Mani hadn't slept.
The hours bled together in the dim light of his dorm, the curtains drawn tight against the sun. His mind wouldn't stop, thoughts clawing at him like restless hands. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it: Brooklyn walking away from him. Brooklyn standing closer to Bryant. Brooklyn looking at him the way she used to look at Mani.
Each memory twisted deeper until his chest burned with rage.
Bryant.
The name itself made his jaw ache. Bryant wasn't smarter. He wasn't better. He wasn't more loyal. He was just… there. Convenient. And somehow, that was enough to turn Brooklyn's head.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't right.
Mani shoved aside the clutter on his desk, sending notebooks and empty bottles crashing to the floor. He needed focus. He needed a plan.
His phone buzzed on the bed, the only light in the room. A new message.
"I asked around. Bryant usually walks back from practice alone. Tonight. You want me to do it?"
Mani's pulse quickened. His teammate—the one who'd always had a grudge against Bryant for stealing his spot on the court—was waiting for instructions.
For a moment, Mani hesitated. This was the point of no return. A line he couldn't uncross.
But then he thought of Brooklyn—her laugh when she used to sit with him, the way she'd leaned into his shoulder during late-night study sessions. Back then, before Bryant started circling, it had felt perfect. Right.
If Bryant was gone, she'd remember that. She'd remember him.
His thumbs moved before he could stop them. "Do it. But make it a warning. Nothing permanent. I just need him out of the picture."
The reply came back quick. "Say less."
Mani exhaled, sinking into his chair, his hands trembling. This was it. No more waiting. No more watching her slip away.
But even as adrenaline coursed through him, doubt whispered. What if Brooklyn found out? What if she hated you for this?
He slammed his fist on the desk. "She won't. She can't. She'll thank me when she's safe."
Safe.
That was the word he clung to. Not control. Not obsession. Protection. That's what he told himself as the hours ticked by and his phone buzzed again.
"It's done. He won't forget it."
Mani's throat went dry. He typed fast. "What do you mean?"
The reply made his stomach twist. "Caught him outside the gym. Nothing crazy. Just a few bruises. He'll think twice before getting in your way again."
Mani's heart raced, half relief, half panic. He didn't know if he should feel proud or sick.
But then he imagined Bryant showing up to Brooklyn with a black eye, limping, trying to explain. And her face—her pity, her worry, her guilt.
Maybe then she'd realize how dangerous it was to stay close to Bryant. Maybe then she'd come back to him.
He sank back into bed, staring at the ceiling.
Yes. This was only the beginning.
Because Mani wasn't going to lose her.
Not to Bryant. Not to anyone.