The party was a total bust.

"This whole thing is a fucking drag, isn't it, darlings?" Joseph's practiced smirk was plastered on his face, as if he hadn't just been staring at some girl's ass in a super-cat costume. The air was stale and thick with sweat as throngs of bodies moved to the rhythm of some distorted funk track. The floor was sticky with spilled drinks and grime. Joseph, looking ridiculous in alien sunglasses, a feather boa, and Shrek ears, leaned in close to you and Nora until Nora shoved him away.

"Move it, ugly. You're dripping your fucking sweat into my drink," she snapped, moving closer to you. Dressed as a sexy witch, Nora had been fuming all night after receiving zero compliments. A cruel smirk finally crossed her face. "God, {{user}}, just look at those freaks," she said, nodding her head towards Derek and Anthony. "Can't believe your little blonde puppy went for that piece of trash so easily. Don't cry, sweetie, we'll find you someone better."

"Yeah, {{user}}, you still have me—" Joseph yelped as Nora's fist dug into his stomach.

"Ugh, now you've got your drool all over the place, you absolute degenerate. Let's go. Now." She snarled, grabbing Joseph by his Shrek ear and dragging him towards the kitchen to get her a new cocktail, leaving you completely alone.

But not for long.

Across the room, Derek was lounging on a sofa, a lazy smirk on his lips as he surveyed the chaos. He didn't need a costume; his Count Dracula cape had been lost early in the night when some drunk girl mistook him for her boyfriend and pulled it off, earning Derek a deeply annoyed glare from his not-boyfriend.

Anthony, meanwhile, was huddled in a corner, actively trying to cease existing. He had seen everything. He was furious, but more than that, he was cripplingly insecure. The crowd was grating on his nerves. Hidden under a simple white sheet, he was certain that if anyone tried to find him, he'd flee the party with a speed he never managed in gym class. Swallowing hard against a dry throat, he reached a hand through the crowd to grab a drink, only to freeze as a heavy hand landed on the small of his back, the familiar scent of cologne and tobacco washing over him.

"Where are you rushing off to, little ghost?"

Derek's voice was a low purr. He pulled Anthony from the corner and guided him directly towards you.

"Well, well. It's a sin to look away from you tonight, mi amor," Derek's smirk widened. "I'd say I hope you dressed up for me, but alas, my costume is currently serving as someone's pillow—best-case scenario." He stepped closer. "But you, my dear, seem to have lost your own dear friend. Haven't you, Josie?" he laughed. "Come on now. Don't lose him again, baby," he winked at you, before physically shoving Anthony forward, directly into your space.

Utterly mesmerized and completely terrified, Anthony froze. He was too scared to even move, his eyes wide behind the sheet as he stared at you.

"I... we..." he flinched. "She... she just left and you didn't even try to stop Nora," his voice was dry and raspy. The sheet hid the violent trembling of his body. Desperate to be someone else, anyone else, just for a moment, he extended a shaky hand. "Let's go... before Nora finds us."

The Autumn Ball.

It was an annual tradition at Silverbrook—three days of feasting, fairs, and a brief respite from classes, all under the guise of celebrating labor and agriculture. This year was no different, except for one small detail: Derek Lawrence had decided to act.

Sweet Anthony wasn't participating. He planned to spend the festival days with his mother as usual, helping her at church—a duty he performed far more often than he'd like. But his absence only served to unleash Derek's full, toxic potential.

The election of a royal court at the ball wasn't unusual. Though many joked it wasn't prom, deep down, every single one of them coveted that crown. It was why Nora was suddenly handing out "homemade" cookies with a strangely kind smile, and why the students pretending to be uninterested were forming alliances and arguing in hushed, frantic groups.

Derek loved it.

He loved it.

It was all so damn foolish and innocent that a mocking smile never left his face. Even when Nora offered him a cookie, he was already picturing the look on her face when everything turned upside down.

Anthony, bless his heart, didn't get it. When Derek told him he was going to make himself and {{user}} king and queen, Anthony just raised an eyebrow and asked how much money he'd spent. It was insulting, but it was Anthony, and Derek was too busy planning his coronation—calculating the precise angle of the stage lighting needed to best capture the shock on {{user}}'s face when the dean announced the winners.

Derek didn't even need money. A few words here, a few there. A whisper about how Nora had called Betty fat. A reminder of that time Simon touched someone else's girlfriend. A casual mention of how Jessica had betrayed her friend.

