CHAPTER 11
Riven
After Dark – Mr.Kitty
The studio lights are dim, the sound of conversation filling the space.
Wrapped in an oversized hoodie, I came in late.
I overslept.
Yesterday was exhausting, by the time I finally found my way home after wandering around for hours, I collapsed onto my couch and fell asleep fully dressed.
I already know Jules and Charlie are going to notice the bruises from the crash.
I know exactly what I'm about to drown in, questions, worry, fury, confusion or probably even laughter.
I'm not in the mood for any of it.
The second they spot me, Jules and Charlie rush toward me.
“Oh my God, Riven!” Charlie grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Where have you been? Liam was worried since you didn't text him last night!”
“So he called us to ask if we'd heard from you.” Jules adds, flicking my forehead.
I yelp and rub the spot.
“First, ouch.” I pause. “Second... well, I went to Elyas's place to get my machine back, and he sold it to pay off some debts.”
Charlie and Jules immediately narrow their eyes. Before they can say anything, I continue.
“Yeah, I know. But it's done.” I sigh. “So he suggested I go with him to an event. He could win some money and pay me back.”
I clear my throat.
“And we ended up in the...” Another pause. “...Lower Layers.”
The reaction is immediate.
Jules's hand shoots out and grabs my jaw, examining my face, my arms, legs, everything. Charlie's hand flies to her mouth in pure shock.
“Where?” Jules demands. “What happened? Why do you have bruises?”
“Elyas dragged me into a race. An illegal one, I think. And he shoved me into the car before I could protest.” My gaze drops. “I didn’t understand where I was until the race started.”
I swallow.
“Everything happened so fast. I couldn't scream. Couldn't do shit. Elyas wasn't driving dangerously. He was actually shaking.” I pause. “But—”
“But what, Riven?!” Charlie blurts out.
“But some fucker driving like a complete maniac crashed into us.” I rub my face. “He wanted to help me, because I was in a car with a novice, not with him, but I headbutted him.”
I shake my head.
Both of their eyes widen.
Jules gets up, locks the studio door, walks back over, and sits down on the couch.
So I tell them everything.
At first, they look horrified.
Then Charlie starts looking way too invested in the story, like the idiot is secretly enjoying it.
Jules, meanwhile, gets colder the more I talk.
When I finally finish, both of them stay silent for a long moment.
“So he's a narcissistic pervert with some kind of psychotic disorder,” Jules says first, crossing her arms. “I'm glad you got away. He sounds fucking dangerous.”
I nod silently.
They are the only ones I can tell, I will need to lie to Liam, he will worry too much.
It’s normal for him to worry, but I don’t want to be a burden, not like I was for my parents.
Then Charlie bounces on the balls of her feet.
“Riv! That man is dangerous but is he…also fucking yummy?”
Jules and I immediately throw identical death glares at her.
“But!” Charlie raises both hands, she points dramatically. “On the other hand, he sounds very dangerous, completely insane, completely out of line.”
She mutters the last part under her breath.
I blink once, twice before I start laughing.
“What the fuck is funny, Riven?” Jules snaps. “You could've died! And Liam's worried!”
“Yeah!” Charlie points at me. “Exactly!”
“I know!” I wipe a tear from my eye. “But now that I think about it,”
Another laugh escapes me.
“This is some crazy shit.” I shake my head. “I'd never even been to the Lower Layers, and somehow I ended up in an illegal street race, in a speeding car.”
My smile fades slightly.
“I froze like a fucking idiot.” I look away. “I relived the worst memories of my life.”
Jules and Charlie says nothing themselves.
I snort.
“And some psychopath tried to flirt with me and kill me like it was a normal Friday night.”
“I'm only bruised and still a little shaken, but I'm safe. I'm home.” I squeeze their fingers. “And I'll probably never see him again. He doesn't know my name, I don't know his. Plus, he's down there, I'm up here.”
“Yeah, but be careful. He's a psycho.” Jules lets the words sink in. “If he really wants to find you...”
“He'll be able to,” Charlie finishes. “You're not just some random person, Riv.”
A pause.
“You're an heiress.”
