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  Idol Star School

  Idol High School Book 1

  Nara Noelle

  Idol Star School

  Four dangerous boys are determined to ruin me… and the whole world is watching.

  Sammy. Terry. Arang. RJ.

  The stars of Pluto Entertainment, kings of the music industry.

  Except they’re no ordinary pop stars.

  Their path to fame wasn’t pretty, and I’ve made it my mission to expose the skeletons in their closet.

  From the moment they lay their eyes on me, they know I don’t belong at Idol High School, where students are competing for fame and success in front of a hungry audience.

  In fact, they hate me for it.

  As my new teachers, they’re willing to do anything to make my life a living hell.

  But what they don’t know is that I’m nineteen, not seventeen.

  I have a fake name, complete with a fake ID and fake papers.

  Why?

  Because I need to blend in with the other students—girls aren’t allowed here.

  Copyright © 2020 by Nara Noelle

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously. All resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental.

  To everybody going through a difficult time. Don’t forget how strong you are.

  Contents

  1. Honey

  2. Honey

  3. Honey

  4. Honey

  5. Honey

  6. Honey

  7. Honey

  8. Honey

  9. Honey

  10. RJ

  11. RJ

  12. RJ

  13. Arang

  14. Sammy

  15. Sammy

  16. Honey

  17. Terry

  18. Terry

  19. Honey

  20. Honey

  21. RJ

  22. Sammy

  23. Arang

  24. Arang

  25. Arang

  26. Honey

  27. Honey

  28. Honey

  29. Honey

  30. Honey

  31. Honey

  32. Terry

  Also by Nara Noelle

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Honey

  Whenever I shed tears of disappointment, my brother Domin used to tell me, “You know, Honey, hard work never betrays you. Sure, the results will screw you over sometimes, but your efforts were not in vain, so long as you don’t give up.”

  I never forgot those words. Maybe because, back then, I ran off crying to him seven days a week. This probably makes me come off as a wimpy little brat. Hear me out though: shit was tough for us. We grew up in South Duvil Children’s Home, the oldest orphanage in the city. Yup. The one that makes the headlines every year for its rodent infestations. I’m talking infestations so severe toddlers have died from rat-bite fever. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. The last time I saw the orphanage on the news was after a new housefather molested twelve- and thirteen-year-old girls who retaliated by stabbing him with kitchen knives in his sleep.

  What can I say? When you find yourself in hell before you’ve mastered the times tables, your childhood ends there. You either learn how to form strategic alliances or get burned alive.

  In saying that, the bond I shared with Domin was far more meaningful than the usual friendships of convenience among the kids at South Devil’s—which was what everyone called the orphanage, even our schoolteachers.

  Domin became my brother on my second night there. I’ll never forget the throbbing pain in my chest during the first two months, back when I could picture my mom’s face as soon as I clenched my eyes shut. For me, the most traumatizing part of living at South Devil’s was the fact that I was only pretending to be an orphan. The truth was, I had parents. Sure, they’d never parented me—neither together nor separately. However, I knew they were somewhere out there, seeing the same sun, roaming the same earth, and breathing the same air as me.

  I don’t remember much about my life before arriving at South Devil’s. There are a few faint flashes lingering at the back of my mind, occasionally coming back to me in the form of nightmares, but otherwise, I can’t even recall any names. Seriously. Not my mom’s name, not my grandmother’s name, and certainly not my absent dad’s name. Embarrassingly enough, I don’t actually know my birth name. Honey was what my mom called me when she was drunk, which was pretty much all the time, so she gave me a piece of paper with the name “Honey Key” and my supposed birthdate scribbled on it. Oh, and I do remember what her last words to me were.

  “Tell them you’ve never met your parents and your grandmother died recently.”

  Well, at least the latter wasn’t a lie.

  Now, I know motivational speakers and life coaches say that people who don’t want to be in your life don’t deserve to be in it anyway, but seven-year-old me didn’t know that. On my first night at South Devil’s, I stayed up bawling and begging for my mama, which pissed off the older girls in my room. They shoved me onto the floor with my nose squished against the cold tile and kicked me until I wet myself. Despite my fear of angering them, I still couldn’t turn off the waterworks during my second night. My only escape was to run down the hallway and curl up behind the tattered curtains.

  “What the heck?” Domin said, beaming at me as he held up the curtains.

  I trembled with fear as he peered down at me. He was tall with small freckles scattered across his cheeks.

  “Why are you shaking like that? Are you scared you might be in trouble?” He chuckled, then lowered his voice. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell on you. Besides, I’m not supposed to be out here either.”

