His Fading Call

After classes ended I was back in my dorms, not bothering to go to the main hall for supper. I was behind on so much work. I'd been doing Marcus's homework since the semester began, but I failed to realize that I needed to focus on my own. After what he did to me earlier I wasn't going to complete his work for shit.

Just as I was getting into the zone, I heard a knock on my door and stilled. I thought my worst fears would come true, that Marcus would be at my door waiting to kill me. I slowly crept to my door, barefoot, with my wrinkled uniform on loosely. I opened the door to see a solemn face, hazel eyes brightly staring at me.

Atlas stood in front of me holding a carpisun and a wrapped-up plate. I stared at him in confusion. "Atlas what are you doing here?"

He lifted the plate he was holding, wrapped in foil. "Thought you might be hungry."

I stepped out into the hall, glancing up and down in case anyone was lurking. "You shouldn't be here," I whispered harshly, grabbing his arm and pulling him inside. "Shit, Atlas. If anyone sees—"

He chuckled softly, that smug look plastered on his face as usual. "Relax. You were in my dorm last time."

I opened my mouth to argue but… he had a point. "That's not the same thing," I muttered, locking the door behind us.

"Sure," he teased, stepping further into the room, curiosity taking over as he looked around my room. His presence filled the small space. I crossed my arms, trying to stay firm.

"What's in the plate?"

He peeled back the foil, revealing a stack of red velvet cookies, and my chest tightened. I stared down at them, unable to hide my surprise. Red velvet—my favorite. The kind I'd eaten all the time before he transferred schools. I looked up at him, feeling that familiar flutter in my chest.

"I remembered you liked these," Atlas said, his voice softer than before. 

I swallowed, pushing back the warmth spreading through me. "You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "Yeah, well. I wanted to. And …" He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to apologize. About this morning."

I frowned, confused. "Apologize for what?"

"For how I acted when you told me to keep us a secret." He exhaled, running a hand through his messy hair. "I was being a dick. I just—look, I thought about it, and I get it now. You're a scholarship student, and I'm … you know. I get why you wouldn't want people to know."

I blinked, caught off guard. I knew Atlas didn't care about something like that, but I was surprised he acknowledged the difference between our lives. I stared at him for a moment, trying to wrap my head around it. The fact that he understood—that he didn't push—made my chest tighten even more.

"I … I appreciate that," I whispered, not sure what else to say. "It's just… things get complicated."

He nodded, eyes finally meeting mine. "Yeah, I know."

Something shifted between us then, the air in the room growing heavier. Before I could second-guess myself, I leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were warm and m, soft, and for a moment, I lost myself in it. I didn't care about Marcus, or the homework, or anything else. I just wanted this—him.

Atlas responded instantly, his hands sliding up my back as he pulled me closer. The plate of cookies fell to the side, forgotten, as we leaned back onto the bed, our uniforms tangling together as the kiss deepened. My fingers found their way into his hair, and his breath hitched as he shifted, pressing his body against mine.

Then, the door burst open.

We jerked apart, scrambling to sit up just as Solana stormed into the room. My heart dropped to my stomach. Her face was streaked with tears, her hair disheveled, and her uniform was drenched in a mix of fruit punch and food. She looked like she'd been through hell.

"Solana?" I stammered, pushing Atlas off me as I stood up. "What happened to you?"

She didn't answer right away. Her eyes flicked between me and Atlas, narrowing dangerously. And then, her face twisted into something ugly, full of betrayal.

"You hypocrite," she spat, voice shaking with fury. "You told me being with a rich boy would get you nowhere. You told me it was a dead-end, and now look at you! What, you think you're different?"

My stomach flipped. "Solana, it's not what you think—"

"Oh, it's exactly what I think!" She was practically screaming now, tears streaming down her face. "You said it would never work. That people like us couldn't mix with people like him." She jabbed a finger toward Atlas, her voice cracking. "You lied to me."

"I didn't lie—"

"You did! You always do!" Solana's voice broke as she grabbed her stuff, the bag slipping off her shoulder. "You're just like the rest of them."

And then, she was gone, slamming the door behind her, leaving a suffocating silence in her wake. I stood there, breathless, heart pounding, still trying to process what had just happened.

