Chapter 3
Violet
The Lysander auditorium had been transformed into something out of a dream.
Strings of warm Edison bulbs crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling, casting everything in a soft amber glow, and silk cloths in deep jewel tones had been draped from the rafters, creating intimate alcoves throughout the space.
At the center of it all, a massive chandelier constructed entirely from crystals and mirrors rotated slowly, scattering fragments of light across the walls like stars.
“Welcome to Midsummer!” Jeremiah said, appearing at my elbow with two drinks in hand. He thrust one toward me; something pale pink in a coupe glass, garnished with a sprig of lavender. “Cherry outdid herself this time. Last semester's welcome bash was good, but this is next level.”
I took the glass with a smile and glanced around, taking the rest of it in.
The stage had been converted into a dance floor, where bodies swayed beneath a canopy of hanging vines and paper flowers.
Some people had gone all out with costumes—flowing white dresses, flower crowns, even gossamer wings—while others had simply added a touch of glitter or a strand of ivy to their hair.
The overall effect was enchanting without being too over the top.
“This is amazing,” I said, really meaning it.
It was the perfect place to unwind after my first week at BHU, which had been a whirlwind of new classes, unfamiliar faces, and the constant gnawing anxiety of my real reason for being here.
But tonight, standing in this magical space with a drink in my hand and Jeremiah grinning beside me, I could almost forget why I'd come.
Almost.
“Come on,” Jeremiah said, linking his arm through mine. “Dylan’s over by the food table. You have to try his mushroom tarts. They're literally life-changing.”
He pulled me through the crowd, weaving between clusters of students. As we walked, I caught snippets of chatter: upcoming auditions, weekend plans, someone's disastrous hookup story.
We found Jeremiah’s boyfriend Dylan stationed near a long table draped in dark green velvet. Platters of food were arranged across its surface—tiny tarts, bruschetta, skewers of fruit and cheese, and an elaborate charcuterie board that looked like a work of art.
“Hey!” Dylan called out, waving us over. He was wearing a crown of twisted branches and holding a goblet. He flashed me a friendly smile as we stepped up. “You must be the new girl Jer told me about. Violet, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s nice to meet you,” I said, returning his smile. “This place looks amazing.”
“All Cherry,” Dylan said, gesturing toward a petite blonde in a flowing white dress who was adjusting one of the silk drapes nearby. “She's been planning this for ages. I just helped with the food.”
“Don't let him downplay it,” Jeremiah said, slinging an arm around Dylan's shoulders. “He's been in the kitchen for two days straight. I barely saw him.”
Dylan grinned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, someone has to make sure you people don't just survive on pizza and energy drinks.”
The blonde headed over to us and introduced herself to me with a bright smile before reaching for one of the tarts and popping it into her mouth with an appreciative hum. “Oh my god, Dyl, please marry me.”
"Sorry. Taken," Dylan said, pressing a kiss to Jeremiah's temple.
I laughed and took a tart for myself, letting out a groan of delight as the buttery pastry melted on my tongue. It really was proposal-worthy.
I let myself relax as I feasted on the delicious canapés, listening to Cherry as she excitedly filled us in on what was going to be the theater’s main production this semester; a Bronte and Tarantino crossover play called ‘Wuthering Heist’.
Suddenly, I felt it again. That prickling sensation at the back of my neck that I'd felt in the colonnade earlier this week, right before Julian Valcourt had appeared out of nowhere.
I turned, scanning the party, but there were too many people. Too many faces half-hidden in shadow.
"You okay?" Jeremiah asked, noticing my sudden stiffness.
I forced a smile and took a sip of my drink. "Yeah. I just thought I saw someone I knew from class, but it wasn’t them.”
Two hours later, I was tucked into one of the velvet-draped alcoves, my third drink warming my blood and my cheeks aching from laughter.
Cherry, Jeremiah, and Dylan were with me, along with a redheaded girl named Ginny, who I’d met around an hour ago.
The four of them were best friends, but they’d all been so nice and welcoming that I didn’t feel like an outsider around them at all.
“Hey, Violet, has Dylan showed off his prank channel to you yet?” Cherry asked, looking at me.
“Oh my god, not the pranks!” Ginny cut in before I could reply, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Leave the poor girl alone! She only arrived a week ago.”
Dylan laughed. “Don’t worry, you know I never get anyone involved without their express permission.”
