Chapter 4
Four
The theater’s faint glow seemed to mock me as I pushed the door open again, the sound of their laughter grating against my nerves. My steps echoed across the empty space, each one feeling heavier than the last. The air smelled of stale beer, whiskey, and old wood, the remnants of their revelry scattered across the floor. Even though it was just an hour later, not a single one of them was in the same place I last saw them in, and they hadn't noticed me yet.
Lucian lounged in one of the theater seats, his legs stretched out as he swirled a drink in his hand. Kael perched on the edge of the piano, lazily tapping a discordant tune on the keys, while Thorne leaned casually against the side of the stage, a beer bottle in his hand and his ever-present sneer on his face. Aeron sat near the stage steps, his dark gaze sharp but detached, and Ciaran stood off to the side, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
I froze near the entrance, my hands curling into fists at my sides. Their laughter filled the space, unbothered and cruel. It wasn’t just the mockery they’d thrown at me earlier—it was the way they moved together so seamlessly, as if I’d never even existed. As if I were nothing but a shadow haunting their edges.
Thorne’s gaze flicked toward me from where he lounged casually on the edge of the stage, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His smirk curled with cruel delight as he leaned back on his hands. “Well, well. Look who’s back,” he drawled. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?”
Lucian sat a few feet away, balanced on a chair he’d dragged up onto the stage, his elbows resting lazily on his knees. His smirk mirrored Thorne’s, cold and sharp. “Persistent, isn’t she? You’d think she’d get the hint by now.”
Kael was seated near the piano, spinning his coin between his fingers with the same infuriating ease he always had, watching me approach with an amused glint in his eye.
Aeron, however, was the picture of disinterest. He leaned against the stage's far edge, his eyes glued to his phone as if the entire scene unfolding before him wasn’t worth his attention. His fingers moved with casual precision, scrolling as though he hadn’t a care in the world, but the slight furrow in his brow hinted at his quiet judgment.
Ciaran, standing off to the side, shifted uncomfortably. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze flickering between me and the others. His jaw clenched briefly before he looked away, as though refusing to engage but equally unable to distance himself from what was happening.
The dusty aisle stretched ahead like a bridge I couldn’t afford to burn, but I didn’t falter. My boots hit the edge of the stage with a sharp thud as I stopped short. My breath came fast, my chest rising and falling as I stared up at them, their expressions dripping with disdain.
“You think this is funny?” I spat, my voice trembling with anger.
Kael smirked, flipping his coin lazily into the air. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “Everything’s a game if you play it right.”
“I’m not your game,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m not your entertainment, or your punching bag, or?—”
Thorne shifted, swinging his legs down as he stood, now towering over me from his position on the stage. He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Then what are you, Lily? Enlighten us.”
His words hit like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I stepped up onto the stage, my boots scuffing against the worn planks. The proximity didn’t intimidate me; it fueled me.
“You want to know what I am?” I said sharply, glaring at each of them in turn. “I’m the person who’s done. Done with all of this.”
Lucian raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering slightly as he leaned back in his chair. “Done with what, exactly?”
“With pretending I care,” I snapped. “That I want anything to do with you. You don’t want me here? Fine. But don’t think for a second that you get to keep doing this and expect me to stick around.”
Kael’s smirk wavered, his coin stalling mid-flip as he straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I said sharply, my voice carrying through the theater, “that maybe someday, I will disappear. Maybe this is your only chance to stop being the assholes you are. Because when I leave—whether I transfer, graduate, or just walk out one day—I will never look back. You won’t even have the privilege of an acquaintanceship.”
Thorne scoffed, stepping closer, his boots echoing against the wood. “You think you can just walk away?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to make demands, Lily.”
“I’m not making demands,” I said, standing my ground. “I’m giving you a choice.”
Ciaran’s sharp intake of breath broke the tension for a moment. His voice was quieter than the others, but it carried. “Lily, maybe this isn’t the way?—”
“Stay out of it, Ciaran,” Thorne snapped, not even sparing him a glance. “You don’t get to play the voice of reason now.”
Ciaran flinched, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped back, his shoulders tense. The way his gaze lingered on me, conflicted and strained, made something in my chest tighten. But I couldn’t let it distract me.
Thorne’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than us,” he snarled, stepping closer.
Before I could respond, he moved. His hand shot out, grabbing my arm with enough force to make me stumble. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than us,” he repeated, his breath fanning my face.
“Let go,” I said, my voice sharp and steady.
But his anger outweighed his restraint. In his rage, he pulled harder, his movements jerky and uncalculated. My footing slipped, my balance failing as I twisted to pull free.
Pain exploded at the back of my head as I hit the edge of the stage, my body crumpling to the cold, unforgiving floor. The world tilted, then went eerily still. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, and my vision blurred as their voices floated above me.
“She’s bleeding,” Aeron muttered, his tone flat as always.
Kael crouched beside me, his hand hovering over my shoulder. “We need to call someone,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.
“No.” Lucian’s voice was sharp, decisive. “She did this to herself.”
Kael’s head snapped up, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger. “Are you serious? She could be dying, Lucian! That’s a lot of blood.”
“She’s not our problem,” Lucian said coldly, rising from his seat. “Let’s go.”
Ciaran hesitated, his stormy eyes flickering over me one last time. Then, without a word, he turned and followed Lucian out. Aeron pushed himself off the stage, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. Kael lingered for a moment longer, his jaw clenched tight, before he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets.
The theater door creaked shut behind them, leaving me alone.
The cold floor pressed against my cheek as I tried to focus my vision. Everything blurred together—the dusty stage, the empty seats, the flickering lights above. My fingers twitched, but my arms felt like lead weights. More blood filled my mouth, making me want to gag.
I needed to move, to get help, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Each attempt sent waves of dizziness through me, the world spinning faster until I had to close my eyes. The back of my head throbbed, warm liquid pooling beneath me.
“Help,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath in the empty theater. The word echoed back to me, mocking and hollow.
My thoughts drifted to my mom, to the birthday card she’d sent last week. I never wrote back. There were so many things I needed to tell her, so many apologies I needed to make. The regret hit harder than the pain.
The ceiling lights above me started to dim, or maybe it was my vision failing. I couldn’t tell anymore. My chest felt heavy, each breath more difficult than the last. The bond pulled at me, five different directions of emptiness, of rejection, of abandonment.
Tears slid down my temples, mixing with the blood. The irony didn’t escape me—dying alone in an abandoned theater, rejected by the very people fate had chosen for me. My body started to feel lighter, almost floating, as the cold crept up from my fingers and toes.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to no one, my words slurring. “I just wanted... wanted you to…”
The darkness at the edges of my vision grew deeper, heavier. My last conscious thought was of their faces—not cruel or mocking, but as they might have been in another life. Smiling. Caring. Mine.
Then everything faded to black.
They didn’t just kill me.
They destroyed me.