Atlas stood too, his face pale as he pulled out his phone. His eyes widened when he saw the screen. "Shit."

"What?" I asked, feeling a sinking sensation in my gut.

Atlas turned his phone off, his expression hardening. "You need to go after her. Now."

"Why?" I asked, panicked and confused. "What's going on?"

"She's been leaked online," he said, his voice low. "There's a video of her. Someone… someone posted it."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "What do you mean, a video?"

But I didn't have time to process that, because, at that exact moment, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it, dread pooling in my stomach as I opened the text.

It was from Marcus.

Try some shit like that again, 

and it'll be a video of your mother's gym getting torched going viral.

I froze. The room started spinning.

I slammed the door open, the sound rattling down the hallway. My feet hit the cold floor, bare against the stone as I raced after her. "Solana! Wait—" I called, my voice shaking. 

She didn't stop. She didn't even turn around. I could see her at the end of the corridor, shoving past a group of girls who were chatting by the stairwell, her movements frantic, her bag swinging wildly behind her.

I ran faster, knocking into someone on the way down the stairs, but I barely registered it. I had to catch her, had to stop her before things got worse. "Solana!" I shouted, breathless.

She was almost at the entrance of Evergreen Dorms when I finally caught up to her. My legs were burning, lungs screaming, but I didn't care. 

"Stop walking away!" I yelled, my voice cracking as I reached for her arm.

Solana yanked her arm out of my grasp, her shoulders tensing. "Just leave me the hell alone, Anna."

I froze, my heart sinking. A group of students had started to gather around us, curious eyes watching the scene unfold. I could feel their stares on me, like a thousand needles pricking at my skin. My chest tightened, but I didn't care. Not right now.

"Please," I begged, taking another step toward her, ignoring the crowd. "Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

She whipped around, her eyes blazing with fury. "What's going on?" She let out a harsh laugh, one that didn't sound like her. "Are you serious right now?"

"Solana, I—"

"Shut up!" she screamed, and suddenly the words were tumbling out of her. "Just… shut up and leave me alone. You're a selfish, horrible friend!"

I flinched, tears welling in my eyes as her words hit me like a slap. But before I could say anything, before I could even process the sting of her accusation, her face crumpled. Her anger shifted into something darker, something that made my heart crack.

"I was wrong," she choked out, her voice breaking. "I was wrong to trust him."

"Who?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"Jack," she spat, tears spilling down her cheeks. "He leaked a video of me, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? He leaked a fucking video of me giving him head, Anna! It's everywhere!"

My stomach dropped. Solana's face blurred through my tears, my chest tightening painfully. "Solana, no," I breathed, taking a step closer. "It's not your fault—"

"Don't," she snapped, backing away from me like I'd burned her. "Don't say that."

I stood there, my mind racing. I wanted to tell her everything, to explain that Marcus had been threatening me since freshman year, that I knew what it felt like to be under someone's thumb, to feel like your entire life was slipping out of your control. But the words stuck in my throat, clogged by guilt, by shame. I had never told her. She didn't know.

I reached for her again, desperate. "Solana, please—"

"No." Her voice was raw, cracked. "You're such a hypocrite. You judge everyone else, but you're doing the same stupid shit. Hell, you're worse, Anna."

Her words cut through me like a knife. I wanted to scream, to tell her she was wrong, but she wasn't. She wasn't wrong. I *was* a hypocrite, and I had no right to judge her when I'd kept so many secrets when I'd lied to her about so many things.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm so, so sorry—"

She didn't listen. She turned on her heel, her bag bouncing against her back as she walked away from me, her shoulders shaking with sobs. I watched her disappear through the entrance doors, leaving me standing there, breathless, tears spilling down my cheeks. 

The crowd of girls that had gathered around us whispered amongst themselves, their eyes darting between me and the spot where Solana had just been. I could feel their judgment, their pity, but I didn't care. 

My legs gave out beneath me, and I sank to the cold floor, choking on my sobs. I could still hear Solana's voice ringing in my ears, accusing me, and tearing me apart. 

I had ruined everything.

I didn't even care that I was still barefoot, that the floor was freezing beneath me, or that people were watching. All I could think about was how I had failed her. How I had let everything fall apart.