I tilted my head, one brow arched. “What are you guys talking about?”
He yanked his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen.
“I have a YouTube channel where I post videos of pranks I’ve come up with.
Jeremiah helps me with the editing, computer genius that he is.
And these two—” He paused and leaned over to poke Ginny and Cherry.
“—they help with the production and filming. It’s pretty cringey sometimes, but it’s good practice for my writing and directing. ”
“And it’s actually funny, unlike some prankster vloggers out there,” Jeremiah added, casting a pointed look toward the food table.
Cherry’s nose wrinkled. “Oh, yeah, we should actually warn you about this, Violet,” she said, jabbing a finger in the same direction Jeremiah was looking in. “See those two guys standing there? Tall guy with curly hair and shorter one with a buzzcut?”
I peered over. “Uh-huh.”
“They have a channel too,” Cherry went on. “But trust me… stay away from them, for your own good. Their pranks aren’t funny. They’re just fucking mean.”
“Yeah, they’re lucky I didn’t push them off the nearest cliff after that shit they pulled with you last year,” Jeremiah said, shaking his head with disgust.
“What happened?” I asked.
Cherry shot Jeremiah an appreciative look before turning her attention back to me.
“Early last year, I found out I was going to be the senior production coordinator for the theater. It wasn’t much of a surprise, because I’d already been junior coordinator since sophomore year, but still…
it was really nice. So people were congratulating me, giving me flowers and cards, and so on. ”
“Then those assholes showed up with a cake,” Dylan interjected, pointing back at the two guys by the table.
“They said they made it to congratulate me,” Cherry said, nostrils flaring slightly.
“Just in case, I asked if it was nut-free, because I’m allergic to literally every single nut out there.
They said yes, so I had a slice, because I can’t resist a good cake.
Then one of them suddenly said, ‘Oh, wait, I forgot. There’s some sort of almond essence in the frosting’. ”
“We all started freaking the fuck out,” Ginny cut in, stony-faced. “Because it’s not a mild allergy. Cherry could literally die from it. Everyone who knows her knows that.”
Cherry nodded. “I was scrambling in my purse for my EpiPen, but I couldn’t find it anywhere.
And the whole time, I could feel my throat closing up,” she said.
She paused to let out an irritated sigh before going on.
“Turns out it was just a panic attack, because the whole thing was one of their so-called ‘pranks’. The cake was nut-free. They just lied and stole my EpiPen to scare me, and they filmed the whole thing to get my reaction.”
My eyes widened. “They made you think you were going to die?”
“Yeah. Real funny, huh?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Anyway, my point is, don’t let them get you involved with their videos. They’re total pricks.”
“Noted.”
Dylan nudged me, drawing my attention to his phone screen. “My channel isn’t like that,” he said. “Like I said, I’ll never involve you without full permission. But anyway, check it out.”
He tapped on the most-watched video, and my eyes widened again as I watched. “Oh! I know this one!” I said. “My sister sent it to me a while back. She said someone she knew made it, so she must’ve been talking about you.”
Jeremiah furrowed his brows. “I thought you said your sister was at a school in North Carolina.”
My smile dropped. Shit. I’d forgotten that I told him that last week. “Oh. I… erm…”
I really didn’t know what to say right now.
Technically, I could continue the lie and say that I’d misspoken.
That my sister ‘knew of’ Dylan, rather than ‘knew’ him.
But it didn’t feel right to do that. Not after these four had been so kind to me, pulling me into their warm friendship circle like I’d always been a part of it.
They were all staring at me now, faces drawn in expressions of confusion or wariness.
“Sorry,” I murmured as I scrambled for my next words.
“For what?” Jeremiah asked, frown deepening.
I took a deep breath before replying. “I lied to you, and I’m sorry about that. It’s just… it’s not really something I want to drop in a first conversation,” I said. “Or even a second one, to be honest,” I added with a weak, humorless laugh which I hoped would ease the awkward tension.
No one laughed. They just stared.
“My sister was a student here for a while,” I went on. “But… she died.”
The confusion on my new friends’ faces instantly turned to sympathy.
“Oh my god, babe, I’m so sorry!” Cherry said, inching closer to me. “I had no idea.”
Jeremiah reached over to pat my shoulder. “I totally understand why you didn’t want to bring it up. I’m sorry for making you talk about it.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault,” I murmured. A lump had formed in my throat. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.”