Bonus Chapter : Garren POV

A/N: It took me longer than I intended to finish since I was just taking it easy for the holiday season but I finally got round to it! In future, I might edit some parts here and there but without further ado, here is the breif version of Adler BOOK ONE told from Garren's POV. It's roughly 18000 words long so yeah, enjoy.

PART I

Days usually consisted of only three settings on the scale in my experience; mundane, dismal, stress-inducing or on those occasional turns, downright fuck-all.

The Salad Dodger wolfing down a sandwich with threads of saliva splaying from his double chin had quickly dragged this into a number three within a flash. Before I could vomit, I nudged an elbow into the wall of meat and his body jiggled like jelly, comical almost and the sandwich splattered on the clubroom floor.

Fatso just stared for a moment at it, when Captain Wheels hissed out at me, "Garren."

"What? It was an accident." A necessary accident, if anything. "Augustus Gloop is the one with greasy fingers, that's why it fell. Try to wash your hands in between your meals, mate."

Michael's fists were clenched on the rim of his chair, a bite he still wouldn't sink into me no matter how much I goaded him. Really, just what the hell did this guy do to keep his temper in check? Xanax?

I sat in the seat my boys left empty for me as Fatso got busy to clean up the mess. "Besides, I'm doing the boy's cholesterol a favour and prolonged him from having a stroke."

"Yeah, Gary's a hero, captain," said Benny.

Michael looked visibly done with us at that point, then I heard Will ask, "So, who's the girl?"

Only then, did I notice there was an extra head filling up the seats at the conference table. She was a slim, black girl embodying a crown of ebony curls with bangs that weren't doing her any favours.

"Stevie Powell," said Michael. "She's the newest addition to Coeus."

He could've easily had me fooled that she wasn't someone here to clean up Michael's tyre marks. Will and Ben were both saying something I wasn't entirely keeping track of thanks to the so-called addition darting her eyes to look just about everywhere except from my general direction. Whether she had some sort of disorder, it was seriously aggravating.

"We've already got our feminist and diversity quota," I pointed out to Michael. "What's this one for?" If he was conspiring to turn this club into some support group of the disabled, I was not having it.

Michael was making the closest expression I'd seen on him of a glare. "I told you to stop referring to Amina by that and they're both here for the same purpose as you, Garren."

It was like he was begging me to treat him as stupid as the rest of them.

"Right, and you couldn't have introduced her beforehand formally? You just had her sit there with no explanation and droned on with your meeting? I seriously don't understand your odd ways of doing the simplest of things, Michael."

"I did introduce her. You were late."

"That isn't my fault, it was that moronic driver's. Didn't you hear me on the phone? "

"Oh, everybody heard it," came the Feminism Compromise. "So don't worry, we'll gladly vouch for that."

"Well it's not like we need to introduce ourselves anyway. She already knows who we are," said Will. "Don't you?"

I looked at the drab thing. "What's your name again?"

Her elusive gaze finally settled, steadied on me and I could hardly separate her pupils from her irises. Just two identical pair of ink blots framed under thick lashes.

"Stevie." Her voice was a notch lower than expected of someone so gaunt.

"Stevie?" I echoed. She seemed to twitch at me uttering the name I'd unlikely slip off my tongue again. Then it occurred to me. "Oh, I see now. You're one of those transgender, right? That communities been circulating quite a lot of traction, lately."

The ink blots didn't so much as blink, or seem to even regard my words. Really, this girl- trans, or whatever, truly defined lackluster.

The handicap trophy had the nerve to roll his eyes. "You don't need to bother answering that," Michael assured the newbie. Then turned to me. "Garren, it's a name. There is no standard gender to it, don't be so rude."

I picked up my phone, more than done with this whole bullshit. As Michael started to spearhead the meeting, that presence of watchful eyes were on me- the newbie, no doubt, so I pretended not to notice like always. Though, it was hard.

Which wasn't usually the case.