I didn't know how long I stayed there, curled up on the ground, crying until my chest ached and my throat burned. But eventually, I forced myself to my feet. My legs felt like lead as I stumbled back inside the dorm, the weight of everything pressing down on me.

I had to do something. I had to fix this. But deep down, I didn't know if I could.

I barely made it back to my room. The hallway stretched on like it was never-ending, my feet heavy with every step. When I opened the door to my dorm, Atlas was sitting on the edge of my bed, his head down. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and closed the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me without saying a word. The warmth of his body against mine, his strong arms holding me, it all made the weight of everything feel just a little lighter.

I didn't even realize I'd started crying again until I felt his hand gently rubbing my back. He pulled away just enough to look at me, his hazel eyes soft, and concerned. "Sit down," he said, guiding me to the bed.

 He helped me walk to my bed, wiping my tears away as he showed me his phone. I immediately recoiled. "No. I don't want to see it," I snapped.

"Not the video," he says, pulling up an Instagram page. "It's this."

It took a second for me to recognize what was happening on the screen. Solana. In the dining hall. Two girls were throwing food and drinks at her, yelling things I couldn't even process at first. My ears started ringing, and everything around me went blurry. The only thing I could focus on was Solana—how she tried to fight back, how she raised her hands, but one of the girls kicked her down onto the floor.

The words they said were so loud, so sharp. Slut. Hungry gold digger. Anything for attention.

My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat. I couldn't watch it anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tears burn as they slid down my cheeks.

Atlas must've noticed because the video suddenly cut off. The room went quiet again, and all I could hear was my shaky breathing.

"I'm sorry," Atlas whispered, pulling me into his chest again. "I'm so sorry, Anna. What Jack did… he's an asshole. I swear, he's not getting away with this."

No not Jack, I wanted to tell him. Fucking Marcus.

I couldn't even respond. My chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of everything. My tears wouldn't stop, and I couldn't find the words to tell him that it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. I just kept crying into his shirt, and Atlas didn't say anything else. He just held me, his hand stroking my hair softly like he was trying to soothe something that couldn't be soothed.

Eventually, my body gave out from exhaustion. I don't know how long I cried but at some point, Atlas shifted, lying down on the bed and pulling me with him. I didn't resist. I couldn't. We stayed like that for what felt like hours, tangled in each other, still in our uniforms. His warmth was the only thing keeping me grounded, the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, the room was dark, save for the faint light coming from my phone on the bedside table. Atlas was still next to me, his arm draped over my waist, his breathing steady and calm. I carefully slipped out from under his arm, trying not to wake him, and reached for my phone.

My hands were shaking as I unlocked it. The text from Marcus stared back at me as if it had been waiting for me to wake up and see it.

Hope you learned your lesson, Rag.

I stared at the screen, the words burning into my mind. My heart pounded in my chest, but this time, it wasn't from fear. It was from something else. Something darker.

Rage.

I could feel it boiling inside me, the anger clawing at my chest like a beast trying to break free. How long had I been under his thumb? How many times had I let him control me, manipulate me, make me feel like I had no way out?

I couldn't let this slide. Not this time. I lost the one person I ever loved besides my mother. And now Marcus was threatening my family. My mom had worked her whole life to build something from nothing. And for what? Because Marcus wanted to play puppet master, pulling strings from behind the scenes? 

No. Not this time.

I'm reminded of Damon, of what he said. You're just a pawn in his little games. He was right. To Marcus, I was no one. Just another person to keep in line.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I sat there in the dark. 

I knew what I had to do. I couldn't let him get away with this.

I was going to get my revenge, one way or another.

This time, I was going to be the one pulling the strings.

—

I left the dorm quietly, careful not to wake Atlas. The door clicked shut behind me, leaving the soft snores of him sleeping behind. The night air hit my skin like a cold slap, but I welcomed it. It was better than the suffocating weight in my chest, the swirl of thoughts that kept me awake, kept me moving. I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't be sneaking across campus in the dead of night, but I wasn't thinking anymore. 

I wasn't thinking about the consequences. 

I didn't care.

The Classics building loomed in the darkness as I approached, casting long shadows that stretched across the courtyard like reaching fingers. The building was supposed to be locked after hours, but I knew how to get in. I'd done it before. 

