Chapter 3
Three
The envelope stood out against the chaos of my desk, its pristine, cream-colored paper out of place among the piles of tattered notebooks and half-empty coffee cups. My name was scrawled across the front in bold, slanted handwriting I’d recognize anywhere.
Kael.
My breath caught as I picked it up, turning it over in my hands. There was no return address and no indication of what might be inside. My fingers trembled slightly as I slid a nail under the flap, tearing it open with more force than necessary. Inside was a single sheet of paper, folded neatly in thirds.
Lily, Meet us at the old Dovetail Theater tonight at 8. -K
The words were sparse, almost clinical, but the sight of Kael’s signature sent a familiar jolt through me. My heart raced as I read and reread the note. Meet us? Did that mean all of them? Why?
They’d never invited me anywhere before. Never reached out, never acknowledged me beyond their biting remarks and cold stares.
My pulse quickened with something dangerously close to hope.
The Dovetail Theater. Everyone on campus knew about it. Once the crown jewel of the city, it had fallen into disrepair decades ago. Now, it was little more than a hollow shell, its faded grandeur covered in graffiti and broken beer bottles.
Despite—or maybe because of—its derelict state, it had become a popular spot for students. Late-night parties, secret rendezvous, and even the occasional hazing ritual took place within its crumbling walls. Professors and campus security tried to keep students out, but it only added to the appeal. Dovetail had a reputation, a rebellious allure that made it the perfect backdrop for the bold—or the foolish.
And now, they wanted me to meet them there.
“This has to be it,” I murmured to myself, clutching the note like a lifeline. “They wouldn’t invite me just to hurt me again… would they?”
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. My lectures became white noise, my thoughts consumed by what the night might hold. Reconciliation? An apology? The possibilities were endless, and I let myself indulge in each one, no matter how improbable.
Back in my dorm, I rifled through my closet, discarding one outfit after another. Everything felt wrong—too casual, too try-hard, too… me. I finally settled on a simple black dress that hugged my figure without drawing too much attention. It wasn’t fancy, but it made me feel put together, confident. Almost like I belonged.
Standing in front of the mirror, I hesitated. My reflection stared back, her eyes wide with nervous excitement. I tugged at a loose strand of hair, then smoothed it back into place. Did I look too eager? Too desperate?
The door to the dorm creaked open, and my roommate, Elise, strolled in, arms loaded with shopping bags. Her heels clicked against the linoleum floor, her glossy auburn hair bouncing with every step. Elise always looked like she belonged in one of those influencer social media posts—poised, polished, perfect.
She dropped her bags onto her bed and raised an eyebrow at me. “Wow, Lily. Big date or something?”
I flushed, tugging at the hem of my dress. “No. Just… meeting some people.”
Elise plopped down onto her neatly made bed, propping her chin in her hand as she studied me. “Uh-huh. And these ‘people’—are they the reason you’ve been moping around for, like, ever?”
Her bluntness made my stomach twist. “I don’t mope.”
“Sure, and I don’t spend too much on shoes,” she quipped, gesturing at the bags surrounding her. “Come on, who are you meeting? You’re never this dressed up.”
“It’s… complicated.” I avoided her gaze, pretending to fuss with the zipper of my dress.
“Complicated like you’re about to make a really bad decision? Or complicated, like I should have wine ready when you get back?” Her tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of genuine curiosity.
I hesitated. Elise didn’t know much about my connection to the guys—thankfully. Explaining the pain of being tied to people who didn’t want me was a rabbit hole I wasn’t ready to go down.
“It’s just some people from class,” I lied.
Elise squinted at me but didn’t press further. “Well, for what it’s worth, you look great. And if these ‘class people’ give you any trouble, just remember you’re way out of their league.”
Her words brought a fleeting smile to my lips. Elise might have been blunt and a bit self-absorbed, but she had a way of delivering compliments that felt like gospel.
“Thanks, Elise.”
“Don’t mention it. Now go knock ‘em dead—or, you know, don’t let them knock you down.”
The walk to the theater felt longer than it should have. The campus was quiet at this hour, most students huddled in their dorms or the library. As I crossed the empty quad, the click of my boot heels against the pavement echoed unnervingly loud.
The Dovetail Theater loomed ahead, its once-grand marquee now cracked and weatherworn. Posters from forgotten performances clung stubbornly to its walls, their edges curling with age. The faint glow of streetlights cast eerie shadows across its entrance, and for a moment, I hesitated.
Was this really a good idea?
But then I thought of Kael’s note, of the way my name had looked in his handwriting. This has to be it. They wouldn’t have invited me if it didn’t mean something.
The theater loomed ahead, its weathered marquee jutting out like a reminder of its forgotten past. The streetlights barely reached this part of campus, leaving the cracked pavement bathed in shadow. A faint hum of bass and laughter drifted out from inside, mingling with the cool night air. It wasn’t the eerie silence I’d been expecting, but the kind of noise that suggested… a party?
I hesitated at the door, the warped wood groaning slightly as I pushed it open. Inside, the sound hit me fully—music playing from someone’s phone, scattered conversation, bursts of laughter. The faint scent of cheap beer hung in the air, and I caught glimpses of movement through the dim lighting.
It wasn’t the scene I’d imagined. Not by a long shot.
Lucian, Kael, Thorne, Ciaran, and Aeron were scattered across the space like kings holding court in their own private palace. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on a dusty makeshift table, surrounded by red solo cups and crumpled chip bags. Thorne was laughing, sprawled across a velvet chair that had probably seen its last good days decades ago. Kael leaned against the edge of the stage, flipping that stupid coin of his, while Lucian stood nearby, gesturing animatedly as he recounted some story. Ciaran sat further back, more subdued, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly. Aeron was perched on the stage steps, his dark eyes skimming over a book, barely paying attention to the others.
