The bag was ripped off of Zane’s head. There wasn’t much to see in the darkness, but what was illuminated gave him conniptions.

The room was pitch black, except for a floodlight hanging above him, illuminating a congregation of people draped in dorm room blankets and bedsheets like a bunch of Halloween ghosts. Six of them held ends of rope binding Zane to a chair at the center of a ring of desks where more “ghosts” lurked at the edge of the circle of light.

“God dammit not again!” Zane shouted.

“Silence!” Another floodlight flashed above a stack of desks where the apparent leader was perched. He was trussed up in curtains and pillowcases over his sheets, with a broom for a scepter like some kind of phantasmal pope. “You have been brought her for sins against this council! What say you in your defense?”

“Go fuck yourself!” Zane passionately answered. “Now someone better tell me where I am and why I’m here or I will beat your shit so hard you will piss blood for a year!”

The leader silenced the uneasy procession by banging his broomstick on the table. “You have been brought before one of the seven secret clubs of Andronicus Academy for crimes against its precepts.”

“Are you for real? Are you fucking for real?”

“More real than a heathen like you could ever be!” The bedsheet pope swiped him across the face with the broomstick. “You have been deemed guilty of the following transgressions! Brother Alffaard, step forward and deliver your testimony!”

A member of the procession stepped forward. “During my routine observation, I witnessed the perpetrator approach the immaculate Desiree Williams (may her beauty never fade) and initiate contact unsolicited, interrupting her afternoon reading!” The pope on a rope once again banged on the table to silence the murmurs, and Alffaard continued. “He then proceeded to impose upon her benevolence for seven minutes and forty-three seconds, during which he subjected the angelic Desiree Williams’ (may her beauty never fade) perfect ears to obscenities no fewer than two times!”

The room erupted in riotous jeers and accusations, demanding recompense ranging from Chinese water torture to removing his fingernails.

“What kind of fucked up club is this?” Zane demanded.

The lights went on, and the darkness was illuminated. Posters of Desiree Williams covered every inch of the walls, likenesses occupied the floor. High res photos, paintings, sketches, cartoon drawings, anime adaptations, sculptures, and a massive shrine with an effigy built around a basin holding a bookmark, a used up pen, a thank you note written in cutesy cursive with the recipient’s name scribbled out, and a candy wrapper.

“You have crossed the Desiree Williams fan club!” the dope of a pope shouted, and the entire congregation said, “May her beauty never fade.”

“Jaysus titty-fucking christ!” Zane cried. He couldn’t escape her visage by looking at the ceiling, there was mural assembled on the tiles.

“By our order’s charter, your infractions upon the purest, kindest, most beautiful student at Andronicus are to be punished to the fullest extent we can get away with that does not compromise our existence to the school officials!” he ordained. “However, we are not blind to the fact that your transgressions were perpetrated out of ignorance to the ways of this school, so your punishment will be lessened.”

A tray came forward carrying a single item covered by a cloth. When the covering was removed, it was revealed to be an electric razor.

“Your penance shall be to bear the humiliation of a shaved head! May all who look upon your glossy dome know that this is an act of mercy, and that unknown torments await those who follow in your footsteps!”

The congregation backed him up with a collective “here, here.” When the room began to quiet down, Zane kindly informed them, “Anyone with the balls to so much as touch that razor will get it shoved right up their ass!”

No one seemed eager to step up to the task. The guy who unsheathed the implement scooted away.

“Do not be afraid, brothers!” the pope on a soap box declared. “He is bound! Unable to enact the vengeance he sacrilegiously declares!”

One of his adherents pulled him aside. “Uh, we’re all kind of nervous. Most of the guys sent to bring him here won’t be coming back for a few weeks.”

“Are you here, Desiree?” Zane asked, trying to figure out which of the cloaked figures could be a girl. “Fuck’s sake, if you wanted to be left alone, you could have just said so. You didn’t need to sic your disgusting fan club on me.”

“Ignorant fool,” the pope berated. “Desiree (may her beauty never fade) does not know you are here. She doesn’t even know we exist! An angel as pure and gracious as she should not be burdened with knowledge of all the admiration she inspires, nor the services we do for her in secret.”

Zane stifled a sudden laugh. “Wait, so she doesn’t know any of you are into her? Does she even know your names?”

“We don’t need such petty gratifications,” he indignantly insisted. “Devotion is it’s own reward.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Ignoble reprobates like you are the reason the Desiree Williams fanclub (may her beauty never fade) exists! The paragon of beauty must be protected from the vulgarities of this world!”

“Of all the people on campus to revolve a secret society around, you picked Desiree? She’s cute, sure, but Felicia rocks way better tits and is hiding an absolute dump truck of an ass.”

The pope chuckled. “Granted, there is an iota of truth in those words, however misguided; but Desiree Williams (may her beauty never fade) has the distinction of unparalleled grace and benevolence, a beauty ascendant beyond physical, while Felicia Bellafonte is a massive bitch.”

“I’ll give you that,” he shrugged.

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand the motivation driving those enraptured by transcendent beauty. No mortal man deserves to grow any closer to a goddess than another! We ensure she may exist untainted by an imperfect world! A work of living art only to be admired from afar!”

“You realize you’re tormenting her? She doesn’t have any friends or any idea how to talk to people! Bitch needs to get laid and she doesn’t even know it because you don’t let a dick get within jizzing distance!”