“Yeah,” I rub the bridge of my nose and sigh. “But that makes me dangerous too.”
I smile, trying to reassure them—or myself.
I don't really know.
They're right, if he wants to, he could find me easily and finish what he started.
If he wanted me dead, I don't think anyone could stop him.
The only thing I have going for me is that he doesn't know my name. He has no idea whether I'm a Below or an Upper.
That buys me time. Time to... protect myself. But more importantly, them.
I bite down my lips and fidget with my rings.
“Oh, Elyas is fine.” I clap my hands together. “I called before coming here, he's at the hospital.”
Suddenly, a hologram flashes across the sky.
An alert.
We step outside the studio and look up.
What is it now?
ATTENTION. SECURITY ALERT.
Multiple gang-related homicides detected in Lower-Layer sectors. Civilian movement is temporarily restricted. Enforcer units have been deployed. Avoid non-essential travel until further notice. Threat assessment in progress.
I look at the girls, they look back at me.
But before we could exchange worries, my comm suddenly starts ringing.
Liam.
“Where the hell have you been?” His voice comes through the call, rough with worry and an edge of irritation. “I've been worried sick.”
“I... lost track of time with Elyas. I had to show him some proper technique.”
“You slept at Elyas's?" His voice turns ice cold.
I wince.
My lie is only making things worse.
I don't want to worry him. I don't want him rushing over to my loft when all I want is to be left alone.
“I did.” I sigh “But he slept on the couch, and I slept in his bed.”
A long silence follows.
“Okay.” He sighs. “It better be that, you're my girl, Riven. Anyway, tell me you're going home now.”
“Yes, I am.” I glance at Jules and Charlie. “The girls are heading home too.”
“Okay, good. Be careful, babe.”
He hangs up.
I shove my comm into my pocket and quicken my pace.
“Why did you lie?” Charlie asks.
“Because…” I let out a weary breath. “If I told him I ended up in the Lower Layers, he'd worry too much. I already have enough on my mind, and so does he. I don't want to put even more weight on his shoulders.”
They shake their heads in disappointment but don't say anything else.
We exchange quick goodbyes before Charlie and Jules head off in opposite directions.
I drag a hand through my hair and head straight for the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water.
I take a long drink and stare out through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The hologram is still flashing, repeating the same announcement we've been hearing for the past three hours.
Homicides? Plural? Seriously?
That's terrifying.
And to think I was in the Lower Layers yesterday.
Was it him? Did he die? Or maybe he killed them?
It could've been someone else.
I sigh and shake my head.
Whatever happens to him isn't my fucking problem. I never knew anything about the Lower Layers before. I'm not about to get dragged into them now.
Because of Elyas, I relived the worst memory of my life.
Then that fucker came along and made everything worse by crashing into us. And now we're all confined to our homes for God knows how long.
Great.
I drag myself over to the couch and slump onto it with a groan.
The Lower Layers, the illegal street races.
Is that really a thing? Do people actually enjoy risking their lives like that?
Because I fucking don't.
I've done some pretty fucked-up shit during my teenage years. But this?
This is another level.
I wonder if racing had anything to do with Kyle's death. Maybe it wasn't an accident after all.
I shake my head.
If that were true, I would've known. The case wouldn't have been closed as an accident.
Being in that car, speeding through the city underground, racing.
I can't stop thinking about it, about standing frozen in the road, Kyle shoving me out of the way.
My fingers tighten around the water bottle.
Fuck.
I need to smoke, and I don't even like cigarettes.
I quit smoking Ghostleaf when Liam came into my life. But right now? I need one.
I wonder if I still have my old stash.
My comm buzzes, cutting through my thoughts. I look at the screen, and my eyes narrow.
My father, it's not a personal call. Never.
It's a fucking live interview.
I shouldn't watch it. I should just keep looking for my stash.
I tap it anyway and swipe upward, sending it to my Smart Panel.
The screen lights up, and the video appears—my father is wearing a tailored suit, his hair perfectly combed.
I roll my eyes.
“The Enforcers have been deployed to the Lower Layers. A witness reported a violent conflict between two gangs. One appears to be a rising gang. The other controls the territory where the incident occurred.”
