{Chain #15 acquired. Chaos served. Mission... almost complete.}
---
The night didn't end with the fire. That would've been too easy.
We tore through the palm-tree clearing, sand kicking into our shoes, laughter catching in our throats like smoke. I didn't even realize how fast we were running until we hit the dark stretch behind the old faculty lot, where the party lights couldn't follow. Just broken gravel, whispers of the ocean, and our breathless heaving.
Penn collapsed on a rusted bench, legs kicked up over the backrest like a lunatic. Her gown was dusted in sand now, one strap falling off her shoulder, silver string unraveling from her locs. She still looked like a menace out of a fashion magazine.
"I can't believe you kneed him." Her voice cracked around laughter.
"Me neither," Archer wheezed, hands on his knees, curls sticking to his forehead. "That was... psychotic."
I was still clutching the chain in my fist like it might vanish if I let go. The weight of it was heavier than I thought—cool metal warming against my skin, sharp-edged and real.
My first chain.
Not exactly a fair win, but I wasn't in a fair mood.
"Felt like he saw it coming," I said, breathless. "Did you see his face?"
Archer snorted. "Guy looked like you snatched his soul."
"No," Penn grinned wickedly. "She snatched his ego. The chain was just a bonus."
I looped it around my neck. The #15 shimmered faintly under the moonlight, catching flecks of fire glow from the beach behind us.
"You sure this won't come back to haunt you?" Archer asked, more serious now. "You humiliated him. Publicly."
I shrugged, wiping sweat off my brow. "Then he can add it to the list."
There was a pause.
Somewhere far off, the music had died. Just the faint sound of sirens now—probably fake ones, the staff's half-hearted attempt to shut down a bonfire they didn't plan to stop anyway.
I leaned back on the bench beside Penn, heart still beating too fast. The adrenaline was fading. That light-headedness from earlier hadn't completely worn off, and my head felt floaty, like I was only mostly here.
"Cam," Penn said after a beat. "You good?"
"Yeah. Just... dizzy. Think that drink was a chemical weapon."
Archer frowned and took a spot on the gravel in front of us. "What did it taste like?"
"If gasoline and gummy bears had a demon baby."
He gave a low whistle. "Yikes."
We sat like that a moment. Silent. Breathing. Letting the chaos settle.
I looked at both of them—Penn, with her sharp grin and fierce eyes, and Archer, with his quiet gaze and the way his fingers tapped his knee like he was keeping a rhythm even when no music played.
******
Last night was... definitely a lot.
Not the crying-on-the-rooftop-while-the-stars-sing-your-name kind of night. Nah.
More like get-a-chain-by-kneeing-a-Top-5-in-the-groin-and-start-a-fake-fire-to-escape kind of night.
Still, I woke up with a dull ache behind my eyes and a chain around my neck, cold against my skin like a warning.
Meanwhile, Penelope was wrapped like a burrito in my blanket, head buried under a pillow, groaning like a dying animal. Her black tank top was wrinkled, mascara smudged halfway down her cheek, and her box of mints had somehow ended up in the trash bin.
Girl had partied.
"I think my liver's filing for divorce," she croaked.
I sat on my bed in sweats and an oversized tee, brushing out my tangled curls with my fingers. My boots from last night were still caked with sand. Archer, who had somehow infiltrated the girls' dorm without blinking, was lounging on the floor in a loose grey hoodie and faded joggers, scrolling his phone like he lived here.
If anyone cared about the rules, they weren't knocking.
"Number 15 is seriously a cool number," Penn said, voice muffled from under her pillow. "Gives villain vibes. Sexy villain."
I smirked. "Yeah. Villain arc officially unlocked."
Archer looked up, resting his chin on his knuckles. His curls were messy and soft-looking, the kind that made girls want to run their hands through them. "But you're not safe," he said flatly. "You know that, right?"
My smirk faded.
"I know Chase won't let it go. That guy holds grudges like they're collectible."
He was right.
Chase Everett had once offered me a #5 chain—if I agreed to be his girlfriend. Like the chain was a ring and I was some trophy. Cirrius, my brother, had known him. Too well. And now? I had Chase's chain.
Stolen, not earned. The worst kind.
"What are you gonna do, Cam?" Penn asked, lifting her head slightly. Her eyes were bloodshot, lips dry and chapped.
I looked between them. "I really don't care," I said. "I got a chain. That's what matters. Chase Everett can screw himself."
I fiddled with the chain around my neck. It didn't feel like victory. It felt... cold. Heavy. A collar, not a crown.
Penn sat up slowly, squinting,
"Lea's mad. Like, extra salty. She's calling you a cheater. Said you embarrassed her in front of the school."
I rolled my eyes. "She's not wrong. I did cheat. But I didn't steal it. There's a difference."
