Sato and Adrian stood in the lobby by the vending machine. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Adrian jabbed the button, and a cold Diet Pepsi dropped down with a clunk.
He cracked the can. The hiss was loud in the quiet.
"Damn, this is good," Adrian said, taking a long pull. He held it out toward Sato. "Want some?"
Sato's arms stayed folded. His face was calm, too calm, like the fight earlier had been a warm-up. "No thanks."
He turned and started walking. No explanation. Adrian wiped his mouth, followed, and within seconds they were shoulder to shoulder, the Pepsi sweating in Adrian's hand.
"So where we going?" Adrian asked between sips.
"Somewhere without eyes. Now stop talking and follow me, fool."
"That ain't nice, you know." Adrian grinned.
Sato didn't answer. He just kept walking, boots hitting tile like he was counting steps.
---
A few minutes later they hit a small park outside. Streetlights cut through the branches. They sat on a bench under a tree. Night air, distant traffic, and a bat slicing across the sky.
Adrian's grin faded. His thumb kept brushing the pull-tab on the can.
"I got a bit of info from one of the idiots I questioned," Sato said. He wasn't looking at Adrian. "Today's attack wasn't random. It was a test. Aimed at you."
Adrian didn't speak. But his jaw tightened. He remembered Aaron's last line before he left: _I've seen everything I needed to see._ Yeah. Same conclusion.
"They're not just strong," Sato continued, adjusting the collar of his leather jacket. "They're competent. And from what I pulled out of one of their guys, they plan to bring the war onto the streets. Every Silver High first year's a target now. So I suggest you think of a plan before this spirals."
He stood up from the bench.
"Don't worry, Rosey," Adrian said, forcing the grin back on. "My crew and I will handle Bruce and his first years. You just focus on staying alive, yeah?"
Sato's glare could've cut glass. "Don't call me that, fool."
Then he walked. No goodbye. Just the sound of his jacket as he disappeared down the path.
Adrian watched him go. The Pepsi can crumpled in his hand. _I can't tell if he's edgy or just permanently annoyed. Either way… I owe him. And I'll pay it back._
He tossed the crushed can into a bin and started walking. The road was quiet. Too quiet.
Headlights flared. Tires screeched. A car shot forward and slammed to a stop right next to him, close enough that the wind pushed his hair back. Adrian stiffened, every muscle going on alert.
The window rolled down slow. Red hair. A smirk.
"You lost, pretty boy?"
Adrian's tension bled out into a grin. "I've never been more glad to see you, Roxy. Care to take me home?"
She flashed teeth, clean and sharp. "Get in."
Adrian smirked and slid over the hood, landing on his feet before ducking through the open window into the passenger seat.
"Always gotta be flashy, don't you?" Roxy teased, tapping the wheel.
"That's why I'm the golden boy. Besides, you like that about me, yeah?" Adrian clicked his seatbelt.
"I can't deny that." She put the car in drive. "Now put your seatbelt on, pretty boy."
"I did."
"Do it again. I like hearing it." She smirked and floored it.
The car pulled away, leaving Sato's warning hanging in the night air.
---
Meanwhile, back at Mark's house, the party was still riding that thin line between chill and chaos.
Music thumped through the floorboards. Laughter spilled out the windows. People danced in the living room, stacked cups on the snack table, leaned against walls just to breathe. For once, nobody was watching their back.
And Mark was actually having fun. With Alicia.
"So how you feeling the party now?" Alicia asked, nudging his shoulder with hers. She had to raise her voice over the bass.
Mark glanced at her, then at the crowd, then back at her. A real smile broke through — the kind he didn't have to force.
"I gotta admit… I haven't had this much fun in, like, ever."
Alicia's grin went wide. "Glad I could elevate your party experience."
She grabbed his wrist, warm fingers closing around him, and pulled him toward the living room. The dance circle had formed in the middle of the floor. People clapped in rhythm, chanting, daring each other to step in.
One by one they went. Shaky two-step. Over-the-top robot. Some kid tried the worm and ate floor. Everyone lost it.
Then Connor hit the circle.
Bright red hair, red eyes catching the party lights. He didn't walk in — he _flipped_ in. Clean backflip, landed light, silver bracelet catching a flash as he hit a side-step. Left. Right. Shimmy. Spin on his toes like gravity was optional.
The cheers doubled. Phones came out.
"Come on y'all, join me!" Connor shouted, grin sharp, arms wide.
The circle collapsed. Everyone flooded in, dancing messy, laughing louder. Mary was up front with Alicia, leading a step, hair flying. For a second Mark just stood there, stunned, watching his sister light up like this was the safest place in Brookhaven.
Then he exhaled. Smiled. But shook his head.
He wasn't a dancer. Not yet.
"You aren't going to join?" Alicia called over her shoulder, already stepping into the circle. "I'm going to, so make sure to watch and learn!"
Mark gave a half-salute. "I'll be your audience."
He slipped away from the noise, heading toward the hallway. Needed a second. Needed the bathroom. The house was hot, sweat sticking to his shirt.
Halfway down the hall, he rounded the corner too fast and clipped someone's shoulder.
"Sorry, my bad," Mark said instantly, hands up.
The guy stumbled back, then steadied himself. "Oh, it's alright. No harm done, right?"
Mark took a closer look. The boy was small, maybe 5'6", brown curly hair falling over almond eyes that were a little too bright. Youthful face. Almost androgynous. The kind of pretty that made you do a double-take. He was dusting off his hoodie like it was silk.
"My name's Oliver, by the way," the boy said, extending a hand. His smile was kind. Too kind. "You looked like you were in a hurry."
Mark shook it quick. Oliver's grip was firm. Too firm for his size. "Mark. Likewise. Sorry, but I've gotta go."
He pulled his hand back and moved past, quick steps toward the bathroom. Behind him, Oliver's smile didn't drop. It changed.
The second Mark was out of sight, Oliver's expression twisted. Kindness peeled off like a mask. Eyes went sharp, hungry, almost giddy.
"We'll meet again, Mark Wilson," he murmured, voice low enough that only the hallway heard. Then he turned and walked out the front door, hands in his pockets, whistling under his breath.
A massive shadow fell in beside him.
"And where were you, Tobias?" Oliver didn't look up.
"On lookout," the big guy rumbled. Shaved head, neck like a tree trunk, hoodie straining at the seams. "Plus I was observing your meeting with your prospect toy from the shadows."
Oliver stopped on the porch. The party noise behind him felt distant now. He ran both hands through his curls, fingers tangling, pulling. His grin stretched too wide.
"I can see it in him, Tobias," Oliver whispered. Almost reverent. "That fear under the calm. That _want_ to be stronger. He'll be the most fun to break yet."
Tobias didn't smile. He just shifted his weight, eyes scanning the street. "You sure he's worth the effort? He's scrawny."
Oliver's laugh was soft. Unhinged. "Scrawny things bite hardest when they're cornered. And I'm _very_ good at cornering things."
He stepped off the porch into the dark. Tobias followed. The door clicked shut behind them, and the party kept going, louder, oblivious.
Inside, Mark splashed water on his face in the bathroom mirror. Didn't see the eyes watching him from the window outside.
---