PART II

I wondered if there was a word to describe something that was completely different without any sort of fundamental change or transformation.

Because that was what I felt was occurring as the newbie was deciphering the equation like she'd seen it a hundred times before.

And I couldn't fucking understand what that meant.

"... Then replace those numbers to the order of the letters in the alphabet, they line up to spell out oligosaccharide. Just as Garren said, is the answer."

The room was silent enough as she finished it off with that final settlement, still struggling to keep those ink blots fixed on me. I couldn't even suffice to call them blots, the depth had seemed to grown somewhere. Or had I just mistaken it?

But I didn't make mistakes.

"... It's a match," I heard Michael say. Just like that, it was carved in stone. There was no other way around it.

Applauses started to pour out of the room, making it all the more difficult to grasp anything.

An emotion was writhing under my skin, scathing like anger but lambent in a way I had ever known before. Whatever it was, I needed to get out. I started for the exit, ignoring Michael hollering for me.

I wasn't going anywhere near there until I figured out just who the hell she was.

**

I met up with Will and Ben at my place to confer so I could get some piece of mind.

I'd been wanting to convince myself that I was perhaps overthinking this. The newbie might've just had a fluke, or orchestrated this with Michael somehow or I was off my game and the equation was easier to solve than I thought.

Except, none of those felt right.

None of those seemed to fit this Stevie Powell accurately or efficiently.

"Well, give me all you've got," I demanded from where I was lounged on my sheets.

"Got as in...?" Will raised his brows.

"Come on, the crucial pieces. This girl shows up out of nowhere and suddenly enlisted with my Nan's referent. There has to be a kink somewhere. Like, family? Her friends? Some kind of hidden medical history?"

Will shook his head. "There's nothing there, Garren. Her folks are common class, I'm guessing she's under some scholarship if she can afford attend St. Sinclair and the only people she hangs around with are average in our books."

"Oh!" Ben suddenly piped up. "And she also sat on your chair in the library."

I sat a little straighter. "She what?"

"Forget that." Will waved it off, casting Ben a pointed look before reverting to me. "Garren, tons of other students fit the bill, there isn't anything. She's a nobody."

A twinge turned in my side, my eyes narrowing. "Nobody? You're saying a nobody solved that cipher all those simpletons, Michael and you two couldn't even get your head around?"

Will flinched back, shoulders shrinking into themselves. "N-No, that's not what I meant, Garren. It's just that there isn't anything to know about her, is all. She has great scores, better than most here but it's like... she just doesn't stand out? I don't get it myself."

"And that's new, is it?" I sighed, massaging my temples.

It'd been a while since something had gotten to me this much and I wasn't looking forward to going to bed with it.

Then Ben decided to remind us he was there, which was almost impossible to forget. "She sounds kinda chill to me. Couldn't we just like, ask her?"

And lo and behold- it came.

I could almost say the moronic answer pushed the last piece needed for me to finally see it all clearly. How a nobody could get this under my skin was illogical- the first, obvious error. For that level of intellect to be bypassed, unless intentional. The motive for this intention wasn't important because if I could turn her into a somebody, then everything would make sense again.

Will, who'd watched and observed my expressions for practically our whole lives quickly caught onto my smile before it could even take form. "You figured something out?"

I nodded.

"Thank fucking God." I pretended not to hear him mutter that under his breath. "What's your idea?"

"You say she doesn't stand out- well, there's one very simple way to fix that..." I gestured to our ensemble. "Us."

PART III

"Yeah, um, no thank you."

There was this bleak, off-beat noise that flitted at the sentence passing through her lips. When she sounded so crisp, so certain of herself more than any other point in this discussion, that gnawed at something before deriving her words.

No.

No.

No?

I noticed now she was openly staring at me with a wryly look, so I composed myself. "What did you just say? I don't think I caught that right."

"She said-"

It took one finger for Ben to catch on I'd be raising the four others if he dared finish that sentence. "I wasn't asking you." His lips sealed, I fixed on a smile to face her. "Come again?"