"She's been loud about it, though," Archer added, tossing his phone aside. "Group chats are a mess. Everyone's got opinions."
"Well, opinions aren't chains," I muttered, pulling on red leather gloves. "Let's go clean before I throw up my own ego."
---
Outside, the school was alive. We had general cleaning.
The sun was harsh and yellow, casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. Students were scattered across the schoolyard, dressed in weekend wear—ripped jeans, oversized tees, some in pajamas and sliders, others oddly dressed like cleaning day was Coachella.
Brooms, rakes, and black garbage bags were everywhere. Trash from Bonfire Night littered the lawn—plastic cups, torn glow sticks, a whole shoe. The place looked like a rave and a riot had kissed.
We walked through the main hall toward the field, and I could feel it.
The looks. The stares. The whispers.
Heat crawled up my neck.
"Don't mind them," Archer whispered near my ear.
Penn added, "They're just jealous you've got main character energy now."
That's when it hit me—people weren't glaring.
They were smiling.
"You were outrageous last night, Camille Jones!" a guy with blue-streaked dreads shouted as he passed.
I blinked.
"You're my idol!" someone else yelled.
"I can't believe you kneed Chase Everett. That was insane!"
"Hold on to that chain, girl. OWN it!"
People clapped me on the back, nodded, pointed. Some even mimed the knee-to-the-groin move.
I just blinked, dumbfounded.
"I thought they'd hate me," I whispered.
Penn laughed. "Are you kidding? You're trending. Someone even made a gif of it in the group chat. 'Camille Kicks the King.'"
Archer added, "They love it because it's messy. And because no one ever messes with the Top 5 and wins. You did both."
I let out a breath and picked up a rake from the pile. "Well, time to clean the crime scene."
We were halfway across the yard when I heard that voice.
"Hey, pretty."
I turned. Spencer.
Same smirk. Same faux-casual arrogance. Blond curls flopping over one eye. He wore a faded red shirt and sagging jeans like a teenage soap villain who thought he was hot stuff.
"What do you want?" I asked, gripping the rake.
"How's it feel, being famous?" he asked, kicking a soda can. "Little Miss Chain Thief."
I arched a brow. "You got a problem with it?"
"I will, if you keep acting like you run this place."
I smiled sweetly. "Didn't we fight last week? You still limping from that or just your pride?"
His face darkened. "You think you're tough? This school chews people like you up and spits them out."
"You mean like it did you?" I replied, voice cool.
We were drawing a crowd. I could see phones coming out. Archer and Penn paused beside me, ready to step in.
But someone else got there first.
"Shouldn't you be working, Spencer?"
The voice was calm. Deep.
Levi.
He walked toward us with slow, deliberate steps, broom in hand. His shirt was plain black, sleeves rolled just below his elbows. His chain—#2—hung against his chest like it weighed nothing. But his eyes?
Steel grey. Sharp. Like he saw through people.
Spencer stiffened. "I was about to."
Levi didn't blink. "Then get on with it."
He handed him a broom like a general handing out orders. Spencer swallowed whatever retort he had and stormed off, muttering under his breath.
Levi watched him go, then turned to me.
His gaze dropped to the chain around my neck. Just briefly.
I folded my arms. "Did Chase put you up to this?"
Levi tilted his head. "What?"
"You watching me. You jumping in. Feels convenient."
He met my eyes with that unreadable calm. "Not everything's about you, Camille."
I raised a brow. "It is when you're staring at my neck like it offended you."
He smirked faintly. "Spencer was disrupting the cleaning process. I intervened."
"Right." I didn't believe it. Not fully.
He nodded once, then turned, walking back toward the main path.
"Thanks for the rescue," Archer said.
Levi didn't reply. But his shoulders eased, just a little.
I watched him go, fingers drifting to the chain again. The metal was cool, familiar now. But it still felt like a question mark.
Something about Levi didn't add up. The way he stepped in. The way he looked at me like I was someone he used to know.
Then Archer broke it, nodding toward Levi's retreating figure with a crooked grin.
"I don't care what anyone says—I like Levi more."
Penn blinked, then laughed. "More than who?"
Archer shrugged. "Than Chase. Than Spencer. Than, like, half the jerks walking around here with God complexes and secret files."
I looked at him, surprised, but a laugh slipped out of me too. "Wow. Archer has a favorite."
He smirked, brushing hair out of his eyes. "Don't tell him. It'll go straight to his brooding head."
"I won't promise." Penn stifled a grin.
I turned back to Penn and Archer. "Let's clean up before someone accuses me of starting another fire."
We all laughed. But the feeling in my chest wasn't light.
It was tight. Coiled. Waiting.
And I had a feeling something was coming.
Soon.