BENEATH THE CREST: A CHARTERHOUSE NOVEL

Louisa clutched her Charterhouse blazer, the gold lion badge feeling kinda heavy, like a reminder of how different this school was from her life. Her mom had worked her butt off to get it from the school's ridiculously overpriced outfitter. No way was Louisa giving up now. This was her shot.

Head held high, she grabbed the nylon bag with the dry-cleaned (but still wine-stained, ugh) Louis Vuitton dress and shoved it in her backpack. Her new uniform – crisp white shirt, perfect navy skirt her mom had tailored – felt like armor. Today was a new day. Mom had already left for work.

Stepping out into the usual Lower East Side chaos, Louisa headed to the bus stop. The realness of her neighborhood was a good reminder compared to Charterhouse's fake perfection. Then she saw the bright red hair.

"Ellie!" Louisa called, even managing a small smile.

Ellie turned, looking super relieved. "Louisa! You okay after yesterday?" She gave Louisa a quick, tight hug.

"Yeah," Louisa said, trying to sound tougher than she felt. "I will be."

Scarlett joined them, checking out Louisa's fresh uniform and determined face. "Ready for the sequel?" she asked, with this intense look in her eyes.

Louisa nodded, standing up straighter. "Bring it on."

The three friends hopped on the bus, the engine rumbling like their nervous energy. The ride to Charterhouse felt different today, like they were on a mission.

Louisa hugged her backpack, the ruined dress a reminder of the mess she was in, but her eyes had this new spark. No way was she gonna let them win. She was walking into that school with her head held high.

***

The sleek black Mercedes AMG G-Wagon, a familiar beast in the Charterhouse parking lot, exhaled softly as Thea Devereux stepped out. The chauffeur, a silent figure in a dark suit and glasses, held the door with practiced deference. A designer bag swung from Thea's shoulder as she moved towards the imposing double doors, an aura of effortless entitlement surrounding her.

"Thea! Yo, wait up." Marcus Morgan's voice, laced with his usual playful urgency, cut through the morning air.

He unfolded himself from his vibrant orange McLaren, a sleek backpack slung casually over one shoulder, and jogged to catch up with her.

"Good morning, Marcus," Thea greeted, her tone coolly polite as they approached the entrance.

"Morning, Devereux," Marcus said, falling into step beside her. "Look at you, acting all innocent after yesterday's hallway drama. I get you sticking up for the scholarship girl – anything to go against Anya Sterling, right? But King… King publicly siding with her against Cassia? Cassia Blackwood, his first love? That's got my head spinning."

Thea paused briefly at her locker, a knowing glint in her eyes. "At least you understand my… aversion to Sterling. As for King… I can't say I was entirely surprised by his reaction."

"You weren't?" Marcus leaned against the adjacent locker, his curiosity piqued. "Thea, don't leave me hanging. What do you know?"

As Marcus pressed her for answers, Thea's gaze flickered across the hallway, catching sight of Louisa Wren, flanked by Ellie and Scarlett, as they walked with determined strides towards their classroom. A subtle, almost imperceptible smile touched Thea's lips.

"You'll find out soon enough, Marcus," Thea said, a hint of cryptic amusement in her voice. "You would."

With that, she turned and began to organize her locker, leaving Marcus to ponder her enigmatic words and the unfolding mystery surrounding Jayden King Walton's unexpected allegiance.

The low hum of electronic equipment filled the Charterhouse broadcast room, a space that usually belonged solely to Finn Powell. Sunlight streamed through the large window overlooking the sports fields, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

Finn sat hunched over a soundboard, headphones resting around his neck, his fingers deftly manipulating sliders and knobs. The air was thick with the scent of wires and the faint static of unused microphones.

The door creaked open, a rare intrusion into Finn's sanctuary. He glanced up, a flicker of surprise in his usually impassive eyes as he saw Jayden King Walton step inside. Jayden rarely ventured into this tucked-away corner of the school.

Jayden leaned against the doorframe, his usual air of effortless cool slightly subdued, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. "Powell," he said, his voice low, cutting through the electronic hum.

Finn removed his headphones, placing them on the console. "King. Didn't expect to see you down here." His tone was neutral, observant, giving nothing away.

"I wanted to talk to you," Jayden said, pushing himself off the doorframe and stepping further into the room.

He surveyed the array of equipment, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "You seem to have a… knack for knowing things."

Finn's lips quirked into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Information flows through the wires, King. One just has to listen."

Jayden's gaze sharpened. "Yesterday… in the library. With Wren."

Finn's neutral mask remained intact. "Just a casual observation of an… unfolding situation."

"You told her about the dress," Jayden stated, his tone direct, though without accusation. "About Cassia. About me."

Finn met his gaze steadily. "She seemed… unaware of the currents she was swimming in. A little perspective can be helpful, as I believe I mentioned."

A beat of silence hung between them. Jayden finally broke it. "Why, Finn?" His question was quiet, almost a genuine inquiry rather than a demand. "Why involve yourself?"

Finn leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful. "Let's just say… the dynamics at Charterhouse have become… predictable. A little disruption can be… enlightening."

He paused, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. "And sometimes, King, even those on the highest branches can benefit from seeing the forest from a different vantage point."

Jayden studied Finn for a long moment, the wheels turning in his mind. He sensed there was more to Finn's involvement than mere curiosity. This quiet observer saw things others missed.

"So," Jayden said slowly, a hint of a challenge in his voice, "what exactly do you see, Powell?"