Checkmate: Your Move

"Well, just fire him! If he doesn't understand the care that goes into making wonderful clothing, he shouldn't be a designer!"

"But we just brought him in from Paris! Not to mention that Daddy has taken a liking to him-"

"Parker, dear boy, he thought blue looked good with pink! Do you honestly think he'll be useful when he made such a blunder?"

"Well I think pink goes wonderfully with blu-"

"Gord, we don't need your insight on this matter, thank you."

A quiet sigh was uttered, but brought no attention away from the loud conversation that was filling the room. Hands held a silver comb which ran cleanly through perfectly-cut blonde hair.

Derby set the grooming instrument down on the table next to his chair as he watched the exchange between his peers. Rolling his eyes when Gord made a rather bold statement about how blue could be worn with pink if the shade was correct, the broad-shouldered teen crossed his legs neatly, trying hard not to let out a yawn.

Really, all that Derby heard when the boys and him sat down in the common room were arguments about clothing, hair, matching colors, and business. It was all very tiring, at least to him. Of course, Derby was ready and willing to take hold of his father's oil company when the time came, but was it really necessary to talk about the matter all the time? It's not like life itself depended on what the Preps did.

The blonde tapped his fingers mutely against the surface of the side table, his eyes scanning the room and trying to find something interesting. His gaze went past the coffee table around which his friends were talking, not bothering to look at the contents spread across the top of it. Though, a second later, his blue eyes returned to the wooden surface, focusing on a single object.

The camera.

Derby's heart pumped faster through his blue-blood veins as he saw the item just sitting there, in the open. Thankfully, it seemed that none of the Preps had noticed the photographic device, as it was one of many things around it, such as checks, calculators, and expensive pens.

"What do you think, Derby? Should I fire my new designer?"

The teen transferred his vision to his friends, who were looking at him and awaiting an answer. Pulling a response out of the blue, the blonde replied,

"Definitely. He has no sense for fashion."

Parker mumbled something under his breath and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning into the chair he was sitting in. Gord frowned.
"But why? Just because he thought blue-lined stripes went with a pink choker doesn't mean you should fire him. If you use cerulean blue with a hue between fuchsia and violet, then it looks fine," The brunette clarified, obviously not happy with being told he was wrong.

Derby couldn't resist a small smile. Gord was always a source of amusement; he simply couldn't keep himself from getting into trouble with the lower class. Well, it was either that, or he was gazing longingly at the Hopkins boy with hungry eyes. Derby already knew that the brown-haired Prep had taken a liking to the new student. But that was old news; he had something better than a scandal between a Prep and a newbie.

A bully and a jock.

The blonde's smile stretched into a smirk as he remembered the pictures that were contained in the camera. Two valuable photos of a certain pair caught under the docks near the beach. Derby had been watching; not just the contrasting duo, but the whole school. He liked the idea of knowing what was going on, where it was, and why. He already had rather boring information concerning Beatrice and one of the jocks. He was over the private fight between Hopkins and that boy in the pink shirt. And there was no point in being proud of the pictures he had taken showing Coach Burton buying pornographic magazines at the corner mart.

But for some reason, a relationship between Trent Northwick and Kirby Olsen was too good to resist. It was rare that Derby walked on the beach, but he had been feeling down as of late, so, from advice given to him by his father, he skimmed the shoreline with a camera, scanning the area for photo opportunities.

And damn, had he found an opportunity.

As discreetly as he could, Derby had snapped two shots of the pair and had taken off running, adrenaline pulsing through him. Looking at the camera then, on the coffee table, the head Prep realized just how much power he had. Complete control over two students at Bullworth; who could ask for more? Not to mention that the two students resided in completely different cliques, which made the whole scenario even better.

He could make either one of them do whatever he pleased. The blonde knew that Kirby was very shy, and had no intentions of revealing his darkest secrets to anyone. Trent, on the other hand, was quite bold about his sexuality, yet for some reason, the school still didn't think of him as homosexual, nor bisexual. And whether or not the school believed he was gay or otherwise, Trent didn't seem to give a care. But Derby knew his weak spot. The only thing that mattered more than his fellow bullies, and inflicting pain on other students, was Kirby.

Derby had observed the pair in Bullworth Vale, taking walks and holding hands. He had seen them at the carnival when Trent gave the jock a shimmering bracelet. Even out in the open, in front of the movie theater and chatting about things that didn't matter. They were obviously close, and that just made it even more pleasing to Derby. Ah, blackmail was a wonderful thing indeed.

Looking out among the group of his rich peers, the Prep was thankful for the photographs he had taken a few nights before. As much fun as it was to laugh at the lower class with the others and step all over the lives of the less fortunate, the blonde had been getting bored with most of the people around him. Since he rarely ever socialized with anyone other than one of the other Preps, he almost always knew what their responses would be to any of his questions or taunts. In other words, he literally knew too much.

It wasn't fun trying to toy with the minds of the Preps when he already knew what the outcome would be. He had tried messing with the nerds, but they were simply too easy to shame. Even the smallest insult would send them over the edge; he wanted a challenge. The greasers were too violent. Derby hated to admit it, but if he even thought about bothering one of the hard-eyed grease monkeys, he would have gotten his ass handed to him. After all, it wasn't like the head Prep was invincible, even as much as he would like to believe it.

Before obtaining the pictures, Derby didn't think he could associate with the bully clique, either. They were much too simple-minded and aggressive, as they would have attacked him if he so much as took a step near them. But, Derby thought then, he had evidence that one of the most violent bullies in the group was breaking the unwritten clique rules by sneaking under the noses of his friends and secretly meeting a jock.

