Unlikely Heroes
It was now gym class, and Red was once again with her clique. Chloe didn’t particularly like most of Red’s friends—except for Hatter. Hatter was a mad one, but he was also the reason Red had joined the art club in the first place.
At first, Red had been hesitant to join, despite her passion for art that had been with her since she could hold a pen. But Hatter, her old friend, had made it his personal mission to get her to join. That mission had ultimately led to Red and Chloe’s first meeting.
Chloe was an overachiever—good at nearly everything she did—and that fact alone had sparked Red’s 'deep-rooted rivalry' with her. It was only made worse when their art professor constantly praised Chloe’s work. The final straw had been when Chloe won the award for her sketchbook.
Objectively, Red’s work was better. But the Queen of Hearts had never been particularly favoured in Auradon—or anywhere, really. That said, Chloe did have some right to the award. While her art wasn’t as striking as Red’s, she was far better at writing about it, excelling in the theory aspect of their assignments. Red, on the other hand, was the worst at theory, but second only to Chloe in practical sketches. So naturally, Chloe had won, being the best at theory and excelling in all areas.
Still, Red had taken it personally. To her, it felt unfair, and from that day on, she had made it her mission to torment Chloe. But clearly, that plan had failed miserably in the present day.
Chloe was pulled from her thoughts when she suddenly realized she was the only one left in the locker room—with Red.
Red smirked, leaning casually against the lockers. “What are you waiting for? It’s your favourite gym subject—fencing, nerd.”
She might have sounded confident, but her gaze told a different story. Her eyes flickered up and down, lingering on Chloe, who stood there in nothing but her tight leggings and a sports bra.
For a moment, whatever smug remark Red had just thrown out felt entirely irrelevant.
Chloe, completely unfazed, smirked back. “How sweet of you to wait for me, Rose.”
Before Red could respond, Ella’s voice rang through the locker room. “Coach is waiting for you two,” she called, crossing her arms. Then, with a tired sigh, she added, “Red, aren’t you tired of all this bickering?”
Red turned to her with an easy grin. “Never, Smurf.”
Finally, Chloe was seated, carefully finishing her flower collage—one dedicated to a certain Rose who had just stepped into the room, looking absolutely exhausted. All that social interaction had drained her. As much as Red loved Tourney, she thought it was excessive to have practice on the same day as gym. But it was still better than being scolded by her coach, a vigilant old grump.
With a heavy sigh, Red plopped down her duffle bag and immediately got to work on her sculpture, slipping into utter bliss after all that physical exhaustion. Maybe Chloe was right—maybe she did have low stamina.
Breaking the comfortable silence, Chloe smirked. “This is quite like our first date, isn’t it?”
Red didn’t even look up as she muttered, “Yeah, after you nearly punched me at that party.”
Chloe laughed. “Well, look where we are now. I’d say it worked out pretty well.”
Red finally glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I guess it did.”
Flashback
It was another one of Dizzy’s infamous parties—her way of throwing together the rebellious teen spirit of Auradon’s misfits into one chaotic, booze-filled night. The scent of cheap alcohol and mischief filled the air, but Chloe barely noticed.
Because the moment she stepped into the room, her eyes locked onto her.
Red.
That damn red-haired girl who always had a fuse lit whenever Chloe was around, as if she was obsessed with making her life a little harder. Honestly, Chloe thought it was kind of cute.
Until Spin the Bottle started.
Bridget and Ella, determined to get Chloe to participate, dragged her into yet another pit of prepubescent alcoholics blowing off midterm stress. She never understood the excitement of drinking, but she played along—until the bottle landed on Adolf Gustav’s son.
The kiss was quick, a meaningless peck, but it was enough. Enough to confirm something Chloe had been suspecting for a while now. She wasn’t bi—no, that brief, disgusting moment had solidified it. She was absolutely, undeniably into women.
Adolf’s mouth tasted of dry, bitter rum, and the moment it was over, Chloe made a face at Bridget and Ella, gagging in pure revulsion. But the worst part? His twin brother, Karl, had the audacity to whistle and clap, fuelling the attention on them.
Then, in front of everyone, Adolf smirked and said, “We should try this again… maybe later at my house?”
Chloe was gobsmacked. She had thought her look of utter disgust was enough of an answer, but apparently not.
Before she could respond, Bridget and Ella—seeing the absolute horror on her face—jumped in for her. Ella, always the more no-nonsense one, spoke first. “Sorry, we have a curfew to uphold.”
Adolf just shrugged. “Fine. I still want your number, though. You’ve charmed me.”
