Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

February 2025
TW DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE HOMOPHOBIC, RACIST, TRANSPHOBIC, SEXIST.
TW SUICIDE, SH, ALCOHOL, DRUGS, HATE, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS, SA, RAPE, VIOLENCE, ABUSIVE PARENTS, PILLS

Chapter 1: Party
Matteo
The wind cut through the thin walls of the building like it always did. Cold wasn’t new to Matteo—it was permanent—but this morning it felt sharper, meaner. He lay still in his bed, brown hair messy against the pillow, teeth chattering despite the blanket pulled up to his chin.
Ugh. My head.

The thought came before he even opened his eyes. A dull pressure sat behind his forehead, pulsing in time with his heartbeat, like someone had wrapped wire around his skull and kept tightening it. He groaned softly and blinked his blue eyes open.

The ceiling stared back at him. Mold bloomed across it in ugly dark patches, creeping outward like it was alive. It looked worse than usual today—lower somehow, heavier. Everything in this place always looked more depressing when he was sober.

He reached for his phone, fingers stiff from the cold, and squinted at the screen. Notifications flooded it.

Nine messages from Emily.

He rolled his eyes.

Then he saw it.

One message from Alex.
One from Alex.

His stomach twisted immediately, nerves sparking awake as if someone had dumped ice water straight into his veins. He sat up too fast, the room spinning for half a second, and tapped the notification before he could overthink it.

Hey, are you going to the party tonight?"

Matteo snorted quietly.
Was he going to the party tonight? What kind of question was that?

Parties were his thing. Parties were easy. Loud music, flashing lights, bodies pressed too close together, everyone drunk and stupid and careless. That was when they bought too much. Pills passed hands under the table, small bags disappeared into pockets, money folded and unfolded again like it was nothing. Matteo lived for that sweet spot between chaos and control.

He knew how it worked. Get them laughing first. Get them drinking. Make it feel casual—like he wasn’t selling anything at all. By the time they realized what they’d agreed to, it was already in their hands

He typed his reply quickly, thumbs moving on autopilot, then shoved the phone back onto the mattress and stood up. Cold air bit into his bare skin.
Right. Pajamas. Again.

He looked down at himself—just boxers, ribs faintly visible when he stretched his arms over his head. He never remembered pajamas. Never really cared. It wasn’t like anyone was here to judge him.

He dug through his bag, swallowed a couple of pain pills dry, then grabbed a half-empty bottle of water from the floor. The label was peeling, and he knew it had

been there for days—maybe longer—but he drank it anyway.

Outside, his motorcycle waited, parked far too close to the building. Beautiful. Definitely not stolen. The metal was cold when he touched it, grounding him a little. This building—this moldy, broken piece of shit—was technically his home. He hated it. Still, it beat sleeping on a bench.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and kicked the bike to life.
Destination: the gang’s place.

There, he could shower. There, he could pretend his life was almost normal—eat something (sometime), do homework, act like a student instead of a walking bad

decision. Same routine as always. Wake up here. Escape. Come back only when it was too late to be anywhere else.

At least tonight, there’d be a party.

And at least tonight, Alex would be there.

 

Ahmed
Take down all the mirrors in my house, I hate my nose, eyes, and my m—"

Ahmed groaned and slapped his phone, cutting the song off mid-lyric. The silence felt heavier than the music had. He lay there for a second, staring at nothing, then pushed himself upright.

The boy looked up, his eyes holding the same dead expression he had inherited from his dad. No matter how tired he was, no matter how long he stared, it never really changed. He stood up and pulled on a shirt—a plain white one, typical for him. Something neutral. Something that didn’t draw attention.
He left his room and walked into the kitchen.

His mom, a tired-looking Turkish woman, was slipping on her jacket, ready to leave for work.

“Oh Ahmed, dear, I’m happy I saw you before I left! Have fun at your friend’s house!” She kissed his cheek while opening the front door. “Oh, and don’t forget to take care of Miriah,” she added hurriedly.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her,” Ahmed replied, half asleep.

He stood there like a sack of potatoes. Then it hit him—the party. He was going to a party today with Leo. Before that, they were supposed to go with Leo to the skatepark, even though neither of them could skate.
He walked over to his sister. “Hey Miriah, did you have breakfast yet?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, I did! Baran made it already,” the girl with ponytails and crooked teeth said.

“Indeed I did,” a low, loud voice said.

Ahmed looked at his brother, Baran, whose face was filthy, like it hadn’t been washed in years, covered in stubble. What’s he up to now? He’s never up this early…
“I’m gonna go get ready, okay?” Ahmed said, just so Baran wouldn’t come into the bathroom.

Baran looked surprised. “Ooh, big Ahmedie got plans?”

“Uh, just hanging out with a friend…” Ahmed muttered, embarrassed and annoyed.

“Who?” Baran asked, his tone aggressive.

“Just Leo…” Ahmed said, already knowing what was coming.

“Pff, why are you hanging out with that nerdy loser? Don’t you have more normal friends than that gay dude?” Baran sneered.
“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know him, and he has a girlfriend,” Ahmed snapped.
“Alright, if you say so. But if he tries to hit on you, I won’t hesitate to beat him to shreds,” the twenty-year-old said.

Fuck. I hate him so much. I hate everything.

“Well, I’m off. I won’t be back till morning. Have fun at your teenage party.”

Ahmed looked up from his toast. “Huh? What? You’re supposed to take care of Miriah!”

“Bye, princess. Bye, Miriah,” Baran said with a smirk before leaving.

Fuck. Asshole. I can’t take care of her today.

“Ahmed…” Miriah said softly.
“Yes, Mir? What is it?” He was already irritated from yesterday, and now this.

“You don’t have to take care of me. I’ll be okay on my own, really.”

Ahmed took his toast out of the toaster and sat beside her.

“I can’t just leave you here alone. What if something happens?” He knew his mom would kill him if anything happened to Miriah.

“I’ll be at a friend’s house today,” Miriah said, smiling.

“Wait, really? That’s great. But when are you coming home? You’ll need the key—”

“I’m sleeping there,” she interrupted.

Ahmed looked surprised—and secretly relieved. “Oh, that’s great, Miriah. Do you want me to drive you to her house?”

“No, it’s okay. They’re picking me up in two hours.”

Ahmed nodded, took a bite of his toast, and pulled out his phone.

 

Nicole
“NICOLE, FOOD’S READY!” her mother yelled.

Nicole rushed down the stairs, bracelets clanging together like a tiny storm. Her multicolored curls bounced wildly, a mess of reds, blues, and golds that refused to obey gravity. Pajamas clung to her legs and arms, soft and warm, but she barely noticed. Mornings were always a battle, and her bedroom was far too far away from the kitchen for comfort.

“Good morning, Nicole!” her mother called again, smiling like she’d slept well even though the bags under her eyes said otherwise. Short curls framed her face, and her pink dress swayed as she moved. Nicole had never understood how her mother always looked like she had somewhere important to be.
“Morning…” Nicole muttered, dropping into a chair and rubbing at her eyes.

“Well, aren’t you excited about the party tonight?” her mom asked, voice a little too high, too cheerful.
Nicole shrugged, but a small grin tugged at her lips. Excited? Yeah. But also tired. Always tired. “Of course I am, Mom. I’m just tired from school.”
“And you know the rules: no drugs—”

Ugh. Great. Already starting.
“—and no alcohol—”

Yep. Super.

“—AND NO BOYS!”

Nicole’s eyes went wide for a second, just a beat, before she rolled them so hard it hurt. Trust me, Mom. That one’s really easy.

“Nicole, do you understand?” her mother asked, sharper now, almost like a whip.

“Yes, Mom. I’ll go play on my drums for a bit.”

Upstairs, she went into the bathroom, where a guy with deads was peeing with no shame. She quickly closed the door in disgust.

“HEY, CAN’T YOU KNOCK?” her brother yelled from behind the door.

“Why don’t you just lock it, braindead?” Nicole snapped, tossing her towel over the sink.

“To assert dominance,” he said with a smirk.

Nicole huffed, brushing her teeth with more force than necessary, water splashing onto the counter. Today was a good day. A loud day. A day to be around her bandmates.

Tonight would be perfect. Her outfit was ready: a plain shirt waiting to be drawn on, ripped panties under a skirt, belts layered until they looked chaotic yet intentional.
This party was going to rock.

 

Emma

A girl with short, spiky black hair sang loudly to herself while brushing it, voice bouncing off the walls of her room. I can’t wait for my parents to leave. Finally. Freedom.

Flared jeans hung loosely around her legs, and the ’90s jacket stolen from her mom sat comfortably on her shoulders, the fabric slightly stiff from being worn too much. Emma twirled the brush in her hand and laughed at her reflection. Emma fitted the beauty standerd quite well and was peoud of her appearence.

“EMMA!!!!!”

“Yesss?”

“WE’RE LEAVING. AREN’T YOU GOING TO SAY BYE?”

Emma jogged to the front door, shoes barely on, her bag slung over one shoulder. Her parents were dressed in ridiculously expensive clothes, shoes shiny enough to reflect the morning sun. She kissed her dad quickly. “Have fun at the wedding, Mom and Dad,” she said, trying to sound polite but breezy.
“Only one friend can come, you hear me, Emma?” her mother warned, voice tight.

“Yes, Mom, don’t worry. Only Chloe is coming.”

“Okay, we’re leaving now. Don’t forget to clean the kitchen.”
“Bye, princess,” her father added.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Emma paused. The house was suddenly hers. Silence, except for the faint hum of the fridge. YES. FREEDOM. WHOO WHOO!

She flung her bag onto the couch, grabbed her phone, and opened the group chat. Fingers flying, she scrolled through messages, checking who was ready, who was bringing what, and who would be there first. She laughed at something Caitlin had written and typed back, eyes shining with excitement.
The mirror reflected her grin. Her hair still spiked perfectly despite brushing, her black jacket slipping off one shoulder like it didn’t care. She felt light. She felt ready.

Tonight wasn’t just a party—it was an escape, a statement, a chance to see her friends and be herself, messy hair, loud laughter, and all.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 Jeah

Matteo

Matteo was riding his motorcycle through the not-so-crowded town. He was wearing a helmet he’d stolen along with the bike—it matched. The owner was probably

rich anyway, so he didn’t really feel bad. He wore long, slightly baggy jeans and an Adidas jacket.

The building wasn’t far from the gang. Well, it wasn’t really a gang, was it? Gangs had scary men with knives and guns. Matteo wasn’t like that; he just knew how to
sell drugs and make money.

The place was never crowded either—just him, Jaeh, Liam, Rune, Xavi, and Elian when he was still around. Fuck, how Matteo missed Elian. Everything felt emptier, colder, and more boring without him.

Matteo reached the street where the gang stayed. He parked his motorcycle next to the alley. He wasn’t allowed to park there—he knew that—but he didn’t care. He
walked into the dark alley, which smelled like people had been murdered there.

The boy with a big scar on his pale skin walked further and knocked three times on the first door.

“Huh? Mat, is that you?” a feminine voice asked.

It was Jaeh—a gorgeous Asian girl with a pink wolf-tail mullet and terrible bangs that somehow looked good on her.

“Yeah, Jaeh, it’s just me. Is Liam here?”

“Nope. He got really drunk last night, so he’ll be out for at least another five hours,” Jaeh said while opening the door.

Matteo smiled at her and went straight to the bathroom.

There wasn’t even running water in his own building, so how was he supposed to shower there? This was his normal routine: wake up in the building, drive to the gang’s place, shower, sometimes eat, meet clients, go to school, return to the gang, and when it was super late, go back to the building.

Matteo splashed water on his face and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes. He leaned closer, inspecting his scar. It was almost healed. Luckily, you couldn’t read what it used to say anymore. Thank God for that.

feel good tum te tur utu tu

His phone rang. Emily—a white girl with a messy bun, like always—was calling. Jesus, he did not want to answer. But he didn’t really have a choice because of the bet.

“Hey Em, sorry I didn’t answer your texts. I was sleeping.”

“Ohhh, well that explains it, haha. Are you going to the party tonight?”

“Only if you are,” Matteo replied, trying to flirt.

“Hihihi, oh stop it, Mat! But yes, I am. Wanna go together…?”

He did not want that. He needed a good excuse.

“Emily, I really would love to, but I already promised my boys we’d go together, you know… And besides, don’t you have a boyfriend to go with?”

“Alex is invited? He didn’t tell me… I–if I knew, I would’ve asked him, Mat, I swear!” She started stuttering, sounding defensive.

“Hey, it’s okay, Em. Thanks for asking me. Too bad I promised those fuckers. I’d much rather go with you.”

He felt weirdly proud after pulling that one off.

After about five minutes of awkward small talk, he lied about having to eat breakfast and hung up.

He went to the messy kitchen and grabbed a knife from a drawer. Jaeh looked up from her phone.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked, surprised.

“Self-protection. I’ve never had these guys before.”

She stared at him blankly. “Don’t worry, Matt. I’ve sold to them once. They’re too stupid to do shit.”

Jaeh watched him with her beautiful green eyes as he grabbed his backpack. She could’ve easily been a model, yet she was stuck there—in a dirty, dangerous, cramped room where people got murdered. Bad luck, I guess.

Matteo slung the bag over his shoulder, waved goodbye, and left.

 

Nicole

Nicole had always been different from the other kids. She wasn’t into girly stuff, wasn’t obsessed with boys, and had strange interests. She dressed differently and played different games than the rest.

Luckily, she always had at least one good friend. That helped a lot when others were cruel. Her family didn’t really care about her looks, though they wanted her to stay feminine and get good grades.

Her family was very supportive of her scene life. Politics, however, were something she never dared to talk about at home.

“They’re stupid MAGA makes me sick,” she once told Vicky, which made her laugh.

Vicky was now her best friend. She was pretty, with green eyes and long ginger hair with bangs, and had freckles all over her body. Yet her body was the thing she hated most. She felt trapped—trapped in a man’s body, convinced no one would ever love her. At least, that’s what she told herself.

Nicole and Vicky were extremely close, and they’d even joined a band together. The band was called Teenage Dirtbags. Nicole played the drums, Vicky was the bassist.

Alex played electric guitar, Sam was the singer (though he could also drum), and last but not least there was Noah. He… well, let’s just say he was there.

The whole band was going to be at the party too—though Nicole doubted Noah had actually been invited.

 

Ahmed

He was meeting Leo at the skatepark in an hour. Until then, he scrolled through TikTok or listened to music.

Meeting Leo was one of the few things Ahmed genuinely enjoyed, even though it had become more awkward since the worst day of his life—the day he got so high he
gave in to the thoughts. The worst part was that Leo was never angry or disgusted.

Could Leo maybe not be straight?

No.
Ahmed shut that thought down. Leo always had a girlfriend or some hopeless crush on a random girl. Besides, Ahmed would know. They’d been friends for years.
Every time Ahmed thought back to that moment, he wanted to rip his head off.

Leo should be angry.
Leo should tell the whole school and bully him.
Leo should stop being his friend.

After about an hour, they met up.
“AHMED, HEYYYY!” the blond boy with big glasses yelled.

“Leo, be quiet. The whole neighborhood can hear you,” Ahmed replied with his usual blank expression.

There were about three other people at the skatepark: two skaters and one junkie. The boys sat down on a skate ramp while Leo rambled about how much he wasn’t looking forward to the party, especially since his girlfriend—now ex-girlfriend—had just broken up with him.

Ahmed listened, like always. They shared a bag of chips and drank energy drinks while talking. For Ahmed, moments like these meant everything.

“AHMED! LEO!” someone yelled loudly.

It was Tigi—a person with extremely short dark brown hair, so short you couldn’t even tell it was curly. They wore a light pink skirt with knee-high socks and had a large birthmark around one eye. To be honest, Ahmed felt embarrassed knowing them.

