Friday – 3:30 PM – St. Helena's Gymnasium
Streamers.
Glitter.
A disco ball older than the school itself.
The Fall Bash wasn't even a real dance—just an excuse for the faculty to bribe students into school spirit with bad punch and mediocre music. But for some reason, everyone still showed up like it was prom.
Vincent stood near the bleachers in all black: black jeans, black button-down, black Converse. Trying—and failing—not to look like the brooding bodyguard of someone important.
Which he was.
Because Adriana Bogdan had just entered the gym.
And the temperature dropped ten degrees.
She wasn't in a dress. No, that would've been too expected.
She wore tailored black pants, stiletto boots, and a deep red satin blouse—sharp at the collar, soft at the waist. Her hair was down, lips the same shade as blood, and her earrings could probably double as weapons.
The music stopped when she walked in.
Literally. The DJ tripped over the aux cord.
Adriana didn't blink.
She walked straight to Vincent.
"You clean up nice," she said.
"I wore deodorant and everything," he said seriously.
She grinned.
He stared.
And for once… so did everyone else.
-
Middle of the Gym
"Why are we even here?" Vincent asked, dodging a flying foam football.
Adriana looked around. "Because part of being a teenager is pretending we're not in mortal danger every waking second."
He looked at her. "And part of being in your world is bringing a knife to a school dance?"
She tilted her head. "You didn't?"
He blinked. "Wait—you actually brought one?"
She said nothing.
Just pulled out a sleek, matte-black dagger from a hidden slit in her boot.
Vincent looked like he was reconsidering every life choice he'd made since orientation week.
-
The Punch Table
Mina Vega was in charge of the drinks.
Which meant the punch was pink, sparkly, and absolutely spiked… with glitter.
"Do I even want to know what's in this?" Vincent asked, staring at the shimmer like it might be alive.
Mina grinned. "It's school-approved. Kind of. I tested it on a squirrel, and it didn't die."
Vincent turned to Adriana. "This is your friend group?"
Adriana shrugged. "They're chaos gremlins. I find them amusing."
Rafi, who'd been playing hacky sack in the corner with a rolled-up sock, appeared beside them with a suspicious bulge in his jacket.
"What's that?" Adriana asked.
Rafi whispered, "Don't freak out—but Leo found a guy outside the school gate with a zoom lens camera. He's tailing Vincent."
Adriana's entire body changed.
Eyes narrowed.
Shoulders squared.
Voice—ice.
"Is he still out there?"
"Disappeared into a black car. Leo tried to tail him, but they switched plates. Pro-level."
Vincent said nothing.
But he felt it—the dread curling in his gut like a second heartbeat.
Adriana reached for his hand. "Let's get some air."
-
Behind the Gym
The music was still thumping inside, but here it was all cold air and concrete walls.
Vincent leaned against the building. Adriana stood in front of him, arms folded.
"Do you think it was Bishop?" he asked.
"Could be. Could be someone else."
"Who else?"
She didn't answer right away.
Then she whispered, "There are enemies of my family who'd like to use you as leverage."
He stared. "I thought I was bait. Not a bargaining chip."
"You might be both."
He looked down.
Then back up.
"I don't care," he said.
She blinked.
He continued, "If I'm in danger because of you, fine. I'll take the hits. But don't shut me out. Don't pretend I don't matter."
And just like that—her mask cracked.
Just a hairline fracture.
But it was there.
"You matter," she said.
Then she stepped closer.
And closer.
Until her forehead rested against his.
Her voice trembled. "More than I planned for."
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Because if he did, he might tell her everything—how the world before her was gray, how he woke up thinking of her smirk, how he'd die for her and mean it.
And he hadn't even known her two months ago.
-
Back inside the gym, someone screamed.
Not the playful, "ooh someone kissed someone" scream.
The real kind.
Vincent and Adriana ran in, hearts thudding.
There—near the photo booth—was a small explosion of red smoke.
A firecracker. A distraction.
Then: glass shattering.
Someone had smashed a window and run.
Teachers yelled. The DJ ducked. Mina shouted, "My glitter punch!"
And Adriana?
She ran straight for the exit.
-
Parking Lo
Vincent followed Adriana as she scanned the lot like a soldier in enemy territory.
"Leo!" she shouted into her earpiece. "North perimeter. Anyone suspicious?"
Static.
Then: "White van just peeled out. Plates scratched."
"Follow it."
"I'm on a bike."
"Then fly."
Vincent tried to catch his breath. "Are we under attack or just wildly unlucky?"
Adriana turned to him.
Expression unreadable.
"I think someone wanted to spook us. Show us they're watching."
"And they used a high school dance to do it?"
She nodded grimly.
"Because they knew we'd be here. And because… you matter to me."
-
Leo—helmetless, gum-chewing, and fearless—swerved through traffic like a lunatic.
He'd tailed the white van through two red lights, down an alley, and—
Gone.
Van disappeared.
He skidded to a stop near the canal.
Nothing but wet tire marks and the smell of diesel.
"Damn it," he muttered, tapping his earpiece.
"Target escaped. Professional job."
On the other end, Adriana's voice came through: "Thanks, Leo."
Then: "Regroup. We need to talk."
-
Adriana's Penthouse – The Glass Room
The Glass Room wasn't named metaphorically.
It was actually made of reinforced bulletproof glass, hovering like a cube above the city skyline.
Adriana, Vincent, Leo, Rafi, and Zara sat around the sleek white table.
"No more half-truths," Vincent said. "I need to know what we're up against."
Adriana didn't look away.
"Bishop is trying to recreate what my father built."
"Which was?"
"An underground network of power. Intelligence. Control. Think… governments that answer to him. Corporations in his pocket. Arms deals that shift global wars."
Vincent blinked. "So… Bond villain. But real."
"Exactly."
"And you think he wants you?"
"He wants revenge. And a successor. And I'm the only person alive who knows how my father really operated."
Silence.
Then Zara—ever sarcastic—broke the tension.
"Okay, but like… are we still going to the Spring Formal?"
Everyone laughed.
A little too hard.
Because the alternative was crying.
-
Rooftop Again
Vincent and Adriana stood at the edge, staring out at the lights.
She handed him a small black box.
He opened it.
Inside: a bulletproof vest.
Tailored. Sleek. His size.
"I had it made," she said.
He stared at it.
Then at her.
"You're serious."
"I won't always be there to block the bullets."
He swallowed hard.
Then—smiling faintly—"You're the strangest girl I've ever liked."
"Good. Normal girls are boring."
-
Elsewhere
A phone rang.
A man in a shadowy room answered.
"Yes?" he said in a thick Eastern European accent.
"She kissed him again," a voice said.
The man smiled.
It wasn't nice.
"Then the boy dies next week."