The room broke into whistles and jeers. Chloe wanted to die.
Minutes later, she found herself cornered by both Adolf and Karl. Bridget and Ella were on the dance floor, too caught up in the music to notice her predicament.
“Like I said,” Adolf grinned, his breath reeking of rum, “charming. Now, give me that number.”
“No,” Chloe said flatly.
“Come on,” Karl chimed in, “don’t play hard to get.”
“No.”
Adolf slung a lazy, unwelcome arm around her shoulders.
Chloe nearly retched.
“I don’t bite,” he purred, his grip tightening slightly.
That was it.
Chloe was this close to launching a fist straight into his arrogant face—
But before she could move, someone stepped between them.
Red.
She placed a single finger to Chloe’s lips, shushing her. Chloe, stunned, could only watch as Red turned to Adolf with an almost bored expression—then swiftly kicked him in the groin.
Adolf howled, doubling over in pain.
Karl, enraged, moved to retaliate, but Red was faster. She twisted his arm behind his back, making him yelp.
“Hey, Ace!” Red called out.
Across the room, Ace—one of the tallest, most intimidating figures in Auradon—was busy hauling a completely wasted Hatter onto a chair. He turned at the sound of his name.
Red jerked her chin toward the twins. “Think it’s time for the Gustav boys to leave.”
Ace smirked. “Yeah. I’d say so.”
Without hesitation, he grabbed both Adolf and Karl, dragging them toward the door before literally kicking them out.
Dizzy caught wind of what happened and immediately ran to tell Bridget and Ella. Within moments, Chloe’s best friends were at her side, fussing over her.
But Chloe barely registered them.
Instead, she turned to Red, meeting her gaze with something unreadable in her expression.
And then, in a quiet moment, she whispered, “Thank you, Rose.”
Before Red could react, Chloe leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek—so quick, so subtle, that no one else noticed.
Red didn’t say anything. She just smirked, slipping a small note into Chloe’s hand before lighting a cigarette and walking away.
And just like that, she was gone.
Here’s a cleaned-up and more structured version of your scene:
Chloe was finally in the bathroom, emptying her pockets when her fingers brushed against something crumpled and familiar.
The note.
Or rather, the napkin—one that had been hastily handed to her by her that night. The ink was smudged terribly, but she could still make out the words:
By the time you’re reading this, I’m assuming I helped you out. I know we don’t get along that well, but if you’re ever in trouble like that again, you can always call me for help, princess.
Chloe squealed.
A full-on, high-pitched, embarrassingly giddy squeal—the kind she hadn't made since she was a little girl hearing the story of how her father, Prince Charming, had found her mother, Cinderella, with a perfect-fitting glass slipper.
Outside, her best friends definitely heard.
Ella banged on the bathroom door. “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, CHLOE? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”
Bridget, calmer but still concerned, interrupted. “Is this about the Gustav boys?”
Chloe quickly stuffed the napkin away. “No! Sorry, guys.” She opened the door, trying to play it cool. “I was just… thinking about how disgusted I was, that’s all.”
Both girls sighed in relief. Bridget pulled Chloe into a hug, stroking her back. “Sorry we weren’t there for you.”
“Yeah,” Ella agreed. “We should’ve let you bring your fencing sword.”
Chloe laughed. “It’s fine. I was about to punch him before Red got to it first.”
Ella blinked. “Yeah, that was weird. I mean, you’ve been complaining about her from art club since the dawn of time.”
Chloe hesitated. "Yeah. But I think this was just a one-time thing.”
She hoped it wasn't just a one-time thing.
Bridget gave her a knowing look but didn’t press. “Well, we’ll let you get back to… whatever you were doing.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Chloe mumbled.
This was definitely not the end of Chloe and Red.
And it wasn’t.
Chloe slowly woke up, blinking her eyes open. For a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was, but the familiar surroundings of Red's dorm quickly came back to her. Red was sitting at her desk, focused on some late-night homework. The soft light from her desk lamp bathed the room in a warm glow.
Chloe’s gaze drifted to Red, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt at peace. The quiet hum of the room, the soft sound of Red’s pen scratching against paper—it all had a calming effect on Chloe. It was a comfort she didn’t realize she needed until now.
Without thinking, Chloe pulled the covers back over herself, letting the warmth wash over her. She didn’t need to speak, didn’t need to do anything. She just allowed herself to enjoy the calm moment, feeling safe and content.
Before she knew it, sleep started to take over again. And as she drifted back off, Chloe realized, for the first time in a while, she had found her place of rest.