Chapter 7
Mozart flows through my fingers until a misplaced note shatters the melody. I wince, drawing the bow back to start again. Music is the one place I can't afford mistakes— not if I want that scholarship to stay mine.
"Oh my God, are you torturing that giant violin again?" Kiah crashes onto her bed like a tornado. She’s in her combat boots and her hair is now purple. My roommate is fearless, wild, unapologetically herself. Sometimes I envy that freedom because I may have a snarky mouth on me, but I control my impulses.
"You actually dyed it purple?" I ask, looking at it.
She bounces her hair around. "I love it."
"And this is a cello," I correct her, but can't help smiling. "And this torture is what's keeping me in school."
"All work and no play makes Lola a very boring girl." She sprawls across her sheets, bracelets jangling. "When's the last time you left this room for something other than class?"
"When I went to lunch with you," I joke, rolling my eyes.
She chuckles, "Girl, that was Tuesday."
I carefully set my cello aside because she has no idea who she’s talking to. I may be hardworking and passionate, but I know how to have fun. I raise my brows at her and say, "I have fun."
"Right because saying no to Devon’s party invite is so fun of you."
"Maybe because I have more important things to do. It’s the first weekend of the school year, and I’m sure there’ll be a million more parties for me to attend, okay?" I huff, reaching for my bag— the invitation slips out, that cream-colored paper that's been haunting me all day.
Kiah jumps off her bed and snatches it before I can move. Her eyes go wide. "Holy shit! An actual Reaper party?" She bounces on the bed like an excited kid. "Maybe you are fun, and I had no idea. Please, please tell me that 'plus one' has my name on it."
The invitation feels like a live wire, dangerous and tempting. Part of me wants to grab it back, tear it up, and pretend it never existed. But I do wonder who the hell put it in my bag and why they invited me––of all people.
"I never said I was going. Honestly, I don't even know how it got there." I take the invitation back, fingers tracing the expensive paper. "It just... appeared in my bag."
"What! With your name on it? Lola, that's even better!" Kiah bounces up, eyes gleaming. "Someone's noticed you. Someone important. A Reaper!"
"I doubt it was anyone important," I mutter, but my mind’s racing with ideas of who it could’ve been. There were a few guys in my music comp class. But I don’t know what the hell a Reaper is.
"Girl, nobody gets a Reaper invitation with their name on it! It’s usually just word of mouth… someone high up has their eyes on you."
"High up? That’s so creepy." I shake my head, fixing my books.
"Or hot? Someone with power." Kiah holds up her hand like a crossing guard. "Okay. We have to go. Oh, what are you going to wear? How about that black dress buried in your closet— the one you're saving to look hot at some funeral."
I roll my eyes, thinking about how I was a little excited for Levi’s call tonight. "God, Kiah—"
"I’m going to get ready. And you, put that dress on!"
I laugh. "So, I should risk getting murdered by the mysterious party-inviter for… you?"
"No." Kiah flops back dramatically. "You will be with me, your very protective roommate, and I’ll be your wing woman to hook up with whoever slipped that invitation into your bag."
The invitation seems to pulse in my hands. My mom always said my curiosity would get me in trouble someday.
Looks like today might be that day.
"Come on." Kiah’s eyes sparkle with mischief. "Don't you want to know who's watching you? Who thought you were interesting enough to invite?"
Watching me? Yes, I want to know. Need to know. Dying to know. Who and why.
My stomach flutters at the thought. It's terrifying and thrilling at the same time, like the moment before a performance. This feeling in my gut is a lot more tempting than Levi’s phone call. Maybe I should feed into it.
"The black dress?" The word comes out barely above a whisper. "Okay. Wait, what about Devon’s party?"
She dismisses that with a hand gesture. "He’ll get over it. I much rather do this."
"Okay," I say. "Then let’s get ready."
Kiah nods excitedly, her eyes gleaming. "Let’s get railed tonight, girl!"
Kiah's closet explodes across our room like a fashion hurricane. My black dress makes my breath catch— black silk against my skin, falling just above my knees. The girl in the mirror looks very hoe-some. The perfect way to attract the creep who secretly invited me to this party instead of handing it to me like a gentleman. Maybe tonight I might do more than kiss a stranger.
I apply makeup, trading my usual natural palette for something bolder. The smokey eye tutorial takes three tries, but eventually, I create something that makes my eyes look huge and mysterious. My hair goes up in a twisted bun, a few loose curls framing my face like notes escaping from a score.
"Holy shit." Kiah's whistle cuts through my concentration. "You clean up nice, Mozart."
I smooth my hands down the silk, fighting the urge to change back into jeans and hide behind my cello. The dress feels like permission to be a hoe— someone who takes risks, who doesn't plan every moment of her life around practice schedules and grade point averages. I used to be that girl who partied until I realized my future would look a lot like my mother’s if I kept it up.
"I'm not looking for the guy," I say to her as she disappears into the bathroom. Just like in high school, everyone seems obsessed with coupling up, while I'm busy dreaming of concert halls and standing ovations.
"Stop overthinking." Kiah shrugs into her jacket.
I fidget with my purse strap. "I just... these people aren't exactly fucking nice or welcoming. Blackridge has been a bunch of rich snobs. Tonight at the party will be no different." It’s hard to say aloud that I do not fit in.
"Trust me, they're not going to be giving you swirlies in the bathroom." She grabs my shoulders. "Though you might want to watch out for the bedrooms upstairs. I won’t leave your side though until you tell me too."
"The Reapers— what are they exactly?" The name alone sends a chill down my spine.
Kiah stares at me like I've just said I've never heard of Mozart. "Seriously? How do you not know about—" She shakes her head. "Never mind. You'll see soon enough. Let’s go."
The Uber ride feels endless. I watch the campus lights fade behind us, replaced by sprawling estates that make my trailer park childhood seem like a different planet. The house that comes into view is massive, all stone and shadows against the night sky.
"Ready for an unforgettable night?" Kiah squeezes my hand as we step out.
Before I can answer, a figure materializes from the darkness. Tall, dressed in a black robe, holding an actual scythe. The mask turns toward us— a twisted version of the Grim Reaper.
My hand shakes as I hold out the invitation. "She's with me," I say quickly, pulling Kiah closer. "My plus one."
The mask stares back, silent and judging.
A slight nod, and we're inside. More masked figures line the halls like living statues, their presence making the opulent house feel more like a gothic cathedral. Crystal chandeliers catch the light, throwing fractured rainbows across marble floors.
"Drinks?" Kiah is already moving, her eyes tracking a group of guys by the stairs.
Even here, surrounded by wealth that makes my head spin, she's completely herself.
I follow her lead through rooms that look like they belong in a museum, not a college party. Each space we pass through feels both beautiful and dangerous, like a gilded cage with the door left temptingly open.
Maybe that's exactly what it is.
We're halfway to the kitchen when I feel it again— that same crawling sensation from earlier today. Someone watching. I turn, searching the crowd, and catch a glimpse of eyes that stops my heart.
Among the masked figures stands one without a costume. He's staring directly at me.
And he's holding my music composition that’s supposed to be in my bag.
I touch my purse as if he had taken it right then and there and realize I don’t recall taking it out of my bag in my dorm. He dropped the invite and took my music comp book?
I stare… studying him like my life depends on it.
I need my book back.