“Hey Tigi! What are you doing here, bud?” Leo asked excitedly.

Leo was so nice, Ahmed thought. Way nicer than him—and much more social.

Ahmed noticed the two skaters staring at Tigi. He understood why. They looked weird, and they were even weirder once you got to know them.

“Leo, didn’t we need to go…?” Ahmed said quietly.

“Huh? Oh yeah, right! Bye Tigi, nice seeing you! Have fun at Comic Con!” Leo said, waving.

Tigi and Ahmed used to be close—before Tigi changed their appearance and clothing. Ahmed tried not to care, but he couldn’t help it.

“You don’t like them, do you?” Leo asked with a smirk. His face was covered in freckles, and his blue eyes were bright.

“I don’t know. They’ve changed,” Ahmed muttered, avoiding eye contact.

“I think it fits them,” Leo said, looking away again.

How could Leo be so accepting?

“Are they going to the party tonight?” Ahmed asked.

“Nope, Comic Con,” Leo replied.

“A what now?” Ahmed said, confused.

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

Emma

Caitlin was the first to arrive. She had long brown hair with bangs.

“Hey Em!” she said while giving her a hug.

“Haihai, brought makeup?” Emma asked while eyeing the bag Caitlin carried.

“Yeah, of course. We’re going all out tonight!” Caitlin replied enthusiastically.

After Caitlin, Chloe and Pari arrived at the house with alcohol.

Chloe was a dirty-blonde white girl, pale-skinned, with an effortless, careless way of dressing that made it obvious she didn’t try very hard—and didn’t need to.

Pari was a Muslim girl with warm brown skin and dark eyes, wearing a deep purple hijab wrapped neatly around her head.

Then Alex arrived on his bike. Emma happily opened the door.

“Heyyy Alex! So happy you made it!” Emma said.

“Yeah, I only got lost four times, but I did make it,” the guy with very tanned skin replied.

Emma always thought Alex looked really cool. He had black hair with dark red in the front, around seven piercings in his ears and eyebrows, and sometimes even wore
black eyeliner. She was really happy they were such close friends.

“Did you manage to get it?” Emma asked.

“I did!” Alex answered proudly, pulling out a piercing kit.

“Yesss, thank you so much—come in!”

Pari was already drinking heavily with Caitlin when Alex entered the living room.

“Ohhh, heyyyyyy,” Pari said, stumbling toward him.

“Uh, hi? Do you also want a piercing?” Alex asked, clearly aware she was already drunk.

“Me? Hmmm… well, I’ve always wanted a belly button piercing,” Pari said, pressing a finger to her lips as she thought.

“I’ve heard those don’t hurt that much,” Alex replied gently.

After an hour of talking, Pari throwing up, and eating chips, Alex finally pulled out the needle and piercing kit. They decided Chloe should start since she only wanted
a helix in her ear.

Alex had done all his own piercings at fourteen—during what he’d called a really bad sad-music phase. Back then, he’d only had a needle and a lighter.

Luckily, Chloe hadn’t been drinking, so hers went smoothly. Next, Alex gave Emma snake bites. It… happened.

“It hurts like hell,” Emma muttered. Feeling guilty, Alex gave himself cyber bites too.

“Ow, ow, ow,” they both repeated while Chloe laughed her ass off. Emma thought that moment was really nice.

Pari eventually returned from the bathroom, far less drunk. She apologized, and everyone forgave her quickly. She even got her belly button piercing after all.

Emma knew Alex was short on money, so she paid him what a professional piercer would charge—but he insisted on taking only half.

“Only one hour left!” Caitlin yelled from the bathroom while doing her mascara. Alex was texting someone, Pari was drinking water like there was no tomorrow, and
Emma admired her new piercings.

“Hmmm… who should I go for at the party?” Emma said.

“Weren’t you and Martin kind of a thing?” Pari asked.

“That dimwit needed his ego crushed anyway,” Caitlin added.

“Hey Alex, is Matteo single?” Emma asked.

Alex’s expression shifted immediately—he was terrible at hiding his feelings.

“Uh… yeah, I think so. I’m not totally sure.”

“What about you? Did you finally break up with Emily?”

“I told you—it’s not that simple. Didn’t I show you the messages?”

Emma noticed the sadness on his face and sat next to him.

“Right… I’m sorry, Alex. I just really think she’s lying. And she shouldn’t threaten to kill herself over a breakup.”
Chloe, Pari, and Caitlin all gasped.

“What the fuck?” Caitlin said.

“SHIT, I’M SORRY, ALEX,” Emma blurted.

Alex covered his face and sighed. “It’s okay, Em. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not a big deal? Jesus, she’s a bitch. How dare she drop an emotional bomb on you,” Pari snapped.

“Yeah, that’s really not okay,” Chloe added.

“It’s fine,” Alex said quietly. “I just need to wait until she breaks up with me.”

Emma felt a deep wave of compassion for him. She knew Emily.
Maybe she could do something.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 zeven minutes in heaven

 

Matteo

The customer was nothing out of the ordinary. A person who looked half dead and really shouldn’t be spending their money on drugs like that. But Matteo preferred them like that. Groups were the worst, Matteo thought. His favorites, though, were when he got people to buy at parties. It was easy, and they always splurged when drunk.

This party would be no different. Except maybe he had to make Emily fall in love with him. So far, it was going pretty well, at least he thought so. He was doing it for Alex. He had promised him it would work.

He went to pick up his nicer clothes from the laundromat. Only half an hour left to think about how and who. On the way back to the gangroom, Liam was there.

He wasn’t alone. He had brought a rather pretty girl who was definitely high and drunk. Liam was a 23-year-old with buzzed hair. His skin was pale, and his ear was almost gone. He had a couple of piercings in his ears and eyebrows. He was tall, muscular, and a horrible person. Matteo tried to pass him without being seen but got
unlucky.

Liam: Oh hey, pretty boy, what ya up to?

Matteo wasn’t stressed or uncomfortable, just surprised. But not really—Liam did have huge mood swings.

Matteo: I’m going to a party, so I need a big stash.

Liam: Without me?

Liam acted like he was crying and then started laughing. God, he was drunk.

Matteo: It’s almost starting, so I’ll probably not come back tonight.

Liam: It’s okay, Mattie, I have this whore to keep me entertained.

Pfff, Liam used them like jesters, Matteo thought. He grabbed the bag and sprayed a lot of perfume while heading out. Yeah, luckily he left, he thought. She probably
isn’t at the party anyway—she’s years older than him.

He parked his motorcycle right outside the big house where the party was happening. He gave his best smile and went inside.

 

Nicole

Nicole was standing near the house. She wore a different shirt than the one she had been painting, since the paint wasn’t dry yet. The shirt was pink with a skull and a bow on it. It matched her long socks. She was waiting for Vicky.

Vicky arrived only two minutes later and saw Nicole. When Nicole saw how gorgeous Vicky looked, she couldn’t help but smile. Vicky had done her makeup perfectly; the mascara accentuated her green eyes. She wore a purple blouse with very cool baggy jeans.

Nicole: Omg, you look amazing!!!

Vicky: Oh please, shut up! I’m wearing the most basic thing ever!

Nicole: Maybe, but it’s so pretty because it fits you.

Vicky blushed slightly at the compliment, and they decided to go inside. They were a bit late, but better late than early.
The house was already chaotic. There were at least a hundred people. Luckily, the owners had removed all the furniture and made a big dance floor. The music sucked,
but who cared?

They saw Sam and his friends and went over to talk to him. Sam had green liberty spikes and was quite tall. He was great friends with Vicky, and Nicole was 99% sure they had a crush on each other. He wore a top with a random band from the ’80s. Spikes everywhere.

He was a great singer, though, Nicole couldn’t deny that.

They talked to him for quite a while. Everything was going really well.

was

 

Ahmed

“Hate these damn clothes,” Ahmed muttered.

“Haha, you just need to get used to it, med,” Leo said laughing.

Ahmed wore a white blouse and blue jeans. Leo wore something similar, except he had a cute little bowtie. Ahmed couldn’t resist sneaking his jacket in, as always, the same one he had in at least three colors. It was a black Adidas zip-up with a high collar, white zipper, and the Adidas logo on the chest. It also featured the signature
three white stripes on the shoulder.

At the party, Leo was mostly socializing while Ahmed just stood around initially. Then they saw Martin, a tall, handsome guy with short, fluffy dark brown hair. Martin was part of their friend group at school. They had a tight group of four: him, Leo, Martin, and the recently added Alex. Before Alex, it had been a different guy named Elian. Ahmed didn’t want to think about him right now.

Ahmed: Yo Martin, what’s up?

Martin: Just got here, dude. What about you guys?

Leo: Great! Have you seen Alex?

Martin: I think I saw him with Matteo.

Ahmed noticed Leo giving a dirty look. He knew Leo didn’t like Matteo, but he never knew why. Maybe because Matteo had gotten him and Alex into the drug business? Probably.

The night went pretty chill. Ahmed, Leo, Martin, and Alex were quite popular.
Everyone was asking for numbers or wanted to talk. Martin kept staring at Emma, who was drunk and flirting with everyone. His anger was quite amusing. Ahmed couldn’t understand how Martin was so obsessed with a girl. He treated her like garbage,

so it was good she left him—but Martin didn’t seem to realize that. Not that Ahmed cared.

Martin: Guys, they’re playing 7 minutes in heaven. Let’s join—maybe we’ll get some.

Ahmed: Ain’t no way I’m doing that.

Leo: I’m down.

A huge wave of anger and stress hit him. Was it FOMO? It had to be, he thought. He knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it sober, so he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and downed it.

Leo: Jezus Ahmed, calm down, man!

Leo took the bottle and said: “That’ll be enough for this game. Are you stressed you might get paired with your crush or something?”

Leo’s nonchalant tone made Ahmed hand over the bottle and go to the room where they were playing. He felt a bit tipsy. Around 34 people sat in a circle.

Drunk guy: And there, new people joining, hoeezaa!

A girl with dark skin and a straight wig was spinning. Ahmed hoped it wouldn’t land on him; she wasn’t his type.

It landed on Leo.

Leo: Hehe, jackpot.

He winked at Martin and Ahmed while entering the closet.

Ahmed didn’t feel well, maybe from the alcohol.

There were two closets, so the spinning continued.

He wasn’t focused on the game but more on Leo and the girl.

Martin: THIS IS RIDICULOUS. It’s only boy-girl or girl-boy, the fuck?

Ahmed snapped out of his daydream and saw Martin going crazy at the drunk guy leading the game. Apparently, two boys and two girls could go in the closet too.

This wasn’t part of Ahmed’s plan. He wanted to leave—leave the game and the party.

At that moment, Leo and the girl finished their 7 minutes. They opened the closet, and Leo was making out with her.

Ahmed felt all kinds of emotions. Must be normal, he thought.

Maybe that girl was his type after all.

After a long discussion, they decided to allow boys with boys and girls with girls too.

Shit.

 

Emma

The party started perfectly! Everyone was dancing and drinking. Emma thought it was really fun.
She was lucky to have friends like them. After a while, Alex went to his other friends, and Pari went to her boyfriend.

Chloe and Caitlin were nowhere to be found, so Emma decided to have some fun herself.
Drinking and flirting without consequences was the best.
She never wanted a partner.
Martin was annoying, thinking they were together after some texting and two bad hookups.

When she got bored, she decided to join 7 minutes in heaven.

When she arrived, she saw her ex, Leo, leaving the closet with a girl she had met once.
Leo was decent, but she didn’t have a big crush on him.
She scanned the circle for people she might like. Oh god, Martin was there. Yuck.
Chloe was sitting there too, so Emma sat next to her.

She felt eyes burning into her soul. When she looked, she saw Martin staring with a creepy, angry look.
He was drunk.

Alex had told her he wasn’t over her. She didn’t regret blocking him, though.

He had said some racist and homophobic things, and Emma could NEVER be with someone like that.

The bottle landed on her.

She looked and saw a random boy with curly brown hair, glasses, a lot of acne, and sprouting facial hair.

He looked surprised and red. He wasn’t that attractive, but who cared?

She found his reaction funny. Since she was tipsy, she was bold.

 

They went into the closet.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 closet

 

Matteo

The party was perfect.

Matteo had sold a ridiculous amount, hung out with his best friends, and barely stopped moving all night. Music blasted through the house. People danced, vaped, drank, did whatever they could get their hands on. Exactly how he liked it.

His best friends were Shiro and Mathis.

Shiro was Thai, tall and lean, with short black hair and the typical warm Thai skin tone. His large black eyes were almost always red—he was a heavy addict. He always said he could “stop anytime,” though Matteo had never once seen him sober. Matteo didn’t care. He wasn’t Shiro’s dad, and the money he made off him was good, so
he kept his mouth shut.

Mathis was the complete opposite. Belgian, dirty blond hair, dark stubble scattered across his face, hazel eyes. He lived in skater clothes and confidence. Loud, cocky, always laughing at someone else’s expense. Somehow, despite being so different, he and Shiro were inseparable.

Everything was going great.

Until Emily showed up.

God, I hate her so much. But I have to.

“Omg, Mat! I finally found you!” Emily squealed.

“Em,” Matteo said smoothly, forcing a grin. “I was looking everywhere for you. Weren’t you with Alex?”

“O-oh—wait, Alex is here too?!”

Matteo blinked.

I thought she stalked his every move. How does she not know?

“Yeah,” he said. “I think so.”

“Well, oops,” Emily laughed. “I’m here with you now.”

Wow, Emily Gabes. You are way too easy.

Just flirt. Free Alex. That’s the plan.

“Why don’t you join me here?” Matteo said, tapping the chair next to him. “It’s kinda lonely.”

He shifted slightly. The chair was way too small for two people.

“Hey, Em,” he continued casually, “I was thinking… you’re actually amazing.”
Emily froze, then blushed hard.

“And honestly,” Matteo added, leaning in just a bit, “you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”
She moved closer, hanging onto every word.

“But,” Matteo said, lowering his voice, “it feels wrong saying that when you’re dating my best friend.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT, MATT,” Emily gasped. “C’MON, I’M BREAKING UP WITH HIM RIGHT NOW!”

This was absurdly easy.
Yes. Yes. Yes.

“Wait—really?” Matteo said, pretending to be shocked. “You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, my love. Let’s go find him.”

They found Alex talking to a handsome guy with green hair. Matteo hoped that made him even happier.

“A-Alex!” Matteo called.

“Huh? Oh—HI MATT,” Alex said. “What’s up?”

“Alex,” Emily said nervously, “can you come with us for a second?”

Matteo winked at him.

Their deal was working. Alex could finally be free.
Unless… what if Alex didn’t want to be free?
No. Don’t overthink it. This is right.

They went to the garage. Cold. Empty. Matteo briefly noted how easy it would be to steal something if he needed to.

“Okay,” Emily said, shaking. “This is serious. I’ve thought about this for a long time, but I can’t do this to you anymore. I know you still love me, but—”

She tried not to cry.

“Hey,” Matteo said gently, way too gently, “you’re doing great.”

She sniffed. “Okay. So… I like someone else.”

“Oh,” Alex said flatly. “So we’re breaking up, right?”

God, he was a terrible actor. Emily hugged him tightly, crying. Alex stood there stiff as a board, clearly uncomfortable.

“C’mon, Em,” Matteo said. “Let’s go. Bye, Alex. Hope you take it well.”

Alex didn’t cry. He barely managed not to laugh.
As they walked away, Matteo leaned in and whispered, “You owe me one.”
Alex smiled.
Mission accomplished.

Matteo planned to slowly show Emily who he really was—but first, he needed her to buy. Keeping her happy was exhausting, but she eventually did. Ten minutes after
the breakup, she was already high, clinging to him, clearly shooting her shot.

