The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella’s POV:

Kissing me. Jason just kissed me in public! And the paparazzi? Oh, they practically erupted like a pack of starving wolves, the paparazzi were having a field day, cameras flashing, shutters clicking furiously. Aaaargh! Now I was in the spotlight. Thank goodness for this mask—at least it gave me a slim chance of slipping out of here unrecognized. But if I didn’t get out soon, I’d be swarmed. The crowd had gasped, and I could feel every single eye in the room zero in on us. Ugh! Jason King, you idiot! Do you have any idea what you just did?

My mind was racing as I tried to process the reality of what just happened. I could already see how this would spiral: some nosy student would figure out who I was, tell the media, and then bam—the paparazzi would start digging, and with their investigative tendency they’d uncover my background. They’d unearth every detail, every secret, and soon the whole country would know I was The Kingsley’s daughter.

My pulse was pounding, my head spinning. I wanted to scream, to shove him away, to disappear into thin air. The mask was now my refuge at least they couldn’t see my face, not all of it. But I had to get out of here, fast, before anyone connected the dots.

I need to disappear. Now.

I’d finally managed to keep my life low-key, out of the limelight, living as just Ella, not Ella Kingsley, daughter of the most powerful family in the world. But noooo, here comes Jason, planting one dramatic kiss, and now my entire life is teetering on the edge of exposure.

Life as I knew it? Officially over.

Damn it, Jason! I glanced at him, the smug, oblivious fool, basking in the attention, while I was trying to figure out how to vanish into thin air. He looked so pleased with himself, as if he’d just pulled off the world’s most charming stunt.

Was it too early to be a murderer? Because, honestly, I was feeling downright murderous as I glared at Jason and his infuriatingly smug face. How did my life get so complicated?

One moment, I was just an ordinary girl trying to blend in, avoiding the flash of cameras and whispers of scandal. And then Jason King—Mr. Charming himself—decided to drop a public, grandstanding kiss on me like we were in some sort of cheesy rom-com. Only this was real life, my real life, and I could practically feel it spiraling out of control with each camera flash.

The crowd was buzzing, probably imagining some epic love story, while I was calculating just how far I’d need to run to escape before anyone recognized me. How could he be so clueless? So reckless? Did he even realize what kind of chaos he’d just unleashed?

I clenched my fists, my jaw, trying to keep it together. But, oh, the temptation to smack that self-satisfied look right off his face...

I barely managed to excuse myself, trying to escape this ridiculous party that I should’ve known better than to attend. I tried to make a swift, inconspicuous exit from this disaster of a party. But of course, fate had other plans. The paparazzi spotted me instantly, swarming like vultures, shoving microphones in my face.

"Miss, can we get your name?"

"How do you know Jason King?"

"Are you two a couple?"

"How did you feel when he kissed you?"

And you ask why I hate these kinds of parties. Each question was like a dagger of annoyance digging deeper into my patience. They didn’t just want answers; they wanted a story, a headline. And I was the unwilling star.

Just when I thought I might actually scream, my saving grace arrived in the form of Max, Dylan, and, yes, even Jason, who started pushing the paparazzi back, forming a human barricade around me. Jason’s car pulled up front, and he grabbed my hand, leading me toward it while Max and Dylan held the press at bay. We slipped into the car just in time for a quick getaway.

Sure, leaving Max and Dylan to deal with the vultures wasn’t exactly fair, but they were big boys—they could handle it. Right now, I had a bigger problem to deal with: Jason, who looked all too pleased with himself. I was trapped in a car with the one person I wanted to throttle more than anything in the world.

Once we were finally speeding away from the chaos, I slumped back into my seat, glancing sideways at Jason. He looked irritatingly calm, a hint of amusement in his eyes, like this was all some big joke. Meanwhile, I was seriously plotting his demise. How hard could it be to get rid of him without incriminating myself?

All I had to do now was figure out a way to kill this overbearing idiot without incriminating myself...

The second we were safely out of sight, I ripped off my mask—the one small barrier that had kept me safe from total exposure—and whipped around to glare at Jason, practically shaking with rage.

"What the hell was that for?" I snapped, my voice barely contained. "Why, for the love of God, would you kiss me in a room full of paparazzi? Actually, why the hell did you kiss me at all?!"

He glanced over, looking somewhere between amused and guilty. I could see that smug smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, and it only made me angrier. If he wasn’t driving, I swear I’d be strangling him by now. My fingers actually itched with the urge.

"Ella, calm down," he said smoothly, like he hadn’t just thrown my entire life into chaos.

"Calm down?" I scoffed, my frustration bubbling over. "Do you realize what you’ve done? Now I’m going to be plastered all over the tabloids, and everyone will start digging! I can kiss my quiet life goodbye, thanks to you!"

He shrugged, still watching the road like this was no big deal. "People were bound to notice you eventually, Ella. Might as well be tonight."

Oh, he was impossible. "Bound to—?! This isn’t about being noticed, Jason! I didn’t ask to be part of your headline-making scheme!"

But he just kept driving, that maddening smirk still on his face. "You know, it’s kinda cute when you’re mad."

I clenched my fists, breathing deeply to keep from losing it.

And furthermore, he tried denying it "it wasn’t my fault! I didn’t do it on purpose—someone pushed me," Jason said, trying to defend himself.

"Yeah, right," I replied, crossing my arms and glaring at him. The nerve of this guy! He actually thought I’d believe that?

He looked at me, all wide-eyed and innocent, like he wasn’t the cause of my current expedition. "I’m serious, Ella! It wasn’t planned!"

"Right, so you just accidentally ended up kissing me in front of a horde of paparazzi?" I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes!" he insisted. "I was just... caught off guard, okay? It wasn’t supposed to happen like that."

I shook my head, more frustrated than ever. "Well, congratulations, Jason. Now everyone with a camera captured the moment and probably thinks we’re some power couple. You’ve single-handedly turned my life into a circus."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking genuinely apologetic—but I wasn’t ready to let him off the hook that easily.

"You really have no idea, do you?" I said, shaking my head. "This is exactly why I avoid people like you. Everything’s just a game, and you don’t care who gets dragged into it."

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, clearly not sure what to say. For once, he actually seemed speechless. Maybe he was finally realizing just how much he’d messed things up.

"And for the record," I added, narrowing my eyes at him, "if you ever pull a stunt like that again, you’ll regret it. Got it?"

He nodded slowly, looking at me with a strange mix of regret and something else I couldn’t quite place. But I wasn’t sticking around to figure it out. Not tonight.

I needed to do damage control—and fast. The thought of my masked face plastered all over the tabloids, headlines screaming about Jason King’s mystery girl, made my stomach twist. I needed something juicier to draw attention away from our moment, and who better to cover it up than Amber? The Prescott daughter caught in a scandal? Now that had potential.

Who better to throw under the spotlight than the Prescott Princess herself?

Amber Prescott was practically begging for a scandal with the way she flaunted herself at every event. Her half-mask barely covering anything, her high-maintenance attitude... she was perfect tabloid bait. If I played this right, her name would be all over the news, and I’d be conveniently forgotten.

The plan was forming in my mind, and I couldn’t help but smirk. All I needed was my laptop to set things in motion.

Sue me, But desperate times call for desperate measures. I needed a scape goat and Amber was the perfect person.

Amber Prescott, congratulations—you’re about to be the headline of the year.