"I said no." She had a rough cockney accent she played down but this particular time, she let it run loose and those three words felt more stressed, condescendingly so. "I have no interest in being anything like you people. I'm also very happy with having a vagina and it's not unfortunate, it's only because of stupid systems that thinks the world can't have us coexisting without one side having to be on the losing end."

"So you'd choose to be a loser?" I wasn't buying this absurd act for one second.

"I choose to not have someone dictate my will based on their creepy ideologies."

I'd come to know disdain or jealousy from people towards me since I could talk but neither lied in how she regarded me. I couldn't understand it- I actually couldn't understand it at all.

But I wasn't going to let her know that. "Do you realising what you're saying right now? I'm offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. What anyone at that damn school would kill for."

"Well, go ask anyone else then."

The fucking nerve. "There's no need to put up an act, Powell. I can see it in you that you want it. To stand out and let everyone see just how superior you are."

"You don't know a thing about me."

"I don't need to. Everybody's the same when it comes to power. Everybody wants to be in control. It may be difficult right now to see it but you and I are alike."

She had the audacity to scoff. "I am nothing like you." Yet, the gleam in her glaring eyes captivated me to believe it even more.

"Yes, you are. There's the natural human instinct to live, to survive but our kind don't only want to survive. We have the inborn initiative to rule. Sometimes you can detect which people have it by the way they act, their taste. Like my chair for example." Her eyes widened at that. "You had other options to sit but you chose that one. The biggest chair. The one with a dominant characteristic."

"How did you know I sat-?"

"It's my chair. Of course I'd know. That sort of thing can't be hidden from me."

She looked a little stumped with a dash of betrayal there at glancing to my Aces, the change in her composure quite an amusing one to witness.

"Okay, whatever. So I sat in your stupid chair. That doesn't mean anything. I don't want to be a part of your cult."

The thought of making her eat those words were beginning to thrill me, it was hard to retain the excitement.

"Okay, you're overwhelmed. I get it. This is a big life-changing moment. I'll give you some time to process it all and get back to me."

She looked incredulous. God knew how she'd react if she was aware I was rarely this generous. "Are actual words coming out of my mouth right now or what?"

"I'm not a patient person so don't waste time," I warned. She held my interest now, but there was no telling how long it'd last before I was bored.

"I won't change my mind."

"We'll see."

She stood up from the table then, bag thrown over her shoulder and taking hefty strides out. Only to quickly peddle back, pick up the spoon for her sundae and take one, large bite while staring me down. And then she was off again, her thick, frayed curls bouncing behind her retreating figure.

Three months. I was confident she could entertain me for at least that long.

Will let out a sigh. "Well that went well."

Ben, the shit for brains completely missed the sarcasm. "It did? I thought she was meant to say yes."

"Shut up, Ben." On the contrary, past the first flare of indignation in her attempt to reject me, I felt that couldn't have gone better. "Will, go after her," I ordered.

"What? Why?"

"She's not from the upper town. Doubt she knows her way around, much less where to get a cab."

"Isn't that your fault for like, abducting her and everything?"

I glared. "Will, we took a group vote, don't get all hissy now. And weren't you listening? I just offered her time, it'd be contradicting and frankly, desperate. You can pull off desperate plenty well."

"Am I meant to say thank you for that?"

"Ask me one more fucking question, Will. I dare you."

Will smartened right up and took off like the wind.

PART IV

In all my life, I'd never known a bigger tragedy than that of Stevie Powell.

That was the thought that crossed my mind as I was sat on a sorry excuse of a public bench in a town that was beyond humble in stature. As I stared at the dreary sky covered in grey clouds, it served to remind me this view would remain the same even if I gazed up from the academy grounds, the Adler estate- it all coexisted in the same plane.

I found it to be a suitable analogy for her and I. Though, the one difference was that even if those places would be separated in distance, I had no intention to keep any sort of boundaries. Maybe that was intrusive to feel, but I'd never even felt anything this real before.