He felt nothing.

After reading the awful messages she had sent Alex, how could he?

“Ooh, Matteo,” she giggled. “You’re so much better than Alex.”

She tried climbing onto him. Matteo played along, even though his stomach turned.

“Oh yeah?” he said. “In what way?”

“Hmmm,” she smiled. “Every way.”

He laughed, staring past her.

Then he saw Alex standing in the doorway.

Devastated.

Matteo panicked—but he couldn’t explain. Not here. Not now. Too many people. Too much money on the line.
Emily grabbed his face.

“Hey,” she said sharply. “Eyes up here.”

That was it.

He pulled back, breaking the kiss immediately.

“Why,” Matteo said coldly, “did you think I wanted to kiss you?”

 

Nicole

Noah came running toward Nicole, Vicky, and Sam.

“Is he… crying?” Vicky whispered.

“Noah,” Sam said, alarmed, “what happened?!”

Noah tried to talk, but nothing made sense. He was crying so hard it came out in broken noises. Then—somehow—he started laughing too.

“Wait,” Vicky said slowly. “Are you… happy crying?”

Noah nodded and managed one word.

“Emma.”

Nicole rolled her eyes internally.

Oh wow. Here we go again.

“We made out,” Noah blurted.

“What?”

“WHO?”

“HOW?”

“WHEN?”

 

“REALLY?!”

Everyone exploded at once.

It made no sense. Noah had liked Emma since ninth grade. They barely spoke. And now this?

After twenty minutes of chaotic explaining, a group of guys approached them.

“Hey,” one said. “Are those your boyfriends?”

Ugh.

“I like girls,” Nicole said flatly.

The guys reacted immediately—some grossed out, some disappointed, some clearly way too interested.

“What about you, redhead?” one asked Vicky. “Wanna dance?”

He looked about seventeen. Basic. Straight jeans, short dark hair, a few tattoos.

 

“Yeah,” Vicky shrugged. “Why not.”
Nicole stared at her.

Didn’t Vicky always complain about basic people?

Whatever. Who cares.

Nicole turned away, scanning the room for a girl—any girl—who might want to experiment or just talk.
She felt irritated, restless, angry for reasons she couldn’t quite
place.

And that annoyed her even more.

 

Ahmed

Ahmed’s vision swam, the room tilting slightly every time he blinked. Must be the alcohol, he told himself. He just wanted to go home.
Shouldn’t he wait for Leo?

Ugh, whatever. He’s probably going to spend the night with a girl anyway.

“Ahmed!” Leo shouted.

“Huh?” Ahmed looked up, slow and disoriented. He hadn’t heard him the first few times.

“Your turn,” Leo said, smiling like this was the funniest thing in the world.

My turn? I don’t want to. I want to go home.

Still, his hand moved on its own. He spun the bottle.

As it turned, his chest tightened. There was a one-in-thirteen chance it would land on Leo. He hoped—no, prayed—it wouldn’t be Emma, or Martin, or that girl over there, or literally anyone. He needed out.

“You know you don’t actually have to do anything in there,” a girl with pigtails said casually. “Hell, you could even beat them up. What happens in the closet stays in
the closet.”

“I hope it’s me,” some random girl laughed.

Ahmed’s fingers trembled slightly. His leg bounced as the bottle slowed down. It passed Martin. Passed Caitlin. Passed someone he didn’t even know and—
“Ooooooh.”

“How unlucky,” Martin said, grinning. “Haha.”

“Oh well,” someone else shrugged. “They’re probably just gonna talk or whatever.”

 

It was Leo.

Fuckass Leo.

Ahmed felt sweat gather at the back of his neck. He pulled off his jacket and dropped it on the floor before walking toward the closet, forcing the most nonchalant
expression he could manage.

“Heyyyyy,” Leo said teasingly.

Ahmed’s stomach twisted. What were they supposed to do? Just talk. Of course. It’s Leo. They’ve talked a million times.

Still, this felt different. Wrong.

The closet was small, cramped, and uncomfortably warm. The door closed behind them with a dull thud. Leo acted like this was completely normal, like they weren’t
locked in a tiny space together.

“Seven minutes start now!” the game leader yelled.

Leo kept staring at Ahmed, even though Ahmed deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on a crack in the wall.

“So,” Leo said, voice low, “are we gonna do this or what?”

Ahmed snapped his head up, shock written all over his face.

Did he hear that right?

What the fuck was Leo implying?

“What?” Ahmed said sharply.

Leo stepped closer. Too close. Their faces were barely ten centimeters apart. Ahmed’s breath hitched.

This had to be a joke. One of Leo’s stupid jokes. Yeah. Definitely.

“Stop joking around,” Ahmed said, pushing Leo back slightly.

“What?” Leo replied. “You didn’t seem to hate it last time.”

Something in Ahmed broke. Panic flooded his face—the first real emotion he’d shown all night. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure Leo could hear it. His cheeks
burned with shame.

Why now?

Why here?

Why bring it up at all?

It had been a mistake. A drunk mistake.

He was a drunk mistake.

“Hey,” Leo said softly. “It’s alright, Ahmed. I don’t mind.”

Ahmed grabbed Leo by the shirt, his fist clenched, raised but shaking. He didn’t even fully understand why he was angry—only that this wasn’t something to joke
about.

“Shut the fuck up, Leo,” Ahmed snapped. “Don’t talk stupid.”

“Alright,” Leo said calmly. “We don’t have to talk.”

He smirked.

Before Ahmed could react, Leo placed both hands on his head and pulled his face oh his.

 

Emma

After two terrible hookups with two extremely ugly dudes and one kinda cute guy, Emma finally found a girl she’d probably spend the night with.

Didn’t know her name. Didn’t want to know her name.

They ended up in the master bedroom—thank God it wasn’t taken yet. Everything followed the usual pattern: kissing, hands wandering, clothes slowly disappearing. The girl was pretty, older, with black hair. Emma liked hookups like this—easy, meaningless, uncomplicated.

While they were kissing, she vaguely heard noise upstairs. She didn’t care enough to think about it.

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The door flew open.

Alex stumbled inside, out of breath, eyes wide with terror. He barely had time to dive behind the bed.

A second later, Martin stormed in, gripping a broken beer bottle. He was drunk, exhausted, and breathing heavily.
When he looked up and saw Emma,
the bottle slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.

Alex popped up, panic exploding out of him.

“No no no no no—oh God, oh God! This is so not what I meant to do!” He ran his hands through his red hair, pacing wildly.

“I’m so, so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to out you, Emma!”

His eyes filled with tears. Martin stared between Emma and the girl, his face frozen in shock.

“What the fuck is going on?” the girl said.

“I have no idea,” Emma said flatly. “They just ran in.”

The girl grabbed her clothes and left without another word.

Emma watched Martin carefully. She knew he was homophobic. Her stomach sank.

Was he going to hurt her?

Alex collapsed against her, sobbing into her shoulder. He must’ve had a horrible night.

“S-so… th-that’s why…” Martin stuttered. “Why you…”

“No,” Emma said firmly.

“I-it’s okay,” Martin continued. “I guess I should be happy it’s not me… Oh God. How could I fall for a lesbian?”

“I’m not a lesbian,” Emma snapped. “I’m bi.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Martin said quickly. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah,” Emma said coldly. “You better not, you lying shithead.”

She knew he would spread rumors anyway. He still looked shaken.

“This does… explain things,” Martin muttered.

“I TOLD YOU I’M INNOCENT, YOU IDIOT!” Alex yelled, tears still streaming.

“Innocent of what?” Emma asked.

“Alex, I—” Martin started.

“THIS GUY THOUGHT YOU LEFT HIM FOR ME,” Alex screamed. “SO HE THOUGHT IT WAS A GREAT IDEA TO MURDER ME WITH A DAMN BEER BOTTLE.”

Emma’s blood boiled.

“What the fuck?” she said, staring at Martin.

“L-look, things got out of hand,” Martin muttered.

“Ya think?” Alex snapped.

“I wasn’t planning on killing you,” Martin said desperately. “I just—Emma, I like you so much! I promise I won’t do it again!”

“Oh, fuck you,” Emma said, standing up. “That doesn’t fix anything. Do you realize how bad this could’ve gotten if I wasn’t here?”

She looked him straight in the eyes.

“You disgust me. I hope you stay single forever. How could you even think about stabbing him? For what—jealousy? Anger? Grow up.”

She grabbed Alex’s hand and ran.

“WAIT! EMMA! ALEX!” Martin shouted.

Emma didn’t look back. Alex’s hand trembled in hers.

She knew that fear.

It felt too much like her first boyfriend all over again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 fight

 

Matteo

Emily looked at me with a big shock on her face.

“W-what?”

Matteo pushed her away and said: “ Yeah that’s right, I don’t want to kiss you. I actually don’t even like you.” He was mean. He didn’t care. He needed to find Alex.

He ran out of the room. He heard Emily screaming his name but pretended not to notice. He looked almost everywhere. Did he got home already? Than he saw Martin.

He looked… strange.

Matteo: Martin, have you seen Alex

Martin: uhh yeah, he must be here somewhere. If you see him tell him I’m sorry okay? Tell him I didn’t mean it okay? I didn’t fucking mean it.

Matteo: uhh alright will do!

Martin looked wasted. He was talking weird. Not like himself. And what was that about Alex? He needed to him him immediately.

He finally found Alex. He was getting a drink in the fridge. He ran towards him.

Matteo: ALEX PLEASE LET ME EXPLAIN.

Alex had a black eye and a wound on his neck. Matteo felt rage and scaredness after seeing that.

Matteo: MAN W-WHO DID THIS? WHAT HAPPENDED???

Alex: like you care

The punk boy looked tired. Not happy at all.

Matteo: I do care! Really!

Alex: yeah like you care about my gf. Oh wait ex-gf.

Matteo: I don’t like her trust me!

Alex: Oh quit the crap! This was your whole plan after all wasn’t it?

Alex was swinging his arm like an idiot and had tears in his eyes. Matteo felt devastated after heared that. That wasn’t his plan at all.

Alex: You made me this stupid deal so you could get with her! I shoulve known. I should’ve known when you asked. God why am I so naief. This happends every damn
time!

Matteo: alex, please!!!

Alex: no, have fun with her. She’s all yours. Be a better boyfriend than me I suppose.

Alex took his drink and tried running away. Matteo quickly took his hand and said: Stop. You’re not going anywhere. I need to explain myself.

Alex was now full on crying. Matteo wanted to fix this.
He had to fix this.
He couldn’t lose the only person who cared about him.
The only person he cared about.

Matteo: Hey hey! I just needed Emily to buy from me. That’s it I swear. And yes at that moment she was clinging on me. But trust me Alex, right now she’s probs crying
since I told her I didn’t like her.

Alex: Y-you don’t?

Matteo: No!!! I can prove it!
Alex: How?
Matteo: Ill say some other time. When its not so crowded here.

Alex: Ah yeah and in the mean time you’re gonna fuck my ex.

Matteo: What?? No!!! Alex I swear I was just doing this for you.

Alex wanted to believe him. But he couldn’t make the same mistake he had made in the past. Matteo took Alex by his shoulders so he couldn’t escape.

Matteo: please Alex, you’re gonna see! You know you can see for yourself right now.

Alex: What do you mean?

Matteo: Emily is probably crying right now.

Alex: I don’t want to see that. But I believe you.

He still looked sad but the tears didn’t come out anymore. Matteo let go off Alex’s shoulders and just stared at him.
He hated this. Hated what he had done.

And hatedhow he hurted him.
They should’ve never become friends anyways.

 

He remembered the day they met very clearly, probs because it wasn’t that long ago.

It was a normal day in school.
He was talking with Ahmed about drugs and stuff like that.
About how Matteo should be more carefull.
Than Ahmed said a new guy joined his friendgroup.

I excpected it to be another basic boy with fluffy hair or sum.

Except it was Alex. The complete opposite. Hell, he even got a mullet.
He looked amazing.

Yet I didn’t show that when we met.

I just looked and didn’t say anything while Ahmed introduced us.

A week later Ahmed said that Alex was going to join us in the business. For some reason I just couldn’t believe that. He looked so innocent. And I didn’t want more
people in. I scoffed at Ahmed but he was stubborn. Talking about Elian again. That shutted me up. Luckely Ahmed said he only was gonna do vapes.

Ahmed even invited him to a meetup. I was so angry with him. Like how are you inviting Alex to a meetup with Liam.
Thank fully Liam couldn’t make it.
They started to explain details about prices, people, clients blablabla.

I could see him stressing out since he couldn’t understand it.

After that I got my paysheck and was going to leave. But something stopped me.
It was the urge to talk to Alex.
So I did.
I asked him if he understood everything.

Alex: uhhhh k-kinda?

Matteo: You want me to explain it better?

Why did he do that? He didn’t have time for that. He had a giant test tomorrow. Yet he was here, in a park, talking to a punk boy about vapes.

Than it started raining like crazy. We both didn’t wear caps. He said: hey uhh my house is like 1 minute away. If you want we can continue in there.” I was shocked
hearing that. We had already been talking for 2 hours and he wanted to continue?

Matteo: Oh sure!

Alex: you don’t have to! Don’t feel forced.

Matteo: I want to!

We smiled and began walking. He asked me bunch of questions. Why did he care? He almost found out about my scar but words couldn’t come out of my mouth.

Matteo: And then I- Nevermind

Alex: Its okay you don’t owe me anything!

He was the sweetest guy he had met in a while. We arrived at his house. It was small. He took the key from under a fake rock and went inside.

The house was so dirty. Bottles everywhere. Matteo felt so bad.

Alex: don’t mind the mess. I forgot to clean.

Why should he clean? Where are his parents? Oh there. He saw an old women with unmatched makeup, sleeping on the couch. She was white, unlike Alex who was
brownish. She wasn’t skinny at all and was wearing a ponytail that didn’t fitted her at all. She was ugly.

Alex: cmon Mateo, that’s just my mom.

Matteo: oh right sorry!

When walking to his room we saw his sister. Alex looked so surprised and angry.

Alex: What the hell are you doing here.

Lily: Oh well, I uhh thought mom wasn’t home and went to get my stuff I still left here.

Alex looked so angry, it didn’t fit him at all.

Alex: ok, you should leave. Did you get anything?

Lily: Alex, stop blaming me!

Alex: Oh right because its not your fault YOU left?

Lily: no! you would’ve done the same thing!

Alex: that’s bullshit!

Matteo felt like he shouldn’t be here at all.

Alex: Now take your crap and go to your boyfriend and never return. Hell, forget you have a family!!

Matteo didn’t knew what to do. He felt terrible. His sister, who looked different. She was also white, had brown half long hair actually left.

 

Alex: Ugh I’m so sorry Matt.
He rubbed his face with a frown.

After that we went in his room and talked for hours. Our conversations never seemed to end! It was so late and Alex insisted on sleeping there. It was amazing. Finally
sleeping in an actual house. He even helped me with my homework.

But then I saw it. His phone. He was sleeping but I couldn’t help but look at the messages. They were… terrible. At first I thought it was an AI or sum. But no, Emily
was a real person.

And she was horrible.

He took Alex’s phone and unlocked it with facescan.
He looked throught them all. There were about 99+ from only that day.
Because Alex didn’t respond she thought he was sheating.

She even threatened him with suicide and said: If you don’t respond in 5 minutes I will cut myself again.

Who does that? Those weren’t the worst ones since she actually did sh. She even sended a picture. It made me so angry. I had to do something. The more he read the
more angry I became. The next day Alex saw them to. He started to panic. I tried calming him down.

Matteo: what’s up?

Alex: uhh its just my girlfriend.