“Silence infidel!” he zealously shrieked over the distressed murmurs of the procession. “We will not allow you to utter profanities against our matron in her hallowed place! Submit to your punishment and repent of you sins against Desiree Williams!” The whole congregation recited their mantra.

“How about, no.” Zane fidgeted behind his back, then stood up, free of his bindings and flung the ropes in the face of the nearest fan club member. “I’m going to tell your precious goddess about this big circle jerk you hold because none of you have the guts to talk to her. I’m going to ask her out to a movie, then we’ll see how she really feels about only being ‘admired from afar.’ Hell, we might even fuck. Because we are human beings who enjoy sex!”

Horrified gasps filled the air. Someone fainted in the back of the room.

“S-Such a transgression cannot be ignored! The inquisition that brought you here will seem like child’s play!”

“Oh yeah?” Zane challenged. “And which one of you dickless simps is going to try and stop me?” Dead silence. “That’s what I thought.” He grabbed the broomstick from the pope and snapped it in half. He threw one half into the pope’s face, then used the other half to flip up another guy’s bedsheets, revealing to everyone present that he wasn’t wearing any pants. No one raised a hand to stop him. No one had the guts.

Zane pushed his way to the door, then enjoyed the heart wrenching cringe when he raised a fist as if to punch one of them. Before he stepped out, he addressed the room. “Eat a whole bag of dicks. You’ve got plenty to go around and none of them are getting any wetter.”

Every day, at 11:30 am, Desiree Williams let out from her home ec class and went to lunch. She made her own lunches, usually consisting of a tuna sandwich or similar protein rich meal with a side of either rice or corn chips, and an orange, with a snack cake for dessert and a bottle of water. If she was feeling particularly sweet, she might switch out the water for tea or juice. Today, she had a test, so she supplemented her usual meal with an ice cream cup from the cafeteria, one of favorite indulgences.

She enjoyed eating outdoors, and though she had ample time to study for her coming test, she was confident enough in the time she spent studying outside of class to spent time between classes drawing in her notebook or rereading her favorite novel. After all, it’s the little bits of enjoyment that makes hard work all the more worthwhile. Although, there were times like this when she wished she had someone to share the nice moments with. Other students sat in groups of three or four, chatting away while Desiree was accustomed to sitting by herself. Even the tables in her immediate vicinity went unoccupied. She felt like a star in the sky, one speck in a sea, yet an immeasurable distance separated them.

Then, Zane came and pulled up a chair across from her. “Hey Desiree.”

“Why Zane,” she said with lilted surprise. “We only spoke yesterday. This is unexpected, but pleasantly so–”

“Shut up and listen,” he coolly interrupted. “You have a cult.”

She blinked hard. “Excuse me?”

“A bona fide fire, brimstone, and virgins cult,” he gleefully informed. “At least thirty or forty guys, probably more, with a hard on for you and narc on for anyone who’s so much as spoken to a girl before.”

“What? No, you have to be joking.”

“Believe it, sister. You have a cult, and not even a cool one. They just follow you around and masturbate to your likeness.”

“I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous!” she said abruptly, sounding somewhat betrayed. “The people at this school are decent and respectable! You must think I’m gullible to believe something like that.”

“Trust me, I am doing you a favor,” he nonchalantly replied. “Haven’t you ever wondered why no one talks to you?”

On the other side of the courtyard, two members of Desiree’s fan club laid prone in the bushes with a pair of binoculars and one of their phone cameras on record.

“They’re too far away, I can’t hear what they’re saying!” the tall one fretfully whispered, peering through the binoculars.

“Hush! You’re going to give us away!” the short one worried.

“Look at him,” he jealously articulated. “Sitting across from our Desiree, talking to her like they’re equals. Can you believe this is his second time in just as many days?”

“Who does he think he is?”

“A dead man, that’s who!”

“I swear, if Carl and Wiggins were here, I would totally go over there and give him a piece of my mind!”

The tall one threw his arm in front of his companion. “Quiet, something’s happening!” Zane and Desiree were standing now, the latter aggressively pointing at the former. “Ooh, she does not look happy.”

“I’ve never seen her like this,” the short one muttered. “The bastard should be lashed for this.”

Whatever Zane said, Desiree splashed the remainder of her drink on him, and he left frustrated and fuming.

“Wow,” the tall one marveled.

“What an amazon,” the short one remarked.

“What a Valkyrie.”

“Our warrior princess,” they said in unison.

“Okay, he’s leaving– wait.”

Zane stopped suddenly as if someone called his name. He looked around for a moment, then his gaze landed on the bush where the two fans were hiding.

“Is he looking at us?”

“No. He can’t be.”

Zane’s scowl begged to differ. He flipped them off and left in the opposite direction, pulling out a sheaf of papers hanging from his back pocket.

The fanboys exhaled a sigh of relief.

“That was smart of him,” the short one confidently assured.

“He knew better than to come over here,” the tall one added. “Desiree’s going to her next class. If the club’s insight is correct, she has a test coming up. I hope that guy interrupting her lunch doesn’t affect her scores.”

“She’ll ace it,” the short one responded as if it wasn’t even a worry worth acknowledging. “She spends forty-five minutes every night studying, but Jamal says her light’s been on half an hour longer than usual for the past week.” He checked his phone after it buzzed. “It’s Danny. He says he won’t be able to fill his shift supervising Desiree after her classes.”

“Don’t worry about it. My last class lets out at the same time as hers, and she always stays late to thank the teacher. Plenty of time for me to catch up.”