And she didn't even know it.

Feeling that intense presence of eyes again, I looked down and sure enough, she was looking at me. Embarrassment expanded her eyes before she shied them away. Yet another new expression of hers I had witnessed and I wanted to see more. I wanted to see everything.

"Don't." It left my lips before I could think it over.

She kept her head down, still depriving me of that privilege I doubted many others knew of. "What?"

My hand reached to hold her by the chin and guided her eyes back to mine. Satisfaction swelled within me but when catching onto the caution hinted across her features, I grew torn. She liked to rile me up, I knew it and she knew it. Simultaneously, she seemed to fear me. Fear had never been a bad thing, I considered it a wonderful strength but not with her.

I didn't like how she felt afraid of our likeness, at the idea of us complementing one another, at the sheer reality of an us.

Maybe it was more of just curiosity than sense at this point but it wasn't all sweet talk in saying we were similar. Born so isolated because of your true nature was something I finally felt I had someone to relate to.

Yet, she seemed to think I could break her if I so much as touched her. I wanted to do so all the more, I was fighting the temptation to pull her closer and prove her fears wrong. That I wasn't- that we weren't something to deny herself of embracing.

But, I didn't want to provoke her further than I already seemed to by just coming to her quaint home.

"Don't go running off into your head to list baseless differences between us and decide on your own my point isn't accurate," I said.

I caught her visibly swallow. "Isn't it my decision to make?"

"It is," I agreed. "And that's why it matters that you take a good look at who you are. Who you really are, Stevie."

With how she looked at me now, bravely and reverently so, I felt confident she wouldn't hide again if I let go. "And who am I really? According to you?"

"The person some might not even meet once in their lifetime."

"Don't tell me you're going to say soulmates or something."

The sheer disgust on her soured face was too comical, I let out a laugh.

"God, no. Soulmates are an invention of the human mind, derived from people's selfish desires to shield their own shortcomings and self-loathing under the guise of binding themselves to another person. To 'become whole' or nonsense like that." I sipped into my temptation by just a brush, letting my hand drop to stroke her knuckles.

For someone so jagged and sharp on all edges, her skin was deceptively soft.

"What we have isn't to complete each other," I told her. "It's the ease to indulge in everything we refrain from even telling ourselves we want. It's freedom."

"Freedom," she echoed back, almost breathlessly.

"You can understand me once you choose to accept that part of me in you, Stevie. Maybe that doesn't seem to make sense when we've just met but we can just spend time to sort that out, if it'll help. What's the harm in trying?"

She started to fidget in her seat, the rotten wood groaning under her lean weight and it distracted me from wanting to pull her closer again. I couldn't force this, no matter how much I wanted to make her understand it already. I had to be patient. I had to make this right.

She freed me from the torturous suspense soon enough. "I... guess I could try it. But as just club associates first," She hastily added. "Nothing more, nothing less."

I tried not to show my disappointment. It may have been nothing now, but I could change that. "So... does this mean you're reconsidering my proposal now?" I asked.

Her mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. "I... that's-"

A moan erupted that hadn't been the dying wood this time, but the little toddler that was fast asleep on her lap. I was frankly, less annoyed by the interruption after catching the thread of drool streaming from the pudgy child's face that Stevie proceeded to wipe it off.

With her bare hands.

I couldn't even imagine my own mother being so disregarding of germs towards me. Stevie Powell was a strange girl, without a doubt. She was a tragedy but with the freedom we could give each other, I could break away from that helplessness in the isolation I lived in all my life and save her from it, too.

PART V

"What are you doing?"

Stevie visibly jumped at the sound of my voice. I tailed her after she had hurried off to the green room backstage, face pale since Ewen had agreed for us to partner for the next round. This wasn't the reaction I was hoping for.

"Nothing, I'm just..." Her whole, willowy frame shook as she inhaled then exhaled. "Why did you ask to be partnered with me? I know this contest doesn't mean anything to you but you said you enjoy crushing people. Don't you still care about winning?"