That word alone made me want to puke.

Matteo: you cant be serious. She angry because you went out with a friend? Jesus shes terrible. You should leave her.
Alex: I-uhh tried. Its kinda impossible.

Matteo: I can help.

From then on I was flirting non stop. I was good at it and It sure worked.

Alex: Got something more to say?

Matteo: I-uh srooy I was thinking. I hope understand…

Alex: yeah its alright…

He than walked in the crowd. He didn’t sound very alright.

 

Nicole

 

Nicole was dancing around a bit and found a girl with brown hair. She was just the average girl and liked girls to. That one was important. Its been a while since Nicole had a lover. Yet she wasn’t so exited.

She kept thinking about Vicky. About how she was finally making out with a guy.
She’s been wanting a normal relationship for a while now.
She should be happy for her.

 

They went in a random bathroom. They did a bit of smalltalk and flirted a bit. The bathroom was big and it had lipstick all over the mirror.

“Hey, look at me” the girl said.

Nicole: O-oh right sorry!

Riley: Is this your first time?

Nicole: With a girl? Ofcourse not!

Riley: alr than you just seem so nervous.

Riley started to piss Nicole of. Did she even want this anymore? If she didn’t than she shouldn’t force herself. She knew that she now had the chance to leave.

Nicole: I-uh I’m sorry Riley, your sweet and all but I uhh

She needed a quick ewcuse.

“I’m still not over my ex!” She lied.

Riley: oh you got to be kidding me. This is the second time! Cant a girl find someone these days?

Nicole: its not you! Bye!

Nicole went out the bathroom and was walking towards the place her band was standing. She passed Alex, who was heavely drinking like his life depended on it. She
was curious how Vicky was doing.

When she got there, she saw Sam all over Vicky. What the hell? She looked closer and saw he was just touching her face with his hand.

She rushed and saw Vicky.
She had a bloody nose and a black eye.
RAGE filled Nicole.
She just stood there.
Looked at Vicky while trying not the scream.

Nicole: Who

Sam: what?

Nicole: WHO.

Vicky: Nicole, its okay its my fault really. I should’ve told him when we were standing here.

Nicole: WHO.

Sam: those guys. You know Ilyano and all his minions.

She wanted to kill him. But she knew vikcy wouldn’t approve of that.

Nicole: your bleeding like crazy, how about you go clean up in the bathroom?

Vicky: oh yeah your right.

Vicky had tears in her eyes. Was it because of the black eye, or because the idiot who did this to her.
Either way it didn’t matter.
She knew exactly wat she was going to do.

The second Vicky was out of sight she becan runnin towards groups of guys. Trying to remember the ones from before. They all looked weird at her and said no.

Then she saw them. She wanted to know for sure it was them.

Nicole: Hey you guys!

She couldn’t control her anger but tried.

Ilyano: Huh? Who are you?

Nicole: Did you beat up a girl named Vicky?

The guys were looked at her very intimiderend it was kinda scary since she was there all alone.

Ilyano: Vicky? Hmmm oh you mean Vincent? Yeah ive beat that guy up.

All his friends were laughing.

Nicole: Why?

Ilyano: Because he should stop confusing people by playing dress up that’s why.

Nicole: Apologize.

Ilyano: what?

Nicole: APPOLOGISE.

The eyes on her felt horrible. But she needed to do this.

Ilyano: pfff haha or what?

Nicole couldn’t stop herself anymore and she just trew the first punch.

She did kickbox for about 3 years now she knew how to.

He backed aside. His nose started to bleed. His friends looked up very surprised.

Ilyano: What the fuck did you just do you whore!

Nicole: misogonystic, transphobic assholes like you deserve this.

He tried punshing her back, but she backed down.

Nicole: aww your telling you only beat up girls when there vurnable. So sad.

Ilyano felt uneasy and so angry. He tried hitting her a couple of times again but he missed. Than his friend came in to help.

Nicole: back off you minion. Help him and your just the same as him.

That didn’t stop the guy tho. He went towards Nicole. Luckely Sam barched in. The guy actually stopped and got scared. Sam was pretty mascular and was 184 cm.
And was even scarier when he was mad.

Ilyano: Why the hell are you even fighting me? I just did what I had to! He assaulted me!

Nicole: Assaulted you??? You asked her to dance!

Ilyano: well I thought he was a girl!

Nicole: SHE IS A GIRL

 

Ilyano: You are what you have in your pants! Heh and from what I felt, that’s a ma-
Nicole took him on the ground with a high kick.

He was now laying on the ground.

Sam looked shocked, same as everyone there.

He now was lying on the ground. Perfect Nicole thought and becan punching his face like a psycho.

BAM
BAM
BAM

No emotion on Nicole's face

His face became redder and redder, more and more swollen.
It was
really really bad.

Some guys tried pulling Nicole off. She kept going. Blood everywhere.
When they took her off she began kicking his genitals.

He didn’t deserve kids she thought.
Eventhought he was barely countias he said: i-I’m so so-sorry.

He was full on crying, thinking this was it. The end of his life.

Nicole: wasn’t that hard was it?

Nicole ran away, her anger gotten les. But still…

When running she saw Vicky. Standing there. Speehless.
Many people rushed to Ilyano. Some even towards her.

Calling her crazy.

Weird, if a girl cant fight its “typical girl” but when she can she’s “crazy”.?

Vicky ran to Nicole and instead of getting scared or angry they just hugged. It was so worth it she knew.

 

Ahmed

Ironic isn’t it?

In a damn closet.

Ahmed wanted to pull away, to puke yet he couldn’t.

His brain was full on fighting with itself.

Fuck it he then thought.

There both drunk. Lets pretend I cant remember tomorrow or whatever.

The next minutes in the closet they continued making out.

That was Ahmeds first time. He mustve sucked. Leo was just pinning him down the entire time.
He didn’t mind.
Everything disappeared around them.
Litterly they were all just gone. Maybe there was a fight or something?

Ahmed could feel his cheeks blushing and its killing him.

Yet the feeling of holding back killed him more.

This was so wrong.

In so many ways.

What was wrong with him?
He’s straight he knew that.
Being gay is a choice.
Is he making that choice right now?
Because it feels like he doesn’t.
Even when drunk Ahmed cant stop thinking.

“Does Leo do this to everyone?”

“Is Leo gay?”
“Is it gonna be akward after this?”
‘Is he going to remember?”

Than his mind went blank.
He suddenly didn’t care anymore.
He just wanted Leo right now and than.

The closet wasn’t safe anymore so they went inside a random room and locked it.
Ahmed didn’t knew if it was a dream or realitie.

 

Emma

 

Emma wanted to go home after whet just happened.
When she grabbed her jacket she heard loud screams.

Obviously she looked at what was going on
. Everyone was around someone.

A fight?
A drunk who fell unconscious?

She started asking people.

She knew Nicole.
Not that good but she heard a lot about her from Alex.

Looking at the state he was in, she mustve been really angry.

 

She knew how some guys could be so he probably deserved something. But looking at the body that might not even be breathing anymore, she maybe went to far. Not
like she cared that much. She didn’t feel so good.

She saw Chloe and asked if she wanted to go home with her. Chloe on the other hand, felt great!

“Alex and Emily broke up!” she said way to happy.

Emma herself was also happy to hear that. Good for him, she thought.

“So… when are you gonna shoot your shot?” Emma said winking.

Chloe blushed and looked away.

Chloe: Stop it Emma, they just broke up.

Chloe was sitting on the coach. She wasn’t drunk at all. She was very smart. Always has been. She was also from belguim and had one twinbrother: Mathis.

She has been crushing on Alex for about 4 months now. Should Emma ask Alex about it? Maybe tomorrow, she was tired and wanted to leave.

Should she look for Pari and Caitlin? They were probably in a randoms room right now so she probably shouldn’t.

On her way out, she met eyes with the nerdy guy she played that game with.

He freaked out and ran away. Cute, she thought.

She went out and took the bus home.

She felt weird. Could be the alcohol.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

 

Matteo

What should Matteo do? He had just done what he always did: run away from his issues instead of facing them.
It was almost automatic at this point, a reflex he didn’t even question anymore.

He went back to Shiro, who was standing with Nyra.

Nyra was his… well, that depended on the moment.
They had their phases.

She had bright pink hair, a spiky tail, and wore gothic clothing. On both sides of her head, near her ears, her hair was styled to resemble skunk markings, which made her instantly recognizable in a crowd.

They were mostly fighting, but Matteo guessed they had gotten back together again.
They did that a lot—fighting, breaking things off, and then making up like nothing had happened.
It had become old very quickly, especially for the people around them.

Nyra was friends with Emily, although Matteo had heard from Alex that she didn’t really like her.
Whether that was true or just another rumor, he didn’t know.

 

The night went as usual, but Matteo felt terrible the entire time.
A heavy, uncomfortable feeling stayed with him, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.
After most people had passed out, gone home, or moved on to another party—the kind the brown-haired boy was originally planning to go to—things slowly died
down.

He looked around, searching for anyone still left.
There were far fewer people than usual. Did something happen?
There were still people around, just not like in the beginning of the night.

As he scanned the room again, he didn’t see any of Alex’s friends.

Except for Alex himself.

While walking, he noticed someone lying on the ground. The person had a cup in his hand, the contents spilled across the floor.

How had no one seen this? The boy was unconscious.
Or sleeping.

Who knew.

Without thinking, Matteo bent down and picked him up.

He checked quickly—he was breathing. Good.

At least that. It was the least Matteo could do.

It surprised him how drunk Alex was.

Not only that, but there was blood on his neck, and bruises were already forming.

What had happened? And why hadn’t Matteo been there?
The guilt settled deep in his chest.

He carried him with both hands, but struggled a lot. He wasn’t the strongest, and Alex was a couple of centimeters taller than him. He knew he couldn’t hold him much longer.

Thankfully, Alex woke up. He looked confused, his eyes unfocused, yet he didn’t say anything at first.

“Can you get on my back?” Matteo asked.

Alex: Huh? Oh yeah sure

Matteo tried lowering him, but Alex couldn’t stand on his legs anymore. After a while, the drunk boy managed to get on Matteo’s back. He didn’t ask any questions.

They headed outside and started walking down the street. It was dark and kind of cold, the night air sharp against Matteo’s skin.

“I’m sorry…” Alex said.

Matteo: for what?

Matteo felt his arms shaking. He couldn’t hold on much longer, but he tried walking slower, more carefully.

Alex: for… being a problem. A drunk. Like my parents..

Alex started swinging his arms, making Matteo almost lose his balance.

Matteo: you’re not a problem, I am. I Went to far.

Alex: That is NOT true!!!

Alex suddenly started yelling and moving around, and they both fell to the ground. For a moment, there was only silence. Then they both started laughing.

Matteo felt good again.
The heavy feeling from before slowly disappeared.
They eventually got up, and Matteo put Alex’s arm around his shoulder so he could walk better.

Alex kept talking nonsense, slurring his words, but Matteo just listened and nodded.

He knew Alex wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning.

Alex was a nice drunk—not aggressive or mean, just stupid.

While walking toward Alex’s house, Matteo said, “the moon looks beautiful tonight doesn’t she?”

Alex: the hell you talking bout. Its not even full moon.

Matteo: yeah, I know its just really nice tonight.

Alex: nice nice

Matteo chuckled softly. They were almost at Alex’s house.

When they arrived, Alex was pretty much asleep again. Luckily, Matteo knew about the key hidden inside the fake rock near the door.
He opened it, unsure of what he would find inside.

They went in, and the house was empty.
Not a single soul. Thank God.

Matteo walked toward the bedroom, but then noticed a guy he had never seen before.
Was that Alex’s father? That couldn’t be right—this guy was white and very young.
He also looked high, or extremely drunk.

He didn’t see Matteo or Alex at all.

They went into Alex’s room, and Alex immediately fell onto the bed.
The mattress from two days ago, when Matteo had slept over, was still on the floor.

Alex hadn’t bothered to put it away—maybe because he had taken it from his sister’s room.

Matteo spoke softly, thinking Alex was already asleep.

“I’m sorry, you deserve a better friend then me.”

When he was about to leave the room, he heard Alex groan. Matteo turned around and saw Alex crawling toward the edge of the bed, trying to keep his eyes open as
he grabbed onto Matteo’s jacket.

“please don’t leave.”

He was still extremely drunk, Matteo thought, and slowly turned toward the door again.

“Please Matteo, I don’t wanne be alone! Sleep on the mattress again! Don’t leave me.”

Those words made Matteo stop immediately. Alex was on his knees on the bed now, almost crying. He looked like he truly meant it.

Matteo glanced around the room. The mattress was still there, exactly where it had been the last time he slept over.

He sighed. He really didn’t like sleeping in his own building, but on the other hand, Alex might be confused in the morning.

He was probably still mad too.

Alex tried moving closer and almost fell off the bed. Matteo caught him just in time and laid him back down.

 

“Okay okay ill sleep on the mattress.” Matteo said while Alex did his best puppy eyes.

“good.” Alex replied. He still didn’t let go of Matteo.

“Uhh Alex?... Alex?” Matteo said, trying to get Alex to release his grip.

Alex had already fallen asleep. Cute.

Matteo carefully pulled his arm away and lay down on the mattress.

 

Nicole

Sam came rushing up to them and said, “guys we need to leave right now!”

Vicky and Nicole immediately nodded at each other and followed Sam outside.

“Noah! Noah where are you??!??” Vicky shouted while running toward the door. Where was he? They didn’t have time to wait, but they couldn’t leave him behind.

“guys im here!” Noah rushed toward them, and together they quickly left the building. Nicole glanced at her friends. None of them looked angry or afraid.

They ran toward Sam’s car, Noah lagging behind a bit.

“Guys what happened?” Noah asked, confused.

“I-uhh” Nicole started.

“We’ll explain later, now get in we need to get out of here.” Vicky said quickly while getting into the car.

Sam’s car wasn’t the type you would expect him to drive. It was a tiny, light-blue Fiat. Luckily, they all barely fit.

“wheres Alex? He’s not there anymore right?” Nicole asked, panic creeping into her voice.

“Nono,” said Sam. “I saw him getting dragged away by a friend of his, I think.”

They all frowned at him.

“he was wasted guys nothing weird… I hope.” Sam added after a moment.

They drove to the place they always went when things got bad—when Noah ran away from home, or when Vicky first came out.
It had always been there. Even when Sam showed up with liberty spikes for the first time.

It was always the skate tunnel, or at least that’s what they called it.

There was a motorway bridge with massive concrete tubes underneath it.

Some teens had found a way inside and covered the walls in graffiti.
Someone had even lived there for a while.
That was how they found it, and it slowly became their hangout spot.

It was a little scary, and the noise from the traffic was annoying, but you got
used to it.

When they arrived, Sam parked his car five minutes away. They walked up the small hill they always climbed to get into the big tube.

The place was perfect: big, gritty, enough light, snacks, and space to breathe.

 

Once inside, they could finally relax. Sam immediately grabbed Nicole by the shoulders and shook her.

“WHY DID YOU DO THAT NIC? YOU COULDVE DIED?!”

Nicole just stared at him with wide eyes, slowly processing how serious everything actually was.

She looked at the others. Noah still seemed confused and frowned,
but Vicky looked scared.

That alone made Nicole tear up.

Was Vicky scared of her?

“Wowowow hey hey its okay! Nicole its fine!” Sam said quickly when he saw Nicole burst into tears.
“Its going to be okay! He wont press charges he did a hate crime as well!”

Nicole didn’t care about that. She cared about how others would see her—not strangers, but her friends and her family.

“you did the right thing, its gonna be okay.” Sam said as he hugged her tightly. His spiked necklace hurt a little.