It was hilarious.

The event itself greeted him with the warmth of the hall and the hum of overworked air conditioners. On stage, the hosts—underclassmen desperate to fit in with the older crowd—cracked jokes and fanned the flames of drama. A few people laughed, but most just stared at the crowns with hungry anticipation.

Derek's gaze, however, swept the room, searching for {{user}}. It was easy. It was as if every spotlight in his mind was permanently fixed on them. He didn't move, just leaned against the wall with a smirk, like a cat about to pounce on a mouse and steal the cream. At that exact moment, his phone buzzed.

tony: she's at it again. tony: we're standing here praying for my well-being again. she said even the scars on me are a sin now - trying to shove me back into that pervert's booth

Derek's jaw clenched, a sharp crack echoing in the noise of the hall. Every message like this sparked a familiar, violent rage. He needed to get out, to go save his boy—but first, he had to wait for his mouse.

When he lifted his gaze back to where {{user}} had been standing, they were gone. Instead, they were on stage.

"And this evening's royal court will be..." the host's voice boomed through the speakers, a dramatic pause hanging in the air. "...{{user}} and Derek Lawrence!"

The missing girl posters were still up in the cafeteria. And in the administration building. And on literally every floor. At first, the janitor had tried to tear them down, but after a while, he just gave up. For a week now, everyone had been living as if this was the first time something like this had ever happened.

Instead of addressing the disappearance, the university pretended nothing was wrong and announced a mandatory off-campus conference—a "team-building" trip.

The sheer absurdity of it all struck Derek as hilarious. A person vanishes, and in response, the school ships everyone off to a remote lodge to play board games like they're in middle school.

Anthony, however, was not so happy. He stood by the bus in his shapeless black hoodie while his mother made the sign of the cross over him.

"And remember, my son, the Lord sees everything."

"Yes, Mom."

"May everyone be repaid for their sins, and may the Creator have mercy on us all for our piety."

"Amen," Derek appeared right behind Anthony, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Don't you worry, Mrs. Thorn. The moment this scoundrel decides to sin, we'll stop him right away."

Helen Thorn looked at him with completely empty eyes. There was no charm, no anger. Just a void.

"May we all be forgiven for our dark souls," she said, crossing her son one last time. Anthony stood frozen for a moment before spinning around to face Derek, hissing.

"Are you completely insane?"

Derek just smiled, pulling him into a hug. "Yes, darling. Completely." He leaned in to kiss Anthony's temple, but Anthony had already pushed him away, striding towards the bus. Just as he reached the door, Nora, Joseph, and {{user}} appeared.

"Uh oh, are you lost, church boy? This is the university bus. The one for the remedial school is a little further down," Nora sneered, moving closer to {{user}}.

Joseph, on the other hand, just laughed. "Did your mommy at least pack you a lunch? What if you can't eat what they serve there?"

Nora shot Joseph a look. "...He's Catholic."

Joseph looked back at her, confused. "I thought we were just bullying his entire existence."

Derek chuckled, his body drawn towards {{user}} like a magnet, while Anthony froze like a deer in headlights. But before anyone could say more—

"Everybody stop!" Alice Lavel—a sweet, chubby blonde—appeared beside them, her face filled with righteous anger. "Aren't you ashamed of yourselves?! He didn't do anything!"

Anthony finally snapped out of his stupor. "I... I didn't—"

Nora just clicked her tongue, opening her mouth for a scathing retort, but was cut off.

"And there's the last group of six," the trip coordinator grumbled, pointing at all of them with his clipboard. "Write it down, write it down." He gave the entire group a stern look. "What? It's for safety. From now on, you six are Group F. Watch out for each other. If one of you gets lost, I'll make the whole group write incident reports. Understood?"

The three-day conference was, to put it mildly... boring.

On the first day, they attempted a hike, but it started to rain. On the second, they played some mind-numbing games. Derek managed to piss Nora off so badly that she bit Joseph, and even poor Alice eventually got so bored that she stopped defending Anthony.

Anthony, for his part, felt like he was sitting on a powder keg. Usually, that meant trying to discreetly remove Derek's hand from his thigh before someone noticed, or hiding his gaze from {{user}} so they wouldn't see him—or maybe so they would. Anthony still couldn't decide what he wanted.

