Kris pocketed the anonymous letter, a complex, knowing smile playing on his lips. His mind, still reeling from Mia's unexpected confession of grudging admiration, was suddenly snapped back to the present by the increasing hum from the university's main common area. A crowd was already gathering, a magnet for the impatient and the curious. The cast list. It was time.
He walked with a newfound spring in his step, his gaze cutting through the knots of students, searching for a familiar head of messy brown hair. He spotted Mia and James already elbowing their way through the throng, their faces a palpable mixture of anticipation and dread. Mia, ever the dramatic one, was craning her neck, practically vibrating with nervous energy.
"Can you see it, James?" Mia asked, her voice tight with suppressed anxiety. "Is it up?"
James, using his height advantage, peered over a cluster of eager first-years. "Almost there, almost there," he mumbled, a hand shielding his eyes as if to bring the words into sharper focus. "Okay, here it is! 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'—Cast List!"
A collective gasp went through the immediate vicinity of the board as the first few names were read aloud. Mia held her breath, her eyes darting frantically down the columns, searching for her name, her role, the outcome of her audacious bet.
Her gaze landed on the lead female roles first, skipping over minor characters, her heart pounding against her ribs like a drum.
Hermia: Mia Brown.
A sharp, exhilarating gasp escaped her lips, audible only to James beside her. She got it. She got it! A wave of triumphant elation washed over her, hot and undeniable. She had won the role! All those hours, all that passion, the raw vulnerability she'd poured into her audition—it had paid off. She, Mia Brown, was Hermia.
Then, almost instinctively, her eyes slid to the corresponding male lead, the one opposite Hermia. Lysander. Her gaze landed on the name beneath it, and the triumph in her mouth turned to ash, bitter and instant.
Lysander: Kris Windsor.
Kris. Of course. Her exhilaration deflated, replaced by a cold dread that seeped into her bones. He was terrifyingly good, she had to admit that. But this meant...
A hand clapped Kris firmly on the shoulder. "Lysander! Nice one, man!" It was one of his usual entourages of friends, grinning, clearly impressed. Kris just offered a cool, almost detached nod, his eyes already seeking out Mia.
Mia slowly spun around, her eyes locking with Kris's across the heads of the curious onlookers. His gaze was steady, unwavering, not a hint of surprise, only a profound, quiet victory in their depths, mirrored by a faint, almost challenging glint. There was no outright smugness this time, no triumphant sneer; just that deep-seated awareness that he had won.
He began to move through the thinning crowd, a slow, deliberate approach, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn't need to shout, didn't need to gloat. His presence alone was enough.
"Looks like we're co-stars, Princess," Kris said, his voice carrying clearly to her, soft but laced with an undeniable edge. He stopped a few feet away, close enough for her to feel the weight of his gaze. "And about that bet..." A slow, predatory smile finally spread across his face, the kind that promised delightful torment. "Looks like you owe me, dearest friend."
Mia's brief, glorious moment of winning Hermia evaporated, swallowed by the chilling reality of the bet. She had won the battle for the role, yes, but she had definitively lost the war of the wager. Kris Windsor had not only defied all her expectations, proved her spectacularly wrong, and landed the lead opposite her, but he now held a week's worth of power over her. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
James appeared beside her, his eyes darting between them. "Hermia, Lysander..." He let out a low whistle, a mix of amusement and genuine concern etched on his features. "Well, this is going to be... dramatic." He looked at Mia, then at Kris. "So, who won the bet, then?"
Mia shot a furious glare at Kris, who simply tilted his head, his smirk widening into a full, self-satisfied grin. The answer hung in the air, undeniable.
"You think I'd let you off the hook that easily, Princess?" Kris drawled, his eyes sparkling with a wicked delight. "A bet's a bet. And your pride's on the line. Be ready, because my demands are going to be... unforgettable."
Mia clenched her fists, her jaw tight. "Don't push it, Windsor," she spat, but there was a tremor in her voice she couldn't hide. She was trapped.
The drama, it seemed, was only just beginning, and the stage was now set for a week of Kris Windsor's whims.