I slipped through the door, closing it behind me without a sound. The hallways were quiet, save for the echo of my footsteps as I headed up the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest, and a strange mixture of fear and determination surged through me. This was a gamble—coming here—but I was past the point of turning back. I didn't care if it blew up in my face. 

I reached the music room door and paused for a second, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows. I could see his shadow through the glass. Damon was already there, sitting at the piano. He was playing softly, the notes barely a whisper.

I opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking softly in the stillness. Damon's fingers froze over the piano keys, and his cold, calculating gaze shifted toward me. The light from the moon fell on me as I stepped inside, and I could feel the weight of his eyes, sharp and unyielding.

He didn't say anything at first. Just stared. His uniform was immaculate, pressed, and spotless. I could see the anger bubbling under the surface, barely contained.

"What are you doing here?" His voice cut through the quiet, low and sharp, but I didn't flinch. I stood my ground, matching his coldness with my own.

I walked toward him, each step deliberate, my gaze locked on his. I was done with the games. "I want to know what you're hiding."

Damon's fingers tapped the keys absentmindedly as if he wasn't even thinking about it, the soft notes breaking the silence between us. He didn't respond right away. His silence stretched on, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to ignore me entirely. But then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

"Yes, Mrs. Margot is more than just my teacher." His voice was calm, too calm. "I gave in to her desires, but I made sure to never go too far. She wanted something from me, sure, but I never gave in fully. I only entertained it because I knew Marcus would find out. That's all."

I couldn't help it. I smile a cold, humorless smile. The pieces were starting to fit together, and Damon didn't even realize it. 

"You hate Marcus," I said, the realization slipping out before I could stop it. "You despised him. You were playing with Mrs. Margot to piss him off, weren't you?"

Damon's eyes flicked up to meet mine, and for the first time, I saw something flicker behind that icy exterior. He didn't deny it. Instead, he pressed a few more keys, the discordant notes ringing in the room, and nodded slowly. "My relationship with Marcus," he said, his voice tight, "has nothing to do with you."

Frustration surged through me, hot and fast. I slammed my hand down on the keys, the harsh sound cutting through the air like a scream. Damon's head snapped up, but I didn't care. 

"Then why does he hate you so much?" I demanded. "What did you do?"

For a moment, Damon was silent, his jaw clenched. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the barely contained anger simmering just below the surface. And then, all at once, it broke.

He grabbed me, his hands gripping my arms tightly, pulling me toward him so fast that fear shot through me like ice in my veins. I froze, too shocked to react at first, but the look in his eyes was wild and dangerous.

"He's the reason my mother died," he hissed, his voice low and venomous. "And I'll do everything in my power to make my whole family pay for it. Even if it means being with his past lover."

The breath hitched in my throat, panic creeping in around the edges, but I forced myself to stay calm. Damon's grip on me was tight, too tight, and for a second, I thought he was going to snap.

I managed to pull out of his hold, stepping back and putting space between us. The silence hung heavy in the air, thick with tension. Damon didn't move, didn't say anything. He just watched me, waiting.

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. "I want to destroy Marcus," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but steady. "And I need your help."

Damon raised a brow, his expression shifting from anger to something closer to amusement. "You think whatever problem you have with Marcus is serious enough to involve me?"

I shook my head, my fists clenched at my sides. "It's more serious than you think. Remember the deal I told you about? The one I made with him."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to help you leave a construct you made with him. You should've thought it through—"

I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone, scrolling to the voice recording. The one where Damon had admitted to being with Mrs. Margot. I played it. 

The sound of his voice filled the room, and Damon's face darkened. 

"The recording instantly uploads to my other laptop, which isn't with me right now," I tell him. "If you don't help me I'll give the evidence to Marcus so he can upload it to the tabloids, just like he wanted."

In an instant, Damon was on me again, pushing me against the wall, pinning me there with a force that made my breath catch. My phone falls to the ground.

"You think you can blackmail me?" His voice was a growl, barely controlled. "I'll make your life a living hell."

But I just laughed a bitter sound that echoed in the space between us. "My life already is."

Damon froze, his grip loosening slightly as he stared at me, something like uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

I met his gaze, my throat tightening. I didn't want to say it. I didn't want to admit how far I was willing to go. But the words came anyway.

"To kill your step-brother."