Vicky quickly joined in, and Noah followed, even though he still didn’t know what had happened.
The warm group hug was exactly what they all needed.

Nicole felt safe there.

 

After a minute, she felt her shoulders getting wet.

Vicky. Such a shame—all her makeup was ruined.

 

Ahmed

He needed this. He had wanted this for… so long.

 

Ever since he could remember.
They had met when they were six.
Leo and Ahmed were playing in the sand.

Ahmed didn’t have any friends back then.
He barely talked. But for some reason, Leo started talking to him.

 

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

 

Ahmed looked up from the hole he was digging. Was Leo talking to him?

“u-uhhh… no?” Ahmed said quietly.
He didn’t know what to say.

He had never really thought about that before.

“Das cool dude! Can you ask Maya to be my girlfwiend?” Leo grinned, like his life was nothing but sunshine and rainbows.

Ahmed never understood why Leo had chosen him out of everyone else.

From that day on, they were always together.

Even though Leo had other friends besides Ahmed, he always came back to him.

Leo was well-liked, even in elementary school. In middle school, they parted ways for a while—only for a year or so.

Still, that year messed both of them up.

Ahmed was completely alone. He had to force himself to talk to others, to get over his own fear.

He did everything he could to fit in, and eventually he became good at it.

Leo, on the other hand… Ahmed never really knew why he changed schools just to go to Ahmed’s. He tried asking, but Leo always avoided the subject, joking it away or saying something stupid.

Ahmed had always liked Leo.

He never wanted to admit it.
He told himself it was nothing, that he liked girls—except Leo.

Maybe it was because Leo liked feminine things too.

Or maybe because Leo was the only person who truly knew him.

Either way, Ahmed hated it.

He didn’t want to think about it.

But he knew.

His body knew. It always had.

Since he was drunk, he could deny it all tomorrow. Right now, he needed this.

Drunk or not.

 

Emma

On the bus, the weird feeling continued.

Emma looked around. No one was there except her and a group of teens around her age.

They were loud.

Wait a second… hadn’t they been at the party too? She stared at them, trying to figure it out.

There were four girls and two guys.

The blonde girl was the loudest.

She was very coquette, and Emma was sure she had seen her before.

One of the girls noticed Emma staring.

“Oh hey aren’t you from the party to?” she asked from the other side of the bus.

Everyone suddenly stared straight at Emma. Not that she cared. She was tired.

“Yeah, it got weird when the fight ended so I left.” Emma replied, looking away and then out the window.

It would still take another ten minutes before she got home.

“Omg do you know what happened???” the blonde girl almost yelled. She looked excited—too excited. The others did too.

“I mean I know the basics? Not in details tho.” Emma said slowly.

They quickly moved closer, surrounding her, waiting for her to continue. So she did.

“Well I know that Ilyano got beaten up so badly he is now in the hospital.” Emma said casually.

The others gasped. Emma liked the attention and kept going.

“I heard he first hit a girl for no reason. Then the friend of the girl got so mad that they went over to him.”

“Ohhhhh.”

“Oh damn.”

The blonde girl seemed to enjoy the story the most.
“Do you know more?? Do you know who did it!?”

Emma hesitated. It would probably spread at school by Monday anyway.

“yeah I know her.”

More gasps.

“A girl did that????” the guy behind the blonde girl said.

“yeah she kickboxed for around 4 years and stuff. Besides I heard she has anger issues.” Emma said, enjoying their reactions.

“omg girl the gossip is to much” the blonde girl said in a tone Emma despised.

“yeah one dude tried helping but he just couldn’t because another friend joined in to protect Nicole.”

The blonde girl’s expression went blank.

“n-nicole? As in Nicole Claeys?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“Uhh I don’t know her last name but she plays in a band and has dreads in different colors.”

The blonde girl didn’t know what to say.

Another girl, with brown skin and black hair, asked calmly, “so Nicole is the one who attacked right?”

“Yeah, but he definitely deserved it. I know the guy—he’s an ass.” Emma said, laughing slightly.

“wow that’s such a crazy thing to happen in a place like this.

I hope he doesn’t involve the police. Poor girl.” said another girl.
She had big hair, a tiger-print top, a very short skirt, dark skin, and wild makeup.

The gyaru look was absolutely Emma’s type.

 

“you guys from Dhoore’s highschool?” Emma asked her.
“oh no but were close by, we go to Landom’s highschool.”

“ohh alr alr..”

“Hey can we get you number you seem chill” the guy in the back said.

“Yeah ofc!” Emma replied.

The bus stopped. This was her stop. She got off, realizing she hadn’t paid—but she didn’t care. She was tired, but fulfilled.

This day had been weird.

Next week was another party.
Hopefully, at that one, she’d get laid.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

 

Matteo

Matteo couldn’t really sleep that night. He lay awake, staring at Alex, who was sleeping in his own bed slightly higher than him.

The room was quiet, yet Matteo felt something strange, an uneasy feeling he couldn’t quite place.

Then he heard it: music and drunken singing drifting through the house. It was annoying. He could make out a woman’s voice and a man’s voice somewhere nearby.

The boy with the scar tensed slightly, not wanting the noise to wake Alex. Luckily, Alex slept right through it.

After the music finally stopped, Matteo eventually drifted off as well.

The next morning, Matteo woke up to see Alex still sleeping peacefully.

His mouth was wide open, and his heavy breathing filled the room.
Sunlight seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the walls.

The posters in Alex’s room were now clearly visible—bands and shows covered almost every inch.

There was barely any empty space left that wasn’t filled with printed posters or stickers.

When Matteo heard Alex make a small sound, he glanced over. Alex stirred slightly, still keeping his eyes closed.

Matteo kept watching until the red-haired boy finally opened his eyes.

“what the?” Alex muttered, clearly half asleep.

“morning,” Matteo replied, a hint of apology visible on his face.

Alex suddenly sat upright, shock written all over him. He didn’t remember anything, did he?

“uhhhh…” Alex began, his face turning red—probably from a mix of embarrassment and confusion.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Matteo asked carefully.

“Well uhh let me think,” Alex said slowly. “Well I remember breaking up… I remember you getting with Emi—”

“HEY THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN,” Matteo blurted out way too loudly. He grabbed Alex by the shoulders and started shaking him.

Alex laughed when he saw how much Matteo was panicking.

“If you say so,” he replied. “I remember then playing one of those drunk games. Then I blacked out.” Regret flickered across his face.

“Uhhh what happened then?” Alex asked, looking away.

“Well uhh,” Matteo started, hesitating. “You passed out on the floor. And I took you home.”

Alex visibly relaxed after hearing that.

“I didn’t do anything weird, right?” he asked quietly, still not daring to look at him.

“Uh no? You’re a nice drunk,” Matteo answered with a small smile.

Alex seemed less embarrassed now and got out of bed.

“thanks for staying,” he said softly, finally meeting Matteo’s blue eyes.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Matteo whispered back.

 

Nicole

After staying in the skate tube until four in the morning, Noah’s mother started to worry. Noah, the momma’s boy he was, explained the whole situation honestly. His
mother, being the kind woman she was, suggested that they could all sleep over at his place.
And so they did.

When they arrived, Noah’s mom greeted everyone with a big hug.

“Oh poor baby!! Some boys really aren’t raised right at all!” she exclaimed while gently holding Vicky’s face to look at her bruises.

Noah and his mom lived alone in a fairly large house. Noah’s room was huge as well. He slept in the bed with Sam, while Vicky and Nicole both slept on a mattress on
the floor. They talked almost the entire night, sharing everything like never before.
They felt closer than they ever had.

Noah’s mom was genuinely happy that he had made friends.
He had never really had any before, mostly because of how he looked and his interests, which some people considered weird.

When he met Vicky—during her transition—she didn’t have many friends either, except for Sam.

They were in the same class and started talking after Noah noticed she was reading a Sonic comic. That was also how Noah met Sam. Vicky and Sam had known each other since kindergarten.

Nicole knew Vicky had a crush on Sam, but she had never dared to say anything.
Nicole wasn’t sure if those feelings were still there.

The next morning, Noah’s mom baked croissants and far too much food for all of them.
Her heart melted when she saw how well everyone got along. One by one, they took turns showering, washing off the blood, sweat, and exhaustion of the night before.

Nicole always thought a lot in the shower.

She thought about how she hadn’t been able to control herself at all.

About how she hadn’t wanted to do anything with that girl.
And about how, in her dreams, she and Vicky lived together in a big house with five cats.

What a weird dream. Oh well—she didn’t think too much about it.

After his shower, Sam’s spikes were gone, and his green hair fell naturally into a mullet. He looked completely different without it styled up.

Nicole could see how scared he was—scared that his friends might do something to her, scared of being seen as dangerous, violent,

It didn’t bother Nicole much. She did what she had to do. Besides, she had fun.

Nicole sometimes wondered where Noah’s dad was.
She had never heard about him, never seen him. Maybe he left. Maybe he died. She didn’t want to bring it up.

Noah’s mom was still young, with dyed dirty-blonde hair tied up in a bun.
She wore casual clothes and always had the biggest smile on her face whenever she saw Nicole and her friends.

Sometimes, Nicole wished she were her mom.

 

Ahmed

The moment Ahmed opened his eyes, everything came rushing back. Every second of it. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. That wasn’t what he had planned at all.

How.

Why.

What the fuck.

Panic hit him immediately, sharp and overwhelming.

This was the worst thing that could have happened.

His chest felt tight as he turned his head, almost afraid of what he might see, hoping—pathetically—that this was just another weird dream his brain had made up.
But it wasn’t.

There he was. Leo. Sleeping peacefully right next to him in a stranger’s bed. Beautiful in that effortless way Ahmed hated himself for noticing. Innocent-looking, like nothing bad had happened at all.

Ahmed’s stomach twisted.

He grabbed his phone with shaking hands. 9:00 a.m.

He needed to leave. Right now.
He needed to disappear, lock himself in his room, curse himself for everything, and never come out again.
The thought of anyone seeing him like this made his skin crawl.

Leo shifted beside him, mumbling something unintelligible before turning over.

Ahmed jumped out of bed and frantically searched for his clothes, pulling them on as if his life depended on it.

“hmm Ahmed, what time is it?” Leo murmured, rubbing his eyes.

Ahmed froze. He couldn’t look at him. He couldn’t even get himself to answer.

Leo sat up and then stood, walking toward him.

“what’s wrong?” Leo asked softly, resting his head against Ahmed’s back.

Ahmed stiffened. Leo was shorter than him—about seven centimeters—but right now Ahmed felt small. Pathetic.

“I-I blacked out last night. What happened?” Ahmed lied.

Leo yawned, still clearly half asleep.

“hmmmm let me think…” Leo said slowly. “Oh the seven minutes in heaven. Do you remember that? Ha that was fun.”

Of course Ahmed remembered.

Every second of it.

He didn’t know what to say. What to do. What to think. His heart felt like it was about to give up completely.

“uhhhhh…” was all Ahmed managed.

“haha that’s okay it was a wild night!” Leo said, taking a step back and smiling.

A fake smile.

Ahmed knew him too well not to notice. That hurt almost more than anything else.

Leo was still wearing his shirt and boxers. Ahmed couldn’t bring himself to look him in the eyes. He kept searching for his things, focusing on anything except the
guilt burning through him.

After they both gathered their stuff, Leo casually suggested going to a store to get breakfast.

Ahmed’s thoughts were spiraling.

Why is he acting so normal?

I can’t look at him.

But I can’t say no.

They stepped out into the hallway, passing other people in the house. Of course Leo knew them. Of course he stopped to talk. They mentioned something about a
fight, voices animated and shocked.

Ahmed didn’t care.

He was too busy replaying every decision he had ever made. Every sign he had ignored. Every time he had told himself he was normal. That this wasn’t him.

Leo suddenly looked shocked while talking.

Must be serious, Ahmed thought distantly.

His hands were still shaking.

He needed to leave.

“Leo I don’t feel so good,” Ahmed muttered, already walking toward the door.

“Huh? Wait Ahmed where are you going?” Leo called out, rushing after him.

“home I have a huge hangover remember,” Ahmed snapped, the anger in his voice barely controlled.

“o-okay then goodbye,” Leo said, confused.

“yeah bye.”

Ahmed walked away as fast as he could. He needed distance. Air. Anything.

He grabbed his bike and rode like he was being chased.
His breathing was so heavy that people turned to stare at him as he passed.

He didn’t care.

When he finally got home, he vaguely heard his mother say something. He ignored it completely, went straight to his room, slammed the door shut, and locked it.

He collapsed onto his bed.

His breathing didn’t slow down.

His hands shook violently.

Panic attack.

He knew exactly what it was, which somehow made it worse.
Tears burned in his throat, choking him. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think.

He grabbed his hair with both hands, pulling at it desperately. Then he slammed his head
against the wall, once, twice, before starting to punch it with his fists.

 

Pain bloomed across his knuckles, red and swollen, and that only made him hit harder.

He deserved it.

Hate and disgust flooded his body. At himself. At his thoughts. At how broken he felt.

After what felt like forever—maybe twenty minutes—he grabbed his headphones and blasted the most depressing songs he could find. Slowly, painfully, his breathing steadied.

His eyes drifted around the room.

The knife on his desk caught the light.

It looked unusually shiny.

 

Emma

Emma heard her parents arriving while she was still half asleep.

Shit.

 

“EMMA?!!?” her mother yelled.
“Hmmm yea?” Emma replied groggily.

“HOW COME YOUR STILL SLEEPING? ITS 11 AM!” her mom screamed back.

“ughhh,” Emma muttered.

She dragged herself downstairs, facing her mother, who already looked furious.

“Are you sure no boys were over?” her mom asked sharply.

“Yes mom jesus can’t I sleep in?” Emma replied, annoyed.

Her mother’s expression darkened immediately.

“How dare you speak to me like that? Do you have any idea how much I do for you? You don’t realise how much I’ve sacrificed for this family. And this is how you
repay me?”

Another speech.

Emma heard them almost every day.

“Yes mom, I’m sorry. I just woke up,” Emma said flatly.

“And whose fault is that?” her mother snapped. “Were you on your phone at night?”

“No mom, I just slept in,” Emma replied, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Okay then. But you do understand why I’m asking this, right? I don’t want you making the same mistake you made last year.”

Emma felt hatred rise in her chest.

God, why did her mother always have to bring that up?

“Yes mom,” she answered.

“I’ll trust you this time, but if I find out you’re lying—” her mother warned.

After more talking and breakfast, Emma finally escaped back to her room.

Her phone buzzed constantly. The group chat was exploding over the fight. She noticed she had been added to a different group chat too. She couldn’t remember
when she had given out her number.

Scrolling back, she saw a name.

Her girl of the bus.

Everything came back.

They seemed to really like her and had already invited her to hang out this Sunday.

Making friends had never been hard for Emma. Maybe it was because she was objectively pretty. Maybe it was her humor.

But there had been a time when she had no one.

She pushed that memory away.

It still ate at her if she thought about it too long.

Good thing her mom had let her change schools.

Sunday with a new group.

She couldn’t wait.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

 

Matteo

“okay we just need to find a way out.” Alex said calm.

His voice sounded steady, almost unnaturally so, as if he was forcing calm into every syllable.
Matteo could tell Alex had been repeating that sentence in his head for a while now, maybe to convince himself more than anyone else.

They were both fully dressed, sitting in Alex’s room like nothing had happened, even though everything had happened.
They had been talking about the party for at least an hour, going over the same moments again and again, trying to make sense of them.

Some details stayed blurry, others were painfully clear, burned into Matteo’s mind whether he wanted them there or not.

Alex had called up his band not long after they got back.

The call had started normal, jokes and confused questions, but it hadn’t stayed that way.