  When he offered me a hand, I simply stared at it. I later learned the hard way that being shy is no excuse for ignoring such gestures. Since the kids at South Devil were insecure about people looking down on them, they immediately lashed out at anyone who didn’t give them the response they wanted. However, Domin was different.

  “You’re new here, aren’t you? What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Honey,” I replied.

  “Hi, Honey. I’m Domin. You don’t feel like going to sleep yet, do you?”

  I shrugged, twirling my pigtails.

  “I hate bedtimes too. It’s stupid that we have lights out at nine o’clock. Even on weekends, can you believe it? How am I meant to watch Future Idol?” He rolled his eyes animatedly. “You know what? Why don’t I give you a special tour around South Devil’s? I’ll take you to the television room. It’s probably locked up, but I can get us through.”

  So I followed him. He took me to the basement, stopping at each floor in between to tell me the best hiding places in case I ever wanted to skip school. Once we were standing outside a wooden double door with a chain and lock, he bent down and pulled out a key from his knockoff Converse sneakers.

  “Want to know how I got hold of this?” he said, holding up the key.

  “You stole it,” I muttered plainly.

  Even before I arrived at South Devil’s, I hadn’t been an obedient, honest child. No wonder my mom didn’t want to raise me. I’d stolen plenty of candy bars and stickers—the candy bars because I was hungry and the stickers because I was enticed by the holographic glitter. Other than a pair of reindeer-print thermal pajamas I’d gotten from
a charity drive, those candy bars and stickers were the only things I’d brought with me.

  “Not quite,” Domin replied as he put the key in the lock. “One of our housemothers dropped this without realizing. By the time I came across it, she’d already gotten a new one, so I’ve been putting it to good use.”

  The television room was cold, and I could hear rats gnawing in the darkened corner. However, once we began watching Future Idol, none of that mattered. It was the first time I’d ever seen a talent show, and I wouldn’t have enjoyed it as much if I’d watched it alone.

  Domin knew every little detail about the program. He gave me a rundown on the judges’ careers—from the entertainment agencies they’d worked for to the hits they’d produced or choreographed. Although I was too shy to respond, I was impressed by his extensive knowledge of pop songs, and his singing impressions made me crack up.

  After the episode ended, I realized the fun was over. To put off returning to my room, I mustered up the courage to ask him a question.

  “How do you know so many songs?” I asked, grabbing his wrist as he reached for the remote control.

  “It’s not as if I know every song under the sun. I’m just familiar with some of the most popular ones,” he replied.

  “What about the songs that came out a long time ago? How come you know the lyrics to those ones?”

  “I’m old,” he croaked in an elderly man’s voice.

  “No, you’re not.” I adjusted my thick, scratched-up glasses. “How old are you?”

  “I’m ten. What about you?”

  “Seven.”

  “See. I’m three whole years older than you, child,” he teased, patting my head. “Plus, I’ve always been an old soul.”

  “Good for you.”

  “You’re feisty, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “I guess that’s a good thing though, especially considering how little you are.”

  “I’m not little,” I hissed, getting up from the sofa.

  “Hey, where are you going?” he called out as he turned off the television. “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “Apology accepted.” I sat back down. “You’re a good singer, by the way.”

  “You think so? Thanks,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Yeah. When you sing, you don’t sound like a child. You sound like a celebrity.”

  “Should I tell you a secret?”

  “Let me guess, you want to be a singer one day?”

  “Yup. I’m going to be a superstar.”

  Had anyone else said the same words, I would’ve questioned their conviction. However, since I really did mean it when I complimented him, I simply nodded in agreement.

  After Domin let out a massive yawn, he asked, “What’s your room number? I’ll take you back to your room.”

  On our walk back to the third floor, he whispered the details of his plans. He wanted to start going to auditions in middle school and was already preparing for it. His goal for the next decade was to debut in a boy band, and I couldn’t help but think of how that was an awfully long time. As I stared at the green moldy spots on the wall, my eyes watered at the thought of living here for the next ten years of my life.

  When Domin and I arrived at my floor, I heard cackles coming from my room and broke into sobs.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I collapsed onto the ground.

  “Come on. I’ll help you up.”

  When he held out his hand, I pushed it away. After a minute, he lifted me up and carried me.

  “I don’t want to go inside,” I confessed when he put me back down.

  “Why?”

  I glared at the door like it was a cockroach I was about to throw my shoe at. All was quiet now. Although the other girls in my room had probably fallen asleep, I wanted to wait for ten more minutes to be safe.