Another thing Derby knew was that Kirby was basically stepping on egg shells; in other words, he was being extremely cautious, obviously not wanting the person who had captured him and Trent under the docks to release any personal information. Of course, the Prep wasn't just going to ruin this wonderful chance by outright pasting the pictures all over the school. No, that was much too narrow-minded. He was being given the opportunity of a life time; he was in control of two valuable marionettes, and he wasn't going to ruin that fact by bluntly throwing the photos across the whole student body. Derby was smart, he knew that there were many things he could do before he decided to completely humiliate Trent and Kirby.

Drawn out of his thoughts by the sound of a yawn, the blonde returned his attention to the other boys in the common room. Parker had stood, up stretching his arms above his head while saying in a tired voice,

"It's nearly nine thirty, chaps. If I don't get my beauty rest, I'm blaming it on you lot."

A rumble of agreement ran through the rest of the Preps as more stood up, starting to head to their respective rooms. A few 'good nights' and 'splendid dreams' were exchanged, and soon, Derby was only one of the two left in the lobby. The other was Gord, who was standing slightly in front of the blonde.

"Is there something you need?" Derby inquired, pushing himself off the comfortable chair and dusting off his sweater vest, even though there was no sign of any dirt or filth. The brunette came closer to the head Prep, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not really. I just wanted to know why you're acting so distant lately," Gord said, looking the blonde straight in the eye, unblinking. His mocha orbs pried deep into Derby's, as if asking the question mentally, as well.

"Whatever do you mean? I'm not acting any different than I normally do," The head Prep replied, the gears in his mind working hard to pump out believable lies. Of course. Derby had forgotten about that one Prep who noticed things that the others didn't. Gord. If there was a single student in Bullworth that payed attention to everything besides Derby and Gary Smith, it was the brunette standing in front of him. Derby knew that Gord made it his priority to keep track of what was going on everywhere on campus, despite his place in the Preps clique. The slim teen never let his spot in the social circle come between him and the things he wanted to do, which made him quite an annoyance, in Derby's opinion.

"Yes, you are, my friend. All you've been doing all day is mumbling things to yourself and looking around the classrooms like a lost puppy. What's the matter?" Gord asked, standing firm, obviously not going to be on his way until he got a satisfying answer. Derby sighed.

"It's nothing of your concern, so you needn't hurt yourself over worrying about me," The blonde responded, putting an edge in his voice and trying to make it obvious to the other male that he was not wanted. Gord seemed to ignore this warning, and continued his approach, soon only about a foot away from the other Prep. Derby repressed the urge to slap the hell out of the brunette; he didn't appreciate it when people stepped inside his personal bubble, and that bubble was fairly large.

"...Are you completely sure? I just don't want you to get worked up about something that doesn't matter. You know how you get," Gord said, raising an eyebrow, inviting Derby to spill whatever information he had as to why he was acting so out of the ordinary. The blond's eyes flew to the camera on the table, for only a fraction of a second, but returned to attention as he replied,

"Yes. I'm certain that nothing is amiss. Now get on your way before I have to lock you outside again," Derby's threat was anything but fake; according to the cerulean-eyed teen, any time that Gord started acting more like a worried, pathetic peasant, the more time he spent in the cold, cursing and trying to find a way back inside the house. It was a fitting punishment for someone who associated with scum like the greasers, he believed.

Gord's stature stiffened visibly as he turned and looked out one of the large windows in the lobby, as if measuring how much trouble it would be to defeat the lock system so that he could get to sleep. The brunette swallowed hard and said,

"Well...fine, I believe you. But I certainly hope that you'll be alright tomorrow. Good evening," Gord took one last look at Derby, his eyes filled with suspicion. The Prep obviously didn't want to leave without a good answer, but tiredness was setting in, causing him to ignore his instinctive questioning. Gord headed on his way to his room, which was located at the very end of the west wing hall.

Derby let out a breath of relief when the other male was out of sight. Honestly, the blonde thought, did everything have to interfere with his fun? It seemed that he couldn't do anything he wanted to without being followed by a group of obedient Preps.

As much as Derby respected his peer group, and as much as he appreciated the things they did for him, he simply was exhausted with the others' taunting antics and rude behavior. Towards each other, the Preppies were courteous and civil, chatting together and laughing at things they found amusing. But when a lower class students so much as batted an eyelid in the presence of the Aquaberry-fitted teens, they were subjected to a wave of hurtful insults and cruelty. Now, keep in mind, Derby didn't really have a problem with humiliating random students in front of their friends, but it was the principle of the thing. He knew that if the Preppies had the knowledge of him and his prized photos, they would completely take advantage of them and try to spam the school with said evidence. Even if they were his so-called 'friends'. And that was just plain irritating.

Mumbling curses to himself, Derby walked up to the coffee table in the middle of the lobby and picked up the camera, turning it in his grasp a few times, wondering about the pictures. It wasn't like he knew exactly what he was going to do with them; he couldn't know everything that was going to happen, after all. But he had somewhat of an idea forming in his head.

What was most important to Kirby was his reputation, and what was most important to Trent was Kirby, along with the students he bullied. So, logically, all he had to do was mess with those precious things. Which meant screwing up the life of the small jock as much as he could without drawing too much attention. In other words, play around with Kirby, then go from there.

The most important question, was of course...

How was he going to 'play'?

A/N: Yup. A whole chapter centered around Derby. Didn't think it could be done. Thanks for readings, puppies!