At some point his voice cracked, and then he was crying.
Full-on crying.

Loud, messy, hiccuping sobs he didn’t even try to hide.

Alex cries a lot.

Matteo had noticed that before.
If his friends ever saw him like that, they’d laugh so hard they’d never let him forget it.

Yet Matteo didn’t. Not even for a second. It didn’t feel funny. It felt human.

The call had been long, way longer than Matteo expected, but strangely interesting.

Alex’s bandmates clearly known what really happened either. They knew about the whole fucked up story behind it.

Matteo mostly listened, half paying attention, half letting his eyes wander around the room.

Alex’s room was kind of small, barely big enough for a bed, a desk, and the chaos that filled it.

There was one window, the glass slightly dirty, letting in weak daylight that made the mess impossible to ignore.

Clothes were scattered everywhere—on the floor, on the chair, half hanging off the bed.
There were paint splatters on the desk and walls, empty energy drink cans stacked like sad little towers, drawing supplies thrown around like they’d been dropped in a hurry.

The small bureau was just as bad, completely covered in papers, pens, and random objects that probably meant something to Alex.

On the desk lay a black shirt with bleach stains near it.
The bleach wasn’t accidental; it was deliberate.
On the fabric, a skeleton skull had been hand-drawn, the lines sharp and confident.

Matteo stared at it for a moment. It looked really cool. Too cool for a room that felt like it was falling apart.

“Let me sheck if my moms here.” Alex said then while walking out of the door, searching for a seign of his mother.

Matteo’s stomach tightened instantly.

He hadn’t really thought about Alex’s mom until that moment.
He stood up slowly, unsure if he should follow or stay.

“she’s not in her bed, maybe on the couch?” Alex said while peeking in his own room to face Matteo.

“Ach whatever, she’s not gonna murder you or sum, just come quickly and she wont notice you.” Alex then said while waving for Matteo to come to him.

Matteo hesitated, then followed. The hallway swallowed them in darkness; the light didn’t work there at all. It was completely black, the kind of dark that made your
steps feel louder than they were. Matteo stayed close behind Alex, counting his footsteps without realizing he was doing it.

Most of the house wasn’t even fully painted yet. The walls were patchy, unfinished, like the place wasn’t meant to be lived in. Like someone had started building a
home and then just… stopped caring halfway through. Going down the stairs was easier than the hallway. At least there were a few windows there. Pale light slipped
through them, just enough to see where to place your feet.

As Matteo glanced outside, something caught his eye.

The shiny black jacket.

The brown hair pulled up in a bun.

His heart skipped. For a second, he thought he was imagining it, his brain filling in things that weren’t there. But when he looked closer—

“Is there something?” Alex asked worried.

“I-uh… no just a bird.” Matteo lied.

The lie came out too fast. Too smooth. He didn’t even have time to think about it. Why did he lie? He didn’t want to. The words had just slipped out, automatic, like his
mouth was protecting something his brain hadn’t processed yet.

They walked further. The front door was still slightly open, letting cold air crawl inside the house. Matteo shivered. To get there, they had to pass through the kitchen
and living room first.

The kitchen was easily the worst place yet. Dishes were piled everywhere, old bottles scattered across the counters, leftovers sitting out far too long. On the left, he
spotted mold and flies hovering over food that looked so disgusting someone would have to pay him a lot to even touch it. There went his hunger for today.

As they moved further, his eyes landed on the man from yesterday. The same one. He was lying on the ground now, completely still.

Asleep, Matteo hoped.

“shit” He heard Alex whisper.

Then Matteo looked at the sofa.

The woman was barely clothed, wearing only a bra and a small skirt that clearly wasn’t her size. It looked old, like something from her younger years she refused to let
die. Fabric stretched in the wrong places, memories clinging to it more than style.

The problem wasn’t just how she looked.

She was wide awake.

Her eyes locked onto both Alex and Matteo.

“Alexander?” She said with a raspy voice. You could barely hear it. Her voice sounded damaged, worn down by too many nights like this.

Alex didn’t answer. He didn’t look angry or stressed. Just ashamed. Completely and deeply ashamed.

Her gaze slid over to Matteo, who instinctively tried to hide behind Alex a little.

“Oh my, what a young thing I took home last night.” His mother said.

She stood up and walked toward Matteo. He froze. His body refused to react. Alex dragged a hand over his face and sighed, exhausted.

“Did you had fun last night~?" The women said winking.

“Mom he’s a friend of mine.” Alex said pushing the women slowly.

“Oh well a friend of Alexander is a friend of mine.” She said, now barely thouching Matteo with her hands.

Matteo felt sick. His skin crawled.

“Jesus, cmon Matt were leaving.” Alex said while grabbing Matteo’s jacket.

“Bye my boys!” The women said while waving like a teenager.

Outside, the cold hit them immediately.

Alex was furious now. His face burned red, jaw clenched so hard Matteo thought his teeth might crack. Matteo felt horrible. Heavy. Guilty for reasons he couldn’t fully
explain.

If his mother is like that that what right do I have to run away from mine?

Where is his dad?

Did the women did these weird things before?

Questions exploded in his head, overlapping, crashing into each other until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the next began.

Alex stopped the second they were outside.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Alex said.

His face wasn’t angry anymore. It completely collapsed instead, like a wall giving up. His eyes filled instantly, his breathing uneven.

“Hey hey, its okay! You cant do anything could you? It was just a misunderstanding.” Matteo tried.

He gently lifted the side of Alex’s jacket and wiped the tears away from around his green eyes, careful, unsure, but sincere. He didn’t really know what to do, so he
looked around quickly and then pulled Alex into a hug.

Alex broke. He cried into Matteo’s shoulder, repeating the same words over and over.

“Sorry! I’m so so sorry!”

For what was he even apologizing?

Matteo held him tighter. For some reason, in that moment, standing outside a broken house with a broken boy in his arms, this was the happiest and safest he had
felt in a long time.

 

Nicole

Nicole didn’t know what to do.

Go home?

Call her father and mother back?

Every option felt wrong. She felt trapped inside her own head, thoughts looping without an exit.

Luckily, Noah’s mother had already let her parents know she was sleeping over. That at least bought her some time. But time didn’t stop thoughts.

Did they knew the news?

Did her brother told everything?

Would she admit it?

“Hey your parents wont know it anyways.” Vicky said.

“What do you mean?” Nicole answered.

They were walking toward the bus stop together. Sam had offered to drive them, but they’d decided to take the bus instead. Their houses were only about ten minutes
away by car, close enough that it didn’t feel worth the awkward silence.

“yeah if you look at the schools groupchat, people are saying a different story.” Vicky said, holding out her phone.

Nicole leaned in and scrolled. Messages flew past her eyes. Confusion. Wild guesses. Accusations. No one actually knowing what had happened.
And somehow, people were blaming everyone except girls. Interesting.

They just assumed a guy did it.

Vicky smiled when she saw Nicole’s face light up. Most people thought Ilyano and his friend got into a fight. Knowing Ilyano, he wouldn’t deny it.

“haha loser, imaging having to pretend your friend beat you up bc your to pusy to admit it was a girl.” Nicole said proudly.

Vicky let out a long breath, relief flooding her face. She was glad no one at school was going to find out the truth.

Or so she thought.

At the bus stop, Vicky pulled Nicole into a tight hug.

“Thank you” She added.

Then she stepped onto her bus and waved one last time. Nicole waved back, smiling despite everything.

As soon as Vicky was gone, the cold crept in. Nicole hadn’t noticed it before. Funny how warmth disappears the moment you’re alone.

She stared down the road, looking for the bus.

Instead, she saw her father’s car.

It sped up the moment he spotted her.

“Nicole!!! Her brother said, Get in quick!”

Nicole climbed in, stunned. Her brother was sitting in the back, her father behind the wheel.

“Nicole, my baby we were worried sick! What happened?” her father said. He looked exactly like always—clean cut hair, striped hemd, skinny jeans. Just normal dad
clothing. Normal dad energy.

“Oh yeah I have a lot to tell you guys! Something happened to Vicky.” Nicole said with her hands in the air.

“Oh no not Vicky! She’s my favorite one of your weird friends!” Her brother said.

“Hey that’s not nice Elijah! Go on sweetheart.” Her father said.

Elijah rolled his eyes.

Nicole explained what happened, carefully. Strategically. She left out the parts that would change everything—the beating, the bathroom, the girl. Both her father and
Elijah looked shocked, sympathetic, angry on Vicky’s behalf.

The car ride felt too short.

At home, they kept asking questions. Details. Clarifications.

Nicole answered, smiling, nodding, lying where she had to.

She just hoped Elijah wouldn’t hear anything else at school on Monday. He was two years younger, but that didn’t matter.

Rumors never wait for Monday.

She could already hear it changing

 

Ahmed

Ahmed spent the rest of the time just in his room. Blasting music on the highest he can. The kind of volume that makes the walls vibrate and drowns out every
possible thought. He played anything he could find from fried by fluoride, rebzyyx, and other sad, hateful songs that sounded more like screaming than music. Songs
that didn’t try to comfort him. Songs that understood him.

While listening to the music, he mostly just closed his eyes.

At first.

He lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling through half-shut eyes, the bass hitting his chest like a second heartbeat. Too fast. Too loud. His head felt full,
overcrowded, like thoughts were stacking on top of each other with nowhere to go. He tried to focus on the lyrics, but they blurred together. Anger. Pain. Self-hate. It
all sounded the same.

His fingers curled into the fabric of his blanket.

Then he sat up.

He didn’t know why. His body just couldn’t stay still anymore. He grabbed the first thing he could reach and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a dull crack
and dropped to the floor. The sound barely registered. It wasn’t enough.

He stood up, pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. His room suddenly felt too small, the air too thick. Every step made his chest tighter. His thoughts started racing,
no order, no mercy.

Why am I like this?

Why can’t I just be normal ?

Why does everything feel wrong?

He kicked a chair. It scraped loudly across the floor, slamming into his desk. Something fell over. He didn’t look to see what it was. He didn’t care.

Ahmed dragged his hands through his hair, pulling hard, like he was trying to rip the thoughts out of his skull. His breathing got faster, uneven, shallow. The music
kept screaming, but now it felt like it was inside his head instead of coming from the speakers.

He laughed suddenly.

It came out wrong. Too sharp. Too empty.

“Pathetic,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he said it out loud or only thought it.

His chest burned. His throat tightened like he was about to cry, but nothing came. No tears. Just pressure. Just this horrible, heavy feeling sitting right behind his ribs.
He hated that part the most. When he wanted to break down completely but his body refused to give him the relief.

He slammed his fist against the wall.

Pain shot up his arm, finally something real, something he could feel clearly. He did it again. Harder. The wall didn’t move. Nothing ever did.

Ahmed slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. His knees were pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them like that could
somehow hold him together. The music was still loud, still aggressive, but now it felt distant, muffled by the ringing in his ears.

His thoughts slowed, not because they were gone, but because they were heavier now.

Everyone would be better without me.

I ruin everything.

I don’t belong anywhere.

He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He wished he could disappear into the noise, dissolve into the music until there was nothing left of him to feel

this way.
For the first time, his shoulders started shaking.

This time, he couldn’t stop it.
He needed more than just a punch.

 

Emma

The groupchat started acting weird.

Not loud-weird. Not chaotic. Just… off. Messages popping up and disappearing again, people replying half, using inside jokes she didn’t understand. They were
talking about some Atiligan meeting. Whatever that was. It felt intentional, like they weren’t trying to hide that it existed, but also didn’t want her to know too much
about it.

“should we invite Emma?” one message read.

Emma’s stomach tightened instantly.

Why wouldn’t they?

She scrolled up, reread the messages, trying to find context she had missed. There wasn’t any. Just fragments. Names. Laughing emojis that suddenly felt sharp
instead of friendly. She tried searching it up—Atiligan, the meeting, anything—but nothing came up.

“text in the Atiligan group about this stuff Robin!” the respond was.

So there was another groupchat.

Emma stared at her screen for a second longer than necessary. She told herself not to overthink it. People had side chats all the time. It didn’t have to mean anything.
Still, curiosity gnawed at her.

She typed, then deleted. Typed again.
Just a simple message. Casual. Normal.

“help what yall talking bout?”

She sent it.

And waited.

Nothing.

The chat stayed quiet in a way that felt loud. Messages read. No responses. Emma put her phone down, picked it back up, refreshed the screen. Still nothing.

 

Then suddenly, a new message appeared.
From an account she had never seen before.

“who’s this newbie?”

Her heart skipped.

Others responded quickly, luckily, like they were covering for her.

But then—

“Wait, Emma Brown? From Pyut middelschool?”

 

Emma froze.

Her fingers went numb first. Then her chest. Like someone had pressed pause on her body but not on her thoughts. She reread the message once. Twice. A third time,
hoping the letters would rearrange themselves into something harmless.

They didn’t.

Pyut middel school.

Her vision blurred at the edges. That name wasn’t supposed to exist here. It belonged to another version of her. Another life.
One she had buried so deep she almost believed it never happened.

Someone here knew.

Someone recognized her.

Her breath caught in her throat. Suddenly the room felt too small, the air too thin. Her phone felt heavy in her hand, like it was dragging her down.

No.

No no no no.

Her mind spiraled backward without asking permission.

Locked bathroom stalls.

Whispers behind her back.

Her phone buzzing nonstop until she turned it off completely.

That sick, dropping feeling when she realized something private—something she had trusted someone with—was no longer hers.

She had trusted him.

She had believed him when he said no one would ever see it. When he said it was just between them. When he said he loved her.

And then suddenly everyone knew.

She remembered the looks. The way teachers avoided her eyes.

The way people stared like she had done something disgusting instead of something human. She
remembered going home early.
Changing schools. Promising herself that no one here would ever find out.

Her breathing sped up, shallow and uneven. She pressed her hand against her chest like that could force her heart to slow down.

Please don’t let them say it.

Please don’t let them know.

Her phone buzzed again.

She didn’t open it.

Her hands were shaking now. Her ears rang softly, like static. Heat crawled up her neck, burning with shame she thought she had left behind. It felt unfair, cruel, that something from then could still reach her. That it could still hurt her this much.

She slid down against the wall until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled close. Her thoughts tangled into each other, panic layering over panic.

What if they tell everyone?

What if they already know?

What if this is why they didn’t want to invite me?

Her chest tightened painfully. She tried to breathe in deep, but it felt like her lungs refused to cooperate. Every inhale was cut short, every exhale shaky. Tears welled
up before she could stop them, blurring her vision completely now.

She covered her mouth with her hand, afraid of making noise. Afraid that even the sound of her breathing would give her away.

She had changed schools to escape this.

To be normal again.

To be safe.

And now it felt like the past had followed her anyway.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 Vicky
Matteo

Matteo felt it before he saw it.

Eyes on them.
Staring into their souls.
Intent. Like fingers pressing into his back, straight through skin and muscle, right into his spine. He didn’t dare turn his head. His body had gone rigid the moment Alex wrapped his arms around him. Not because he didn’t want it—because for a second, being held like that felt dangerously close to safe.

Too safe.

When Alex’s breathing finally slowed and evened out, Matteo carefully pulled away, as if sudden movement might shatter something fragile between them. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.

“So,” Matteo said, forcing casualness into his voice, “did you actually sell anything last night?”

“Yes, I did, surprisingly!” Alex replied with a grin. “I can’t remember to who though…”

While Alex frowned in thought, Matteo finally allowed himself to look around the streets.

The air felt wrong. The place that had felt normal just minutes ago now buzzed with something thick and uncomfortable. His eyes flicked to the busstop again.

Empty.

But he knew what he had seen.

He hadn’t dreamed it. Emily had been standing right there, across from the window, staring straight in with wild, unblinking eyes. Her phone held up, angled just right. Filming. Not the window downstairs—the one here. Alex’s room.