  “What’s bothering you? Did you see a centipede under your bed? We have plenty of those around here. I know they’re hideous, but you’ll get used to it.”

  “It’s not that,” I said as big fat tears trickled down my cheeks.

  “What’s the matter then? Don’t you like your bed?” He squinted. “Are the girls in your room giving you a hard time?”

  I averted my gaze.

  “Aha. Is that why you were crying in the hallway?” He clutched my hands, causing me to flinch in surprise. “Listen, you’re going to be safe. You’re with me.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled, sniffling.

  “Honey, if you didn’t already know, the grown-ups here suck. Our housemothers and housefathers are nothing like real moms and dads. That doesn’t mean you have to be all alone though. I’ll be your big brother.”

  “My big brother? But we’re not related.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m your brother now.”

  After he flexed his lanky arm, we burst out laughing.

  Chapter 2

  Honey

  It might seem ridiculous how quickly undying loyalty blossomed between Domin and me, but that’s what children are like. Nobody makes a new best friend faster than a kid who’s bored and lonely.

  We were both misfits in completely different ways. I was made fun of for my chubby cheeks and clunky glasses, whereas he never connected with the people at South Devil’s because he had what everyone else lacked: ambition.

  You’d think the other guys would torment him for standing out, but nope, they didn’t mess with him. I mean, aside from a few of the boisterous ones who occasionally made fun of him for his pop song obsession. He had no problem shrugging it off though. At the end of the day, he was untouchable, and this wasn’t just because he looked several years older than he actually was.

  Everyone knew Domin wasn’t going to end up wasting away at a strenuous job that barely kept food on the table. Though he came from nothing, he was destined for greatness. For one, he had a magnetic presence. When he spoke, his eyes lit up, and he looked like he was going to conquer the universe.

  However, he had no desire to become anything other than a performer. He was going to take the world by storm. To me, it was never a matter of if he’d ever be able to sign with an entertainment agency; it was merely a matter of when.

  For years, we snuck out of our rooms after lights out to watch the hottest new talent show on television. After the episode ended, we’d try to stay up as late as possible, basking in the comfort of one another’s presence. He would tell me about his dreams and give me a mini performance of the songs he’d practiced singing and dancing to.

  Those times were what kept me going. When I sat on the sofa, resting my head on his lap or shoulder, I imagined what it would be like if we were real siblings from a wealthy family with a house to ourselves. Later, once I’d crawled into bed, I’d clasp my hands together, close my eyes, and pray for us. Someday, my brother and I were going to have it all.

  Although our housefather caught us hanging out in the television room several times and beat us as punishment—each time more severely than before—it never deterred us. The memories we shared were worth the bruises.

  My childhood was otherwise unremarkable. Unlike Domin, I didn’t have any passions. I had one of the best test scores in my class, but I knew it wasn’t because I was particularly gifted; it was because I went to the worst school in the district. From the moment the other kids at our orphanage went into middle school, they cut class and ganged up on scrawny, elderly men in alleyways to get hold of cigarettes. No matter how many hours I dedicated to making a science project board or writing an article for the student paper, I always found it torn to shreds when I woke up the next day.

  Shortly after Domin turned sixteen, he announced something that would go on to change our lives irrevocably.

  “Do you remember the audition I had last week?” he said, bouncing toward me.

  “The one at Pluto Entertainment?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Guess what? I just got a call from the casting manager,” he cried out.

  I froze. r />
  “Honey, I did it! I passed the second round of auditions.”

  “You did? That’s the last round, right?”

  “Yup. I’m officially an idol trainee.”

  I threw my arms around him and pulled him in tight. There was no need for words. When he began quivering, I realized he was weeping.

  “Finally,” he muttered. “I’d be lying if I told you I never doubted myself. It was so disheartening, preparing for auditions over and over, only to spend twenty seconds singing, then hear the words, ‘Thank you. That’s enough.’ Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

  “This is proof that everything you’ve ever dreamed of is going to come true,” I said.

  “I have a long road ahead of me though.” He gave me a pained smile before wiping his face dry. “God, I can’t believe I’ll be moving out of this shithole. I’m used to sharing a room with total psychos, so I’m not worried about that part. It’ll be weird not having you around. Honey, I’m going to miss you a lot.”

  “Me too.” I bit the inside of my mouth to suppress the wave of sorrow that had taken over me. “When are you leaving?”

  “Next weekend.”

  My heart ached as I pictured living in South Devil’s without him. We cried together for the rest of the night. I didn’t want him to leave me—he was the only true friend I’d been blessed with. Nevertheless, I knew it was time for him to go after his dream.