My father pauses.
“I want to ask all citizens to remain home and avoid traveling to the Lower Layers for the time being. The lockdown will be lifted once the perpetrators are found or once the Enforcers determine there is no longer any danger.”
He straightens slightly.
“You can trust your government. Our only priority is your safety and well-being.” a smile “This was Adrien Laordie, member of the C.A—Central Authority.”
The video cuts, silence fills my loft.
I throw my comm against the wall.
The sound of transparent glass cracking echoes through my empty loft.
“Well-being?” I snap, standing abruptly, my chest rising and falling heavily. “What about your own daughter's safety and well-being, you son of a bitch?!”
How can he look so reassuring? Be such a good man to the city while being a cold bastard to his own daughter?
I sink to my knees.
They hit the concrete floor of my loft with a dull thud.
I really wish you were here, Kyle.
My hands fist on my thighs.
I really need that fucking Ghostleaf, right now.
I push myself back to my feet, determined to tear my entire loft apart until I find that stash.
I search for hours. When I finally stop, I stare at my apartment.
It used to be clean, now it looks like a tornado tore through it.
No stash.
Did Jules take it? That little—Oh.
A memory suddenly hits me, like a lightbulb switching on.
I break into a run and practically dive onto the couch, shoving my hand—then my entire arm—beneath the cushions.
I yank something back out, fake claw-machine coin.
Again.
A strawberry-scented perfume bottle. Charlie.
For fuck's sake. She keeps leaving her shit here. I really need to clean between the couch cushions.
I shove my arm back in and feel around blindly.
“Yes!” I shout.
Victory, I found it.
I open the sealed bag and sniff, it smells like grass and spice or maybe my nose is completely fucked after that dive.
I scoff, almost blowing straight into the bag. My breath hitches.
“No, no, no.”
For one horrifying second, I genuinely think I just blew away the last of my Ghostleaf like some idiot pirate finding buried treasure only to watch it get carried off by the wind.
I carefully inspect the bag. It's still there, I let out a relieved breath.
“Thank fuck.”
I walk to my desk by the windows, open a drawer, grab the papers, and head back to the couch, sitting on top of the pile of whatever I dumped there during my search.
I start rolling, lick the paper with practiced ease and seal the joint.
I hold it up toward the ceiling like the Holy Grail. Next, I head into the kitchen and look for a lighter.
I find one almost immediately. I flick it open, light the joint, and take a long drag.
It's a little dry, but it'll do.
It hits almost instantly, and my shoulders slump slightly.
My mind drifts back to yesterday.
I might've poked the bear a little too hard. But there was no fucking way I was going to follow—or do whatever that freak wanted from me.
I walk back to the couch and drop onto it, taking another drag before letting my head fall against the backrest.
I think about the year Kyle died.
I was so angry, at myself, at everyone.
At the Upper Academy, I'd snap at anyone who talked shit—or just looked at me the wrong way.
I couldn't help myself. I shouldn't have done it, I should've grieved differently.
Instead, all I felt was resentment.
Especially after my parents blamed me for it.
That was the year I met the girls. Jules and Charlie used to hate each other.
Charlie had always been a ball of energy with legs. Jules, a year older, was the calm one, quiet and reserved. But she'd snap if anyone touched her stuff.
I didn't like either of them at first. At the beginning, we avoided each other.
Then, one day, Jules threw her drink at me because she thought I'd stolen her vintage keychain.
Which I hadn't.
I started to punch her and tug at her hair, she was biting me and insulting me when Charlie burst out laughing behind us.
Turns out she'd stolen the keychain herself to make us become friends.
The little bitch had been carrying it around the whole time.
Ever since then, we've been inseparable. Whether we were fighting each other or everyone else.
They know everything about Kyle. They're the only ones who've really known me since then.
I take another drag, it helps calm my nerves.
I need it.
I don't usually smoke. Only when I feel like I need it, and I haven't felt that way since Liam came into my life.
He's always taking care of everything. Always worrying, always clingy. Two years, two years without touching the stuff.
But after yesterday...
This feels necessary.