The thought made his stomach twist.

“Does Emily live close by?” Matteo asked suddenly.

Alex looked at him, confused.
“Why are you asking me that?”

“She waited at the bus station for you last time I slept here,” Matteo said, his mind still racing. “Wouldn’t it be awkward if you saw her every morning on the bus?”

“I guess so, but normally her parents drive her. Her siblings always go by car,” Alex said. “She just went with the bus for no reason.”

No reason.

Yeah. Right.

“Okay,” Matteo said. “Good. That’s a relief.”

“Matt, do you want to do homework at your place?” Alex asked. “I really don’t feel like failing. I’ve got, like, three tests.”

Matteo’s heart sank.

He couldn’t just say it. He couldn’t say I don’t have a home. He couldn’t say I ran away or I sleep in an abandoned house with no electricity or water. He swallowed hard.

“Uhhh… I need to go to the gang, you know…” Matteo said. It wasn’t even a lie.

“Oh right!” Alex reached into his pockets, pulling out crumpled bills. Some were dirty. Some were wrinkled almost beyond recognition.
“This is everything I sold last night,” he said. “Here’s the bag with the ones I didn’t. I’m still new to this. So… do I need to go with you?”

Matteo froze.

He knew the answer. And he hated it.

He didn’t want Alex there. He remembered Elian too clearly. How things had gone wrong. How fast everything had fallen apart. He didn’t want Alex anywhere near that world.

But he didn’t really have a choice.

“Uhh… yeah,” Matteo said. “But we can just go in and out.”

“Alright!” Alex said easily.

“Also, we need to walk to the party house first,” Matteo added. “My motorcycle is still there. You can hop on behind me, and then we’ll go to the gang.”

As he said it, Matteo tried not to think about one thing.

Liam.

He hoped—really hoped—Liam wouldn’t be there.

And if he was, that he wouldn’t say weird shit.

 

Nicole

Vicky added Nicole to the school group chat.

Normally, Nicole hated those chats. Endless spam. Stupid jokes. People talking just to hear themselves talk. But now, she stayed. She needed to see what people were saying.

And they did not disappoint.

“Omg Cas definitely beat up Ilyano, but idk why guys!”
“I heard it was because he beat up a girl for no reason.”

Nicole’s fingers tightened around her phone.

Were they talking about Vicky?

She didn’t want rumors starting about Vicky too. But responding wasn’t really an option.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that too. I have a video of the night where he punched a ginger girl.”

Shit.

A video.

If someone had filmed her and Ilyano, she was done for.

Then the video was uploaded.

Twenty-seven seconds. Horrible quality. Shaky. You could see a guy dancing, laughing, before the camera shifted. And there it was—clear enough.

Ilyano’s hands all over Vicky.

Even with the bad quality, you could see it. The way Vicky stiffened. The fear. The discomfort. And then—fast, brutal—him screaming something and punching her. Twice.

Nicole felt sick.

Now the video was everywhere.

Vicky was in the group chat too. Nicole’s chest tightened. She hated attention. This must’ve been hell for her.

But surprisingly… people were supportive.

“Omg poor girl!! She didn’t even do anything. Men.”
“Gosh, Ilyano got what he deserved!!!”
“Cas is a real one.”
“Imagine hitting a woman.”
“Omg she’s in my class!! She’s super sweet!”

Hundreds of messages like that.

Not once did someone mention Nicole.

“@vicky_peak are you okay girly?”

“Yes, I’m all good, don’t worry about me! Tysm for everyone’s messages!”

The chat exploded again.

People wanted details. Explanations. Stories. Vicky answered what she could. She didn’t hide the fact that she was trans.

Not once did anyone care.

How weird.

Normally, people would’ve torn her apart. But now? Acceptance. Even from the guys. Nicole didn’t know how to feel about it.

Vicky was the topic now.

“If he didn’t want her, I sure as hell do.”

Nicole stared at that message.

That would definitely boost Vicky’s self-esteem.

So why didn’t Nicole feel happy?

God. She felt disgusting. Selfish. Only thinking about how badly she wanted Vicky for herself.

She texted her privately. Asked if she was okay. Asked if she wanted to hang out.

Then she dropped her phone onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.

Minutes passed. Felt like hours.

No message came through.

 

Ahmed

He heard the door click.

The sound was small, barely anything, but it sliced straight through him.

Shit.

For a split second, his body went into panic mode. His mind raced through possibilities before logic could catch up. Baran? His mother? Someone he didn’t want to see him like this?

He grabbed the first thing he could find—a big gray hoodie—and pulled it over his head, hiding himself inside it like fabric could erase him.

“Ahmed?” a high voice called.

Mariah.

Relief flooded his chest so fast it almost hurt.

Thank God.

No—actually, screw God. If God existed, He wouldn’t have made him like this.

Ahmed didn’t answer. His stomach growled, loud enough to annoy him. Hunger always hit at the worst times.

He stepped out of his room slowly. Mariah was sitting on the couch, legs tucked under her, tablet balanced on her knees. She looked tired in that careless way kids did after staying up too late.

“Oh, you’re here!” she said brightly. “Had a nice party?”

“Hmm… kinda,” Ahmed replied. “You?”

“Oh yeah! It was really fun! We were with five and slept all in the same bed!”

“Oh wow,” he said. “Didn’t have much sleep, huh.”

He didn’t look at her. He focused on opening cupboards, grabbing food, anything that gave his hands something to do. He really tried sounding normal, which wasnt really hard since he never was happy or talkitive anyways.

“Well, I don’t really remember a lot of what happened at night though… I was really tired.”

Lucky.

“You didn’t drink, did you?” Ahmed asked, frowning.

“What? I’m eleven?” Mariah said, looking up at him like he was stupid.

“Oh. Right. Just making sure…”

He gathered his food and retreated to his room like he always did.

The apartment was quiet.
It always was.
His mom worked herself into exhaustion, and when she was home, she was usually too tired to talk.

 

Sometimes Ahmed tried to remember his father. It never worked. He never even knew him.
His stepfather had left too—right after Mariah was born.

What he did remember was his mother crying at night. Quietly, but constantly. Losing weight. Losing sleep. Losing hope.

They moved to a cheaper apartment. Ahmed hadn’t minded. He never had friends anyway.

At five years old, he met Leo.

That was the closest thing he had to a childhood.

Still, most of his childhood felt empty. Baran started working young, leaving Ahmed alone with Mariah. He hated his mother for that sometimes. She should’ve never had another kid.

But then Mariah would laugh. Or smile at him like he was her entire world.

And the thought disappeared.

They were inseparable.

Ahmed barely spoke, but Mariah understood him anyway.

He raised her. Or tried to. Mostly she watched YouTube while he cooked or sat in his room doing nothing.

When their mom was around, it wasn’t easy. She was strict. Always stressed. Muslim. When Mariah turns thirteen, their mom wants her to wear a hijab. Mariah doesn't want to. There was no discussion.

Baran agreed.

Ahmed obeyed.

Being Muslim was the right option. The only option.

But did he believe?

If this was faith—why did he feel so wrong inside his own body?

Why was he like this?

 

Emma

A black-haired girl, now with snake bites, lay on her bed with her head pressed into her pillow.

She didn’t cry. She physically couldn’t anymore.
Whatever tears she had were already spent, drained sometime during the night.
But fear didn’t need tears to exist. It sat heavy in her chest, sharp and constant.

Her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

Message after message after message.

This is it, she thought. This is the end.

When she finally forced herself to look, her hands were shaking.

 

The school group chat had exploded.

Not her new friend group.

She exhaled shakily.

She had panicked for nothing.

The messages weren’t about her.
Not her name. Not her past. Not that school.

If she just pretended it never happened—if she kept acting like that version of herself didn’t exist—maybe she could survive this.

“Okay so when we meeting up today?” one message read.

Lucille.

Emma recognized the profile picture immediately. Quiet girl. Was there, wasn't loud. Almost invisible, but in a comforting way. Very basic looking despite her friendgroup.

“Around 3 pm in the park right?” another message said.

Enzo.

Someone she hadn’t met yet. Art as a profile picture. Interesting.

There were going to be so many people she hadn’t seen before.

Luckily, Emma didn’t have social anxiety. If anything, distraction helped. She actually found herself looking forward to it.

The school chat was still spawning. She scrolled again.

Her chest tightened.

She hadn’t imagined it. She hadn’t dreamed it. She knew Nicole did it. Not Cas. Nicole.

She could still see her face. Her hands. Bloody. Shaking.

Emma started typing. Her fingers hovered over the screen.

Then she stopped.

This wasn’t her story to tell. Starting drama would only drag attention back to her. And she had been drunk too. Maybe she could be wrong.

But deep down, she knew she wasn’t.

No one invents an image like that about someone they barely know.

Still, she erased the message.

She got dressed quickly and went downstairs.

Then it hit her.

Oh shit.

Her piercings.

She froze when she saw her mother’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. Emma was just standing there, toothbrush in hand, trying to act normal.

Her mother looked up.

The smile vanished instantly.

Her face dropped.

Then screaming.

 

Emma had known this would happen.
She had prepared herself for it.
She didn’t care.
She wanted this—wanted something that was hers for once—so she accepted the screaming as part of the deal.

“TAKE THEM OUT”

 

What? Is she crazy? She knew her mother was gonna go crazy but taking them out?

“No.”

Emma didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t have to. The word sat between them like a stain that wouldn’t come out.

Her mother smiled.

It wasn’t a warm smile. It was the kind people use when they already know they’re going to win.

“Ah,” she said softly. “So this is what we’re doing now.”

Emma’s fingers curled around the porcelain sink. She kept her eyes on the mirror. On her mouth. On the metal. If she looked at her mother, she’d feel small again.

“You always do this,” her mother continued, voice calm, measured. “You get these phases. Remember the last one?”

Emma’s stomach dropped.

“Don’t,” she muttered.

Her mother ignored that. Of course she did.

“New clothes. New friends. New attitude. And look how well that ended.”

The words slid under Emma’s skin.

“That school,” her mother went on, pretending to tidy something on the counter, “was very patient with you. Too patient, if you ask me.”

Emma’s heartbeat thudded in her ears. She could already feel it — the heat in her face, the familiar spiral.

“It wasn’t my fault,” she said, quietly.

Her mother hummed. “Funny. That’s not what people said.”

Emma finally looked at her.

Her mother met her gaze easily. Almost kindly.

“You do have a talent for attracting trouble, Emma. And then acting surprised when it follows you.”

Silence.

“You send the wrong signals,” her mother added. “Always have. And now you’re advertising it on your face.”

Emma felt sick.

“That has nothing to do with—”

“Everything has to do with it,” her mother cut in. “People don’t just do things for no reason. You should know that by now.”

The implication hung heavy. Sticky. Intentional.

Emma’s nails dug into her palms. She forced herself to breathe. In. Out.

“You promised,” she said. “You said we wouldn’t talk about that anymore.”

Her mother sighed, like Emma was exhausting.

“I promised I wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t repeat the behavior.”

Emma laughed once. A broken sound.

“So existing is repeating it now?”

Her mother’s eyes hardened.

“Don’t twist my words. I’m trying to protect you. Clearly you can’t do that yourself.”

She stepped closer, close enough that Emma could smell her perfume.

“Take them out,” she said again, softly. “Before people start remembering things.”

That did it.

Emma felt something snap — not loudly, but cleanly.

“You already do,” she said. “You never let me forget.”

For a moment, her mother said nothing.

Then, quietly:

“Well. Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Emma stared at her reflection. At the girl who survived. At the girl who was still being punished for it.

And suddenly, the piercings weren’t rebellion.

They were proof she was still here.

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

 

Matteo
After going to the house of the party to get his motorcycle, they hopped on and began riding towards the gang. Matteo gave Alex his helmet since he only had one.
If the cops saw them, they would be cooked, no doubt about it, not with the speed he was driving and the way his hands slightly trembled on the handlebars.

Alex wasn’t scared at all, Matteo barely felt him clinging to his waist, only the faint pressure of his arms, loose but steady, like he trusted Matteo completely. Matteo
felt so scared the whole ride, his chest tight, his breathing shallow, praying that Liam was either blacked out or just not there, anywhere but there, anywhere else in
the world.

When they arrived, he knocked on the door. The sound felt louder than it should’ve been. Alex was silently watching him while he fixed his hair, fingers combing
through it again and again like it could somehow protect him or make him look less nervous.

It wasn’t Jeah who opened this time. Xavier, a guy with barely any teeth, white guy with black under his eyelids and a receding hairline opened instead. The smell of
smoke and old alcohol slipped past him as the door opened wider.

Xavier looked 40 but he actually wasn’t much older than Liam, who was 24, and that made it worse somehow, like this place aged people faster than normal life ever
could.

“Ah Matt, you’re here late…” Xavier said while not looking him in the eyes. He was looking at Alex, who was standing behind Matteo, his gaze lingering too long, like
he was already making assumptions.

Matteo got in and searched for Jeah. She was the one that led this whole thing. Not the actual thing but this tiny town was hers to rule, and everyone in this room knew
it, even if they never said it out loud.

Alex barely kept up with Matteo while trying to catch a glimpse of the inside of the building, his head turning in small, careful movements. It was like a big living
room, with a kitchen and couch. Except there were a lot of tables and closets, shoved against the walls, filled with things Alex didn’t want to think too much about.
The walls had some mold, dark stains creeping near the corners, but overall it looked decent, in the way something dangerous often does.

“Oh pretty boy, who’s your friend? Is he the guy Ahmed told me about?” A low voice said, lazy and confident.

Shit. Liam.

“uh yeah this is Alex” Matteo said slow, his throat suddenly dry.

“Didn’t ask but okay” He said while looking Alex up and down, his eyes moving slowly, deliberately.

Alex swallowed because of his scary appearance, his fingers curling slightly at his sides.

“So you’re the wuss that only does vapes right?” Liam then said.

Matteo could feel anger filling him up, hot and sharp, pressing against his ribs. He was so uncomfortable about them meeting, about the way Liam spoke, about the
way he looked at Alex like he already owned him.

“Ah uhh yeah…” Alex said.

Liam spectated his whole body and face, circling him, steps slow, boots scraping softly against the floor.

“Does that mullet get you any pussy or do you just get it for the fun of it?”

Matteo took his fingers to his brows and sighed. He knew he would say weird stuff, what did he expect, this was Liam after all.

Alex actually laughed and didn’t show any type of uncomfort, which somehow made Matteo even more nervous.

“haha my ex actually broke up with me yesterday.” He said like they had been friends for 5 years, like this was a normal conversation in a normal room.

“Maybe you should go bald like me then. All the ladies loveee me.” Liam said with his creepy smile he always had.

“Right Matteo?” He said while now looking at him with big grey eyes that never blinked.

Matteo didn’t respond and looked away, his jaw tightening, his teeth pressing together.

“Haha why are you acting so shy?” Liam said while putting his left arm around Matteo’s shoulder and grabbed Matteo’s face with his other, forcing him to look at him.
His fingers were cold, his grip just a little too tight.

Alex just watched like it was normal, but his posture betrayed him, stiff and alert.

“Haven’t I giving you enough attention lately? Is that why you’re so hard to get.” Liam said with a forced smile. It creeped Matteo out. Everything about him did. It
reminded him of everything he did, images flashing through his mind without warning. He had done at least every form of bad thing you can imagine. Matteo didn’t
really know how to respond. He knew he couldn’t say what he thought, nor what he wanted. He just had to joke or not take it seriously.

“pfff ive been busy Liam, look” He said while opening his bag, hands moving faster than he liked.

The bag was filled with money and leftovers. Some were in an envelope, some dirty literally and figuratively, crumpled bills sticking together.