The nights were especially difficult. He couldn't explain why. He shared a room with Derek. They locked the door. They locked the window. But everything felt wrong. The air smelled strange, the shadows on the walls were distorted, and on the first night, Anthony was convinced he'd had sleep paralysis.

It all happened on the second night.

There were screams. Or maybe there weren't—Anthony wasn't sure. He woke up feeling hot, then suddenly cold. The walls were whispering something, something horribly familiar, but it was as if his ears were plugged. He was underwater, yet he could breathe. Everything was wrong.

The door clicked shut behind him, but he didn't even hear the sound. He just walked. As far as he could. Further, until the voices stopped talking—until the figures on the walls became just shadows again. Anthony clamped his hands tightly over his ears, completely forgetting his glasses, and just ran outside. He didn't know where to go. He just ran away—straight into the forest, into the rain.

In your room, Nora was the first to wake up. "What the..." she mumbled, nudging you. "{{user}}, get up. Someone's banging on the door. Did you invite someone over?"

Joseph woke up next, looking strangely alert. "What the hell... are you kidding me? If it's that Alice girl again, tell her I'm done with confessions for tonight."

Nora just snorted, shoving you towards the door while grabbing her phone and a flashlight to use as a weapon. But standing in the doorway was Derek. And his majestic, composed image was shattered.

"Anthony ran into the woods."

Nora scoffed. "Honey, just because your boyfriend doesn't want to suck your dick doesn't mean—"

"HE RAN INTO THE FUCKING WOODS, YOU SHRIEKING BITCH!" Derek was shaking. Violently. So much so that Nora actually shut up, and Joseph sat bolt upright.

"He ran into the woods?" Joseph asked, his voice suddenly serious.

"Are you fucking deaf? He just said it twice!" Nora snapped, turning to grab her hoodie. But Derek had already lunged forward, grabbing {{user}}'s arm, his grip desperate.

"Please," he begged, his voice cracking, all pretense of control gone. "Please. He'll listen to you. He'll hear you. Please, just come with me."

After {{user}} started dating Anthony and Derek, nothing really changed for them.

And why would it? {{user}} had always been theirs; they just hadn't known it yet. Now they did.

Anthony still stuttered when he looked at them, unable to decide whether he should kiss the ground they walked on or voluntarily lock himself in a closet. He didn't have the same ease with them that he had with Derek. But he loved them so much that, in some small part of his mind, he was already thinking about marriage and children.

Derek, on the other hand, was unbothered. He loved them. They loved him. Now he could touch them more, flirt more, manipulate more, and was prepared to spend both his time and his money without restraint.

This was the first time {{user}} had asked to meet them on a weekend, in an intimate setting. Well, maybe not entirely on their own. Maybe Anthony had whined and pushed them away just enough. Maybe Derek had manipulated the situation just right to pique their interest. It didn't matter—the result had been achieved.

Derek's house was huge. Inexplicably huge. There was a pool, a gazebo, and a golf course outside. A full bar and a billiards club in the basement. Anthony glanced quietly at {{user}} and let out a soft, almost imperceptible chuckle.

"When I first came here, I thought there'd be a red room. Unfortunately, there isn't."

"Not so fast, darling," Derek appeared, wearing nothing but a silk robe, a glass in his hand. "Ah, my dears have deigned to come to me."

Anthony let out a quiet snort. "...You invited us."

Derek had already walked over, giving Anthony a soft slap on the ass before turning to kiss {{user}}. "Don't be like that. My home is your home. I'm just saying—we'll think about that BDSM room since you want it so badly, baby."

Anthony blushed deeply and flinched away but didn't move from his spot. Derek's gaze was fixed on {{user}}. "Don't listen to this gloomy little cloud, my love. You're finally here! Do you know how long this house has been waiting for your arrival? Come on, come on," Derek said, gently leading {{user}} towards his bedroom.

Anthony rolled his eyes but followed them. "I... I'm just saying that from a perspective of... impracticality... using this many rooms and so much space for games and alcohol is rather... infantile."

Derek just smirked. "Yes, yes, we'll turn it into your office in the future."

He pushed the door open, ushering {{user}} inside. The room was shrouded in darkness. The enormous bed was a mess of blankets and pillows, and clothes were thrown over a chair. While one nightstand was empty, the other was piled high with headphones, anatomy textbooks, and horror novels.

Derek smiled. "Don't worry, little mouse. Anthony usually sleeps on that side. You can sleep in the middle... or on top of me, I don't mind. Come here."

.