"Of course," I said.

"Then why pick me? I looked like an idiot out there. Isn't that what you think?"

It was the longest she'd initiated eye contact with me and I had wanted nothing more than to tell her everything I thought about her, but she wouldn't believe me. Even now, she wasn't asking me in hopes I'd lift her up, she sought me out to tear into her. Like she'd witnessed me do to others.

How I would get her to see past that sounded damn near impossible, don't get me started on persuading her on the lunch table.

"You look like you're beating yourself up about it enough for the both of us, so there's no need to," I answered. "And that doesn't change anything. I'm usually never wrong on what I've said about someone. They say the average person's brain can no longer develop once hitting their mid twenties but I've known Michael to finish an essay of a post graduate degree three times faster. And you, you solved a cipher by me that he miscalculated. Me, Garren Adler and you're getting scared over this? That's insulting. Winning a dumb thing like this is nothing in comparison. You could do it in your sleep."

As expected, Stevie looked in disbelief but at least, she wasn't seeming so disappointed I didn't say what she wanted. "You think?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, what did I just say?"

"Right, be full of myself. Got it. You do it everyday and it works out just fine- how hard could it be? Only my whole mental state on the line."

God, and I thought Will was dramatic.

Nonetheless, the stress lines above her forehead lessened, along with some rigidity in her posture. I liked it. It put me more at ease too.

So I took a shot. "Let's make a deal; if we win this, you'll fully agree to let me take you under my wing as an Ace. If we don't, I'll stop."

"How do you know I won't make us lose on purpose?"

Well, her first response wasn't a no and I counted that as improvement.

"You won't. Like I said, we're alike."

I could've sworn for a moment, that when I said it this time, she might've been listening to me.

**

Victory hadn't tasted this sweet in quite some time and I knew it wasn't bringing in that tacky, brass trophy onto the coach as everybody boarded on. I surveyed every row, coming up short on one dark, curly haired shrewd. She didn't think she could back out of the deal by hiding, did she?

I asked Will who said he'd seen Stevie asking the staff for directions to the facilities. I thought about waiting but when I registered the only other female in our group also wasn't seated, I started heading back into the main building.

I found that the men's and women's toilets were separated by a narrow gap and a cemented beam. As I approached the entrance, I saw my suspicions were correct at distinguishing Pahlavi's figure with her back turned and Stevie stood facing her. I deliberately walked a bit more discreetly, moving over to the corner and although my view was obscured, I could tell Stevie wasn't enthralled in their discussion.

She had that slightly creased brow and blunt gaze like whenever I tried to educate her; she couldn't give a shit.

It was a first to see her look anything other than starry eyed towards Pahlavi. Before I could wonder why, I caught Pahlavi hiss out, "As if I'd want anything to do with a backstabber."

Then she turned on her heels, only for Stevie's response to seal her steps.

"It must kill you inside... no matter what, you'll just be nothing more than a feminism compromise to Garren huh?"

Well.

I could predict the hit before Pahlavi probably saw red. I believed Stevie had too at the moment her hand was raised. But Stevie didn't falter, she didn't so much as let out a sign of pain at the impact of Pahlavi's claws slashing across her face that definitely had to have left a bruise.

Stevie's gaze was bleak, ruefully sedated by some kind of revelation. Whereas I found myself seized by an emotion I couldn't quite describe. This wasn't that usual hollow feeling of rage or disdain, this felt somehow... deeper, more unsettling.

I was close to storming in, but Stevie moved faster than I'd ever seen her to walk off. Contrary to the turn out, Pahlavi looked like she had been the one who'd been struck. Her dominant hand was shaky, eyes glossy and she slumped back against the wall.

My feet moved forward, allowing her light brown eyes to notice me. Pahlavi quickly pushed herself up straight, acting to casually push her locks behind her ear to hide her dabbing at an unshed tear.

"Garren, where did you-? How long have you been...?"