“hmmm oh wow. Didn’t expect much more from my favorite.” Liam said while squeezing Matteo’s left cheek again, harder this time.

Matteo was grossed out but didn’t show it. He couldn’t. He swallowed it down like he always did.

Alex was just standing there. He had stress, you could see it, in the way his shoulders were tense and his eyes kept flicking back to the door.

“what about you emo boy?”

Liam now stood right in front of Alex. Looking at him from below since he was much taller, invading his space completely.

Alex swallowed and also took his bag. The black bag opened and there was one envelope Alex put everything in safely. The leftover vapes were in there too, also
wrapped in plastic, carefully separated like he hoped that would make a difference.

“I was really drunk at the party…. I’m sorry I could’ve sold more…” He said looking down, his voice quieter now.

Liam took the envelope and counted the money slowly, deliberately making it last.

“Well its not that bad for just vapes but if you want to become my favorite you need to do more then that.” He said smirking.

Matteo had goosebumps all over his arms. He saw Liam taking some money and putting it in his pockets. He knew that wasn’t allowed. His heart started pounding
harder. But what could he do.

Jeah luckily walked in.

“Liam you idiot.” She said while fast walking towards him. Alex looked very confused seeing the pink-haired girl walking around with a knife in her hands. She had wild
hair and looked furious, like a storm you couldn’t stop. When she got to Liam, who hadn’t even moved, like he knew what was coming, she grabbed his neck with one
hand and put the knife underneath his throat.

“How many times do I need to tell you.”

 

Nicole

She was calling with Noah, he wrote some new songs.

Mainly about Emma. Damn, he wouldn’t stop talking about her. Every sentence somehow circled back to Emma—
her smile, her laugh, the way she apparently inspired lyrics without even trying. It was cute, really. The way his voice softened when he said her name, the way he
laughed at his own lines like he couldn’t believe he had written them. But it was also kind of annoying…. Nicole leaned back against her bed, phone pressed to her ear,
staring at the ceiling while he rambled on.

“Okay but listen to this part again,” Noah said excitedly.

She smiled, even though he couldn’t see it. “You already read it to me twice.”

“Yeah but this time I changed one word.”

She sighed softly. “Of course you did.”

After the call ended, the silence in her room felt heavier than before. Her phone buzzed again. Vicky had finally responded after an hour. The message was short.
Kinda dry. No emojis. No follow-up question. But nothing out of the ordinary either. Just enough to not seem rude.

After the call she didn’t know what to do. Like yes, she knew she should study—her books were literally staring at her from her desk—but she really didn’t want that.
Her brain felt tired in a way sleep wouldn’t fix. The feeling of knowing people could expose her didn’t really bother her a lot. That surprised even herself. She was
kinda used to it. Used to whispers, looks, assumptions. Used to being misunderstood and then blamed for it.

Her thoughts drifted back without warning.

She remembered her first and last boyfriend. His name was Henrik.

She never loved him. Not like that. She just wanted to be his friend. But when he asked her, standing there awkwardly with red ears and sweaty hands, she didn’t know
how to say no. Everyone was watching. Everyone expected her to say yes. So that’s how, in 4th grade, she had a boyfriend.

Things were going just as they were when they were regular friends. They talked, laughed, sat next to each other. People found them cute. Teachers smiled when they
saw them together. But after a year she knew something was wrong. She thought she should feel butterflies. She thought she should want to hold his hand, or miss
him when he wasn’t around. But she didn’t. She felt nothing. And the longer it went on, the more guilty she felt for it.

She broke up with him in a letter. Her hands had shaken while writing it. It simply read: were breaking up I’m sorry.

She remembered folding it carefully, like that would soften the words.

But the second he read it, his whole personality changed. As if she had killed something inside him. He became from the funny, kind and social guy into the depressed
guy with a terrible attitude. He stopped joking. Stopped smiling. Started staring at the floor. People whispered about him in class.

One time the teachers got into the class, their footsteps loud and serious. They asked Nicole to come with them. Nicole was stressing even though she hadn’t done
anything. Her heart was pounding, her hands cold. She kept replaying every small thing she had ever done wrong in her head.

They talked to her about how he didn’t want to go to school anymore. About how he was very sad and had no friends. Their voices were calm but sharp. Accusatory.
They blamed her for it all. She was the reason he was depressed.

She didn’t know what to do. She just stared at her shoes.

The teachers said that she shouldn’t play anything without him. As if she was a bully. As if she had planned this. As if she owed him her happiness. It was a weird
feeling she had, sitting there, nodding while something inside her twisted painfully. She was now seen as an emotionless heartbreaker.

After two months he got a bit better and joined her tiny friend group again. Back then she was friends with two boys and one girl. Henrik used to be part of the squad
too, but he stopped hanging out after the breakup. When he was back he still acted different. Quieter. Colder. Watching her too closely.

Then all of her friends stopped being friends with her.

She didn’t know what she did. But she knew Henrik said things behind her back. She could feel it in the way people looked at her, in the sudden silence when she sat
down. She was all alone. The teachers didn’t care at all.
After a week of being alone she heard Henrik say something. It wasn’t funny. Yet they all laughed. He was drinking chocolate milk and then said:

“look I’m drinking milk from Nicole’s mother.”

Everyone laughed.

Except Nicole.

That was the first time intense anger hit her. Real anger. Hot and uncontrollable. She didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate. She simply stood up from the table, walked
straight toward him and took the chocolate milk. Her hands moved on their own. She smashed the drink into his face.

Then intense fighting. Desks scraped. People shouted. She was winning. She was filled with rage—for the unfunny joke, for the humiliation, for the reason she was all alone. For everything she was blamed for but never did.

Teachers came and pulled them apart. When the teachers asked what happened, Henrik told them Nicole got jealous because everyone laughed at his joke. Nicole
couldn’t get the words out. Her throat felt closed. So she just simply said it wasn’t true.

The teachers only got mad at her.

They contacted her parents. Luckily her parents were smart enough to first ask for the whole story to Nicole herself. When they saw her crying, shaking, barely able to

breathe, they knew it wasn’t her fault.
After that she thought she would be alone until middle school. But that wasn’t the case.

Another African girl wanted to be her friend. She sat next to her one day without asking. She said that those jokes had been going on for too long. It pissed her off.
They were friends ever since. Just her and Nicole. A quiet understanding. No explanations needed.

In middle school they parted ways. Her friend became popular. Nicole—well, she was at least happy.

And right now, lying on her bed with her phone still warm in her hand, she wondered if that was enough.

 

Ahmed

 

Leo texted. He was still in his room, yet it felt like he was in the most stressful exam ever. His room felt too small, the walls too close, the silence too loud. His phone
lay next to him on the bed like a ticking bomb. He didn’t wanna respond, or even see the message. But he needed to explain himself. Avoiding it would only make it
worse.

“Hey Med, you okay?” The message said.

Geez. What should he answer. His fingers hovered over the screen, then pulled back. He really wanted to end things off, clean and final, so it would never happen
again. So Leo shouldn’t waste his time on him anymore. Leo didn’t deserve him at all. Leo deserved someone normal. Someone who didn’t wake up drowning in guilt.

“yes im okay, huge hangover I cant remember shit. Hope I didn’t do anything weird”

The lie needed to happen. His chest tightened as he sent it. He should pretend he didn’t remember. For Leo’s sake it was better. Leo might not remember either. Or at
least, Ahmed hoped so.

“damn not a single thing? You didn’t seem so drunk… I’m sorry I should’ve took you home… Next Friday don’t drink that much idiot.”

Oh no.

Leo blamed himself for it now. Fuck.

Ahmed sat up, running a hand through his hair, nails scratching his scalp. Leo must feel like he took advantage or something. He didn’t at all. Not even close. The
thought alone made Ahmed feel sick.

“No bro you good it wasn’t very smart, wont ever happen again”

He stared at the screen after sending it, hoping the words sounded casual enough. Ahmed hoped this made it clear that it was a drunk mistake. That it wouldn’t
happen again. That this was the end of it.

“Oh alr”

The short reply made his stomach drop anyway.

“did you knew there was a fight?” He then texted.

Ahmed smiled a little when Leo changed the subject. It calmed him a bit. Knowing Leo wouldn’t act any differently. That he wasn’t angry. That he wasn’t pushing.

“no? Like I said I was drunk for shits.”

“haha I didn’t knew either but Cas beated Ilyano after he attacked a girl.”

“I mean he probably had it coming, but from his own homie?”

 

“Yeah maybe there together now idk.”

Ahmed knew Ilyano and Cas both. He never saw them as one was worse. In his head they were both fake Christians who did bad stuff and then said it’s god’s will. Cas
must be a bit better then. Or just a huge simp for the girl.

“Oh and the girl is trans so maybe that’s why Ilyano did it in the first place.”

Ahmed frowned at those words. His smile faded instantly.

 

Trans? The fuck.

“What do you mean?”
“Like she was born a dude and is now a girl.”

 

“Ohhhhh okay that explains things tho.”

Ahmed would’ve done the same probably. The thought came fast and unfiltered. I mean imagine getting with a girl, only to find out it’s a guy. That must be
disgusting.

“Wdym?”

 

“I mean I wouldn’t want to get with a guy dressed as a girl either.”

The message sent. Immediately, something twisted in his stomach. But he pushed it away.

Leo didn’t respond for a while.

Ahmed stared at the typing bubble that never appeared. The silence stretched. The room felt colder. He said what he thought. People always did. That’s just how it
was.

“Well I guess thats everyone’s opinion.” It simply read.

Ahmed didn’t really know how to respond to that. Something about it felt final. Closed. Leo was the only guy he knew who thought like that. Probably because Leo has
two dads, he thought. That’s probably why he does accept different kinds of people.

Yet Leo never dared to say something when Martin made those kinds of jokes. But when they were alone, Leo actually dared to say his opinion.

It made Ahmed feel like Leo trusted him.

Leo doesn’t even tell people about his parents. That’s not so weird though, since the people who do know, treat him differently.

Baran was a great example.

He used to think Leo was just a nerd because of his glasses and height. But ever since he saw his parents, he didn’t want Ahmed hanging out with him anymore. A part
of Ahmed wanted to listen to him. Wanted the easy route. But that part disappeared every time he saw Leo smiling. That smile felt… real. Safe, almost.

Footsteps.

Ahmed froze.

Someone was here.

Ahmed took off his headphones to hear who it was. His heart started beating faster.

He didn’t just hear one pair of steps. No. There were at least five people.

Shit shit shit.

Not now.

Not here.

He heard voices: low manly voices and laughter coming from the living room. Loud. Confident. He could hear Miriah going into her room, her door closing fast.

Should he go look who they are? Say hi? Hide?

“HEY AHMED” Baran shouted.

Ahmed groaned under his breath and got up. With lousy feet he went to the living room, shoulders slumped, where four guys he had seen maybe once were sitting on
his couch. Like they owned the place.

They were around 25, maybe 30. He recognized them from the gang. Baran was part of the gang too and got Ahmed involved in it.

“Ah there he is! Everyone say hello to my little brother,” Baran said while putting an arm over Ahmed’s shoulder, pulling him close like a trophy.

Some dudes looked up and said “Jooo” or nodded.

“Did you sold anything last night? Or were you too busy getting hoes?” Baran barked.

Some guys laughed.

Ahmed rolled his eyes. “Not that much, it was a party not work.”

Baran laughed loudly.

“Ha you look like you stayed up all night, whose the lucky bitch you were with last night? Or is she still here? Haha.”

Ahmed could feel his face burning up. Shame and guilt flooded him, heavy and suffocating.
“tsss shut up. Imma sleep a bit so leave me alone.”

 

He walked away, heart pounding, while hearing Baran talking about him to his friends. About how his little brother is a huge player or something like that.

Ahmed’s chest felt so heavy he could barely walk.

He flopped on his bed and did nothing.

Nothing at all.

 

Emma

The screaming and lecturing went on for about forty minutes until she had to go again. Thank goodness. Emma was used to it, yet she still felt a lump in her throat,
like words were stuck there forever. Like she wasn’t allowed to defend herself.

The lump loosened when the chat was very excited and everyone was already going to the hangout place. The house of Aure. The coquette girl with blonde wavy hair
and shiny blue eyes. She was the loudest and definitely the most popular.

Despite Emma’s fury and sadness about what just happened, she still really wanted to go.

So she did.

 

She looked the place up. Around twenty minutes with her bike. Not too far. Just far enough to breathe.

She put on a dark blue henley top with low-rise jeans. An Adidas jacket over it. Her Converse. Simple, but she felt good in it. She took her mom’s electric bike and
rode away.

While riding, she listened to music. Marina. Daisy and the Scouts. The music wrapped around her thoughts, softening the sharp edges.

She felt a tiny bit nervous about the whole “Lucille thing.” But she knew how to play pretend. She always did.

After fifteen minutes she arrived a bit early. Seeing Aure already waiting outside made it better. Aure waved heavily while walking toward her and gave her a tiny, quick
hug.

Her house was a villa. Not huge, but obviously expensive.

“Omg hey girly so glad you’re here!!” Aure said.

“Yeah ofc!! Thanks for inviting me. Also you look stunning!” Emma said, genuinely smiling.

“Thanks I know,” Aure replied, striking a pose and doing a duck face.

Emma giggled.

A car suddenly arrived, almost hitting them. They jumped aside as a red BMW parked aggressively.

Stepping out were the two guys from the bus, a girl she hadn’t seen before, and an emo guy, also new.

“Joo Aure,” the driver said. Brown short hair. A weird bowl cut. Really bad. His clothes screamed this town: black, baggy, way too low pants, Nike Tech sweater. He
didn’t fit the friend group at all.

Behind him was the other guy. Identical. Except shorter and ginger. Thankfully without that haircut.

The other girl was talking while walking. And then Emma saw her.

Lucille.

The one from Puyt middle school.

She looked annoyed when the guys ignored her. Emma’s stomach dropped slightly.

After her, a guy with a full-on emo look got out of the car. Black hair. Pale skin. Eyeliner. Skinny ripped jeans. A black jacket half open with a band shirt underneath.
Belts. Bracelets. Everything.

This friend group is so random, Emma thought.

 

After them the gyaru girl and someone else arrived.

The group was complete.

The vibe was chaotic. Everyone talking. Laughing. Shouting over each other. Overwhelming in a good way.

After ten minutes of small talk they went inside.

Inside the house, it was weirdly decorated. So many colors. A strange smell of flowers mixed with something earthy. Plants everywhere. Symbols. Statues. Candles.

Emma assumed they were from a religion she didn’t know much of.

They all sat on the sofa. Aure went to get drinks while everyone bombarded Emma with questions.

“where ya from?”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Is your school fun?”

“Where did you buy your pants?”

“where did you get those snake bites?”

She answered them all honestly. The vibe felt good.

Except from one girl.

Lucille.

She kept giving her flirty, judging looks. Emma felt them crawl over her skin. Lucille was also the one who knew about her middle school. Unfortunately, she seemed
like the type to tell everyone.

Emma could see right through her. A girl who needed attention. A girl who would change herself for a guy. A girl who would betray all her female friends just to have a
chance with a guy.

Those people annoyed her. A lot.

Everyone else was super sweet.

The night passed with drinking, a store run for snacks, karaoke, endless talking.

When she saw her mom had called six times, she knew it was time to leave.

Before she did, the gyaru girl asked her a very interesting question.

“Are you interested in a close-knit spiritual group?”

Emma blinked. A what now?

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s nothing special… Just a group to make people feel better. With spirits who help us understand each other and our planet. You can just look. We go every Sunday.
If you want to come, I can add you to the group chat.”

Emma didn’t know what to say.

And somehow, that scared her more than saying yes.