They looked so… at ease. Carefree. Like this wasn’t the first time they’d gathered here to unwind. Like I hadn’t even crossed their minds.
I took a cautious step forward, clearing my throat to announce my presence. “Hey… you asked me to come?”
Five heads turned at once, the weight of their collective gaze nearly knocking the breath from my lungs. Lucian’s grin faltered for just a moment before it curved into something sharper, crueler. “Oh, look who actually showed up,” he said, tipping his cup toward me in mock salute.
Kael’s coin caught the light as he flicked it into the air. “Didn’t think you’d actually have the guts,” he drawled, catching it with a smirk.
“I—I thought…” My words faltered, the flicker of hope I’d carried all the way here starting to dim. “You said you wanted to talk.”
Thorne let out a low laugh, his voice dripping with condescension. “Talk? Oh, sweetheart, is that what you thought this was?”
Heat flushed my cheeks, embarrassment crawling under my skin. I took another step forward, desperate to salvage the moment. “I just… I thought maybe we could clear the air. I know things have been?—”
“Awkward?” Kael interrupted, his tone mocking. “Tense? Painfully one-sided?”
Lucian leaned back against the stage, taking a slow sip from his cup. “You’re really something, Lily,” he said, shaking his head. “Always holding on to these… fantasies.”
My chest tightened as their laughter rose around me, bouncing off the walls of the theater like an echo chamber of my worst fears. “It’s not a fantasy,” I said quietly, though my voice wavered. “I just… I thought maybe we could start over.”
“Start over?” Thorne sneered, standing to his full height and sauntering toward me. “And why would we want to do that?”
Each word felt like a dagger, piercing the fragile hope I’d carried with me. “Because…” My voice cracked. I took a deep breath before continuing. “Because we’re supposed to be?—”
“Don’t,” Ciaran interrupted, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. He didn’t even look up from his cigarette, but the cold finality in his tone stopped me in my tracks. “Just don’t.”
I froze, his dismissal hitting harder than any of the others’ taunts. My gaze darted between them, searching for any glimmer of softness, of sincerity. But there was nothing. Just smirks and indifference.
Aeron finally closed his book, his expression unreadable as he met my gaze for the briefest of moments. “You should go,” he said quietly. No malice, no mockery—just an observation. Like I wasn’t worth the time it would take to argue.
My throat burned as I struggled to hold back tears. “Why did you even invite me here?” I demanded, my voice rising in desperation. “Just to humiliate me?”
Lucian’s smirk widened. “Maybe. Or maybe we were just bored.”
Kael laughed, flipping his coin again. “Consider it entertainment. I wanted to see if you learned better yet.”
I stumbled back a step, the weight of their words crashing over me like a tidal wave. My hands trembled as I clutched the straps of my bag, my knuckles whitening with the effort to steady myself. The room blurred, tears welling in my eyes as their laughter echoed around me, sharp and cutting.
“Why can’t you just…” My voice broke, trembling under the weight of everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
Lucian smirked, the kind of cruel smile that curled at the edges, his amusement feeding off my misery. “Why would we?” he shot back, his words laced with venom. “It’s too easy.”
Thorne chuckled darkly, leaning back against the wall, his gaze piercing. “And too entertaining.”
Their laughter grew louder, a cacophony of mockery that seemed to rise and swell until it pressed down on me, suffocating. My throat tightened as the sting of humiliation burned behind my eyes. I couldn’t stay here, not with their sneers crawling under my skin like venom.
I turned and bolted for the door, my chest heaving with suppressed sobs. The cool night air hit me like a slap, sharp and jarring against my flushed cheeks. It did nothing to ease the ache in my chest, the hollow, suffocating pressure that had taken root there. My steps faltered, the weight of everything pulling me down like chains.
“Why can’t they just respect me?” I whispered into the empty night, the words splintering in my throat. “Why is that so fucking hard?”
The streetlights blurred through my tears as I kept walking, my legs moving without direction. Each step felt heavier than the last, dragging me farther into the darkness. My breaths came in short, shaky gasps, the cold biting at my skin as the night stretched endlessly before me.
Somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered that this was it—the breaking point. That something inside me had finally cracked under the weight of their cruelty. I tried to swallow it down, to push it away, but it clung to me, heavy and unyielding.
I slowed to a stop beneath the orange glow of a flickering streetlight. My hands trembled as I wiped at my cheeks, smearing the tears that refused to stop falling. The world around me was quiet, save for the faint hum of distant traffic and the hollow echo of my own breaths.
And then, something shifted.
No.
The word hit me like a spark, igniting a fire that had been smoldering somewhere deep within. It wasn’t loud or angry, but it was steady, unrelenting. A defiant beat against the suffocating weight of their words.
No. Not this time.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as the heat in my chest began to grow, sharp and insistent. Morphing into something harder, something sharper. I wasn’t going to keep running. I wasn’t going to let them see me break again.
“Fuck this,” I said aloud, the words trembling but fierce, cutting through the stillness. My voice carried on the cold wind, brittle but stronger than I’d expected. “I’m done hiding. I’m done letting them win.”
The fire in my chest burned brighter, my steps steadying as I turned on my heel and headed back toward the theater. The night seemed darker now, the shadows longer, but I welcomed it. Let them see me coming. Let them face me, for once.
I didn’t know what I was going to say when I got there. I didn’t even know if they’d still be there. But I wasn’t going to run anymore.
Not from them. Not from this.
The theater loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette etched against the night sky. My heart pounded in my chest, but it wasn’t from fear this time. It was from something else—something hotter, fiercer, and far more dangerous.
I felt the stirrings of something I hadn’t felt in years.
Control.
And I wasn’t going to let go of it.