NOVEL WEB Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – The Angel and the Outcast
(Morana's POV)
The aroma of coffee and vanilla hung thick in the air, the low hum of conversation blending with the occasional clink of spoons against ceramic mugs. The Ravenwood Café was my sanctuary—a place where I could sink into the corner booth, drown in music, and pretend the world didn't exist. The dim lighting, paired with the soft indie rock playing overhead, made it the perfect escape.
Except today, it wasn't.
Because she was here.
Astria Beaumont.
The golden girl of Crestmoor College. The one with a flawless reputation, a saintly smile, and a fan club that followed her around like lost puppies. The kind of girl who could breathe, and people would call it inspiring. I would've ignored her like I always did—except she wasn't at her usual table with her perfect little friend group. No, today she was standing right in front of me.
"Hey, is this seat taken?"
Her voice was soft, polite—like she already knew the answer but was graciously asking anyway.
I pulled out an earbud, barely glancing up from my sketchbook. "Pretty sure there are about a dozen other tables you could sit at."
She didn't budge.
"I know. But this one's the only spot near an outlet." She motioned toward the wall beside my table, where my phone charger was plugged in.
I stared at her. "You mean, in this entire café, the only available outlet just so happens to be at my table?"
Astria smiled—that smile that made people fall over themselves to please her. "Guess I got lucky."
I scoffed. "I didn't."
But instead of leaving, she just laughed—a light, airy sound that grated against my nerves. Without waiting for permission, she slid into the seat across from me, setting down a pristine leather-bound notebook and a caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream.
Unbelievable.
I glanced around the café, half-expecting someone to be filming this absurdity. Maybe I was being pranked. Because in what world did Astria Beaumont voluntarily sit with me, Morana Graves—the college's walking bad omen?
I wasn't exactly popular. Correction: I was the opposite of popular. There were rumors, exaggerated stories about me—how I once threatened a professor, or how I had a "tragic, secret past" that made me cold and unapproachable. All complete BS, of course. But people loved gossip, and I had long since stopped trying to fight it.
Astria, though? She was the kind of person rumors never touched. Too perfect, too adored, too untouchable.
And now she was in my space.
I forced my focus back onto my sketchbook, but my hands weren't steady anymore. My pencil hovered over the half-finished drawing of a gothic cathedral—one of my favorites to sketch when I wanted to be anywhere but here.
"You draw?"
I nearly snapped the pencil in half. "No, I summon demons with graphite. This is just a side effect."
Astria didn't seem fazed. "That's cool. Your lines are really detailed."
I clenched my jaw. Was she actually complimenting me? Little Miss Perfect was supposed to be annoyed by me, not interested.
"Is this a habit of yours?" I asked, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice. "Inserting yourself into people's personal space?"
Astria twirled her straw between her fingers. "Only when they look like they could use some company."
I stilled.
The words hit deeper than they should've, and for half a second, I thought I saw something flicker in her expression—something knowing, something sharp beneath the angelic exterior.
My heart did something stupid. A single, treacherous flutter. The kind that shouldn't happen.
I squashed it immediately.
"Well, you thought wrong," I muttered, flipping to a new page in my sketchbook. "I don't need company, least of all yours."
Astria sighed dramatically, stirring her macchiato. "You don't have to be so hostile, you know. I'm just sitting here."
"And I'm just saying you don't have to."
A small smirk played at her lips, like she found me amusing. Like this was all some fun little game.
God, she was insufferable.
Still, my stupid heart wouldn't calm down. Maybe it was the way her golden hair caught the light through the window, or how her green eyes flickered with something almost mischievous, almost challenging—like she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
No. Absolutely not.
I went back to sketching, pretending she didn't exist, pretending my chest wasn't annoyingly warm.
Astria just sat there, sipping her macchiato, completely unbothered.
Twenty Minutes Later
I had almost successfully tuned her out. Almost.
Until I heard it.
"Hey, Astria, there you are!"
A voice too familiar, too unwelcome.
Aurelle.
I didn't even have to look up. I already knew she was smiling that condescending smile of hers, the one she reserved for people she thought were beneath her.
And for whatever reason, Aurelle hated me. Maybe it was because I never played into the whole "worship Astria" thing like everyone else did. Maybe it was just my general existence. Who knew?
"Didn't think I'd find you over here," Aurelle said, her tone dripping with fake sweetness. "With… her."
I smirked, finally glancing up. "Oh, please. Don't stop talking on my account."
Aurelle's eyes narrowed. "I was just surprised, that's all. Astria, you never sit over here."
Astria just shrugged, completely unruffled. "Thought I'd try something new."
Aurelle scoffed, then turned to me, her expression dripping with fake concern. "You know, Morana, I heard the weirdest rumor about you the other day."
Here we go.
I stretched out in my seat, feigning boredom. "Let me guess. You heard I'm actually a vampire. Or that I sacrificed a goat under the full moon. Wait, wait—was it the one where I ran away from home because of my 'dark past'?"
Aurelle's smirk deepened. "No. This one was better." She leaned in slightly, as if about to share some scandalous secret. "I heard that you have a crush on Astria."
The world tilted.
The air froze.
And for the first time since she sat down, Astria actually looked surprised.
I laughed—too loudly, too forcefully. "Wow. That's a new one. Hate to disappoint, but I'd rather kiss a cactus than fall for 'Little Miss Perfect' over here."
Astria arched a brow. "Little Miss Perfect?"
I waved a hand. "You, obviously."
Aurelle tilted her head, watching me too closely. "You're blushing."
My entire body stiffened. I was not.
Astria, to her credit, only smiled—a different kind of smile this time. Not the polite one she gave to everyone else. Something smaller, more intrigued.
Like she had just figured something out.
I grabbed my sketchbook and stood abruptly. "Right. This has been fun and all, but I have actual important things to do."
Before Astria or Aurelle could say another word, I walked out of the café, ignoring the way my pulse was racing.
Because the worst part wasn't Aurelle's comment.
It was that for one stupid moment, one second of absolute insanity… I hadn't completely hated the idea.