?"

I nod, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I can muster. "Yes. Do whatever you want, but I'm not playing your game."

For a moment, he just stares at me, and I can't tell what he's thinking. Then, he lets out a low chuckle and steps back. "Alright, Prisha. I'll give you some time to think about it. But remember, this offer won't last forever. Think about it carefully."

He tucks his phone back into his pocket and gives me one last smirk. "See you around, angel."

I stand there, trembling, as Vivan's footsteps fade away. My mind is a whirlwind of fear, anger, and desperation. If he goes through with his threat and makes that video public, everything I've worked so hard for will crumble in an instant.

My father would be devastated. The principal's daughter caught smoking in the schoolyard? It would be the scandal of the year. His disappointment would be unbearable, a crushing weight that I'd have to carry every day. I can already see the look on his face, the mixture of disbelief and hurt. And the shame... the shame would be overwhelming. He often gives others examples, saying, "My daughter isn't like the kids of this generation. She's cultured, disciplined, and a role model."

I know smoking is not a big deal for many and it really isn't, but it is when you're from a strict family background, when you're the best student, when you're the principal's daughter, and especially when you're an Indian.

Even if it's just a smoking video, soon the rumors will start: that she drinks, meets boys, goes to clubs, bars. People love to gossip and spread rumors. It doesn't matter if they're false. Just give them a topic, and they'll add their own spices and new plot twists. The idea of being the center of such scandalous gossip makes my skin crawl.

I think about the whispers that would follow me through the halls, the judgmental stares from students and teachers alike. My carefully crafted image of Miss Perfect, shattered in an instant. The thought makes my stomach churn.

What have I done? I tried to break free, to find a moment of peace in my chaotic life, and now it's all spiraling out of control.

I slumped against the wall, feeling a cold brick on my back. My breaths come in short, ragged gasps as I try to calm down. I need to think, to figure out my next move. But all I can focus on is the impending disaster that Vivan holds over my head.

Fuck that asshole

How could I let it come to this? I was always so careful, so controlled. And now, one moment of weakness, one desperate attempt to breathe, threatens.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back. I can’t afford to fall apart now. I have to find a way out of this mess. But how? Vivan's smirk, his taunting words, echo in my mind, making it hard to think straight.

I push off the wall and begin to walk, each step heavy with dread. I need to get away from here, away from the reminder of my mistake. But even as I move, the weight of what might happen follows me, a constant shadow.

For now, all I can do is hope that Vivan was bluffing, that he'll give me time to think, to come up with a plan. But deep down, I know that I can’t trust him. He thrives on chaos and he hates me so much and I've given him the perfect weapon.

And I can't lose to him.

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