"Not long. Just enough to hear you calling Stevie a backstabber."

Her expression instantly darkened, eyes darting just to make sure we were alone. "She is. And I can prove it."

"I don't care if she is," I said.

I didn't?

Pahlavi looked surprised enough for the both us of before a sneer grew onto her lips. "Right? I knew you wouldn't actually degrade yourself to that."

Her voice on the norm was abhorrent but that last note had me itching to seize her throat and squeeze it until the only noise that would come out was her strangled cries.

"I'm not sleeping with her. Not that that's any of your business."

Pahlavi wisely took a little step back, but it certainly wasn't far enough. "Look, I get that I came on too strong but I'm not delusional or anything. Stevie though? She's definitely sick in the head. I'm pretty sure she's been stalking my socials with what I just heard, seriously-"

"Stalking? You?" It was like everything she said just served to irritate me more. What did Stevie even see in this cow, anyway? Was being born with the same chromosomes really such a big deal to hold on a pedestal?

Why the hell was I even comparing myself to Amina fucking Pahlavi right now?

"I swear, Garren," she still insisted. "The little goody-goody front she pulls just comes off as weird sometimes. There's something not right about her."

The corner of my lips twitched at that as I raised an eyebrow. "... Y'know what's crazy? You might actually be right."

Pahlavi's perfectly arched eyebrows hiked up, expression lit with pure idiotic elation. Right up until I dug my fingers into her wrist deep enough for the skin to pale.

Pahlavi winced, attempting to pull but I only held on tighter. "And since you're smart enough to know that, I assume you know the consequences for making yourself an enemy. So I won't need to advise you, that if I catch you go near Stevie again, you'll have one other set of consequences to worry about."

I left with her with her thoughts and my handprint marked on her fair skin as a kind reminder.

In returning to the coach, Stevie was camped up front by Ewen who was engrossed in one of his comic books. Her expression shadowed, fingers absentmindedly tracing her cheek with no ounce of acknowledgement of me beside a slow blink as I walked passed her.

As badly as I wanted to haul her to the back where Will and Ben would do a better job of keeping her mind off pointless people, I knew it wouldn't be so easy. I'd barely managed to corner her with this deal, this was my best shot to get her to meet me halfway. Or at least, care to reach out.

Either way, I'd be sure to use this loose alliance to make it known within the academy where and who stood by Stevie. That way, all of them would think twice before even thinking of touching her.

PART VI

I still wasn't keen on parties, nor the rituals that people compelled themselves into but I would have to admit, there were moments of it I didn't hate. When Stevie finally showed up, I could say it grew slightly worth it. And I could've imagined the card game would've been more fun if the majority of the contestants weren't drunk, her included.

Witnessing my mother's mood swings worsened on alcohol was traumatising enough to never dare to attempt it, or risk the damage it could do to my brain. With Stevie, she was frighteningly cheery and mildly argumentative about me guiding her out of the game floor to use the bathroom. Because apparently, she knew the way around my family's issued province better than I did.

Afterwards, she seemed a bit flushed so I led us out into the secluded study that bore a spacious balcony. It felt like an entire different building when I shut the glass doors behind us, the world of glaring mood lights and monotonous party beats fell dead. The open, night sky canvased the scenery with the open field of mowed grass holding it down.

I counted it not too different from a cemetery, in all honesty. I liked it. With Stevie tipsily leaning on the railing, eyes shut and the moonlight bathing her dark skin in a stormy, azurite coating, I liked it out here even more.

"This better?" I asked.

Her head lightly nodded, fingers splayed out to comb through her slick curls in a swift motion. She'd turned up at this party in a bland, cardigan and high waist, grey trousers that covered up parts that at least the uniform exposed of her legs. It was like she didn't take me seriously when I said I was literally throwing this party for her.

I swear, I could kiss her senselessly and she still would lack a proper reaction.

When her eyes suddenly turned my way, I thought she'd read my mind somehow. "You're not going back in?"

"And leave you where you can fall off the railings and crack your head open? No thanks. My mum would skin me if the flower bed she put so much time and effort into hiring the gardeners to make got ruined by a corpse."

"I won't fall. I'm fine." Contrarily, her body was swaying a bit haphazardly. "I took gymnastics for two years. Was one of the best at it until Lola Chen showed up. Just came up out of nowhere and stole my spotlight. All the other girls liked her more so I quit."

It was predictable she'd be a chatty drunk, most reserved people were. Though how had it not crossed my mind to use it to my advantage before?

"... Is that really the only reason you quit?" I asked.

"Yes... " Amidst her slowly blinking, I could see her eyes were rather dilated. "Kind of. No. Anyway, my balance is rock solid. I could even walk on this railing thing with no problem, I'll show you-"

"Don't." My hand was fast to grab her by the elbow. She was compliant to lower herself from the railing, the sharp scent of her shampoo was introduced to me. I slipped my arms over her shoulders to prevent any other drunken stunts.

Our noses brushed when she suddenly craned her neck up to me, pupils growing impossibly bigger in effect, she could drown me in them if she liked. Instead, she giggled. It was a simple, girlish, obnoxious sound that bubbled right through her lips but such a startling contrast to those snarky scoffs.

She looked so human. And delicate. And I could've probably enjoyed this more if I didn't have to question if it was just the influence of the alcohol.

"I was joking," she claimed.

"No, you weren't."

"Yeah, okay. You got me." The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest was hypnotic. "You're brilliant at figuring me out."

Definitely the alcohol.

"I know."

"... You could figure out anything I can't then, right?" Her voice was a little less cheery.

"What can't you figure out?"

Her lips formed a terse line. "... The week I went to see my parents and we were walking Benji, I saw someone across the street who looked like Michael."

"Michael? The club captain Michael?"

She nodded. "But this guy... wasn't in a wheelchair. So it couldn't have been Michael but..."

"But?"

"I wanted to talk to Shaun more."

"What? Who's Shaun?"

"A really cute boy in my geography class." She beamed. "I hardly ever get to talk to him and I dunno, I think he might like me back or is that just wishful thinking talking-?"

"Stevie, go back to what you were saying before that," I said.

"Before?" Stevie echoed. I could visibly see her focus dwindling at each rapid blink but I couldn't let this slip.

I brought my hands to hold her face, the heat in her sharp cheekbones pulsated along my fingertips. I gained the desired effect when her gaze settled on me once more.

"Stevie what were you saying about Michael?"

"Michael... Michael Buble? I don't really know him but Ash loves his songs."

"No, Michael Howard. The captain of Coeus. You were saying something about him."

"I was...?" Her head dipped again, so I held her cheeks more firmly.

"Stevie, just look at me and focus. You can do this."

She let out an exasperated huff, brows deeply furrowed in what I hoped was her following my voice. "Michael... I thought it looked too much like him because of his hands."

"His hands?"

She nodded, caring to clarify by softly stroking my own hand pressed on her face. I tried not to get sidetracked by by the flimsy little gesture, when she spoke up. "Michael has all these blisters and rough callouses, probably from constantly gripping the handles of his wheel. The guy I saw had them too, in the exact same places and sizes- but it just couldn't be.

Then I went to the club library and bumped into Michael at the entrance. He said he was going out to the garden for fresh air and then the keychain on his bag snapped off. I bent down to pick up it for him and then, and then..."

"Then what?"

"I saw tiny pieces of gravel stuck under the soles of his left trainer." She frowned. "I-I-It didn't make sense. His foot plate is four inches off the ground. That shouldn't be possible unless..." Her expression grew heavy in fret, pitifully so that it got hard to resist not just pulling her in to my chest to console. "It doesn't add up, Garren. It's not... I can't-"

"It's fine, that's alright," I gently said. "I don't need to hear anymore. You did good, Stevie."

"I did?"

"Yes. I'll take it from here."

Her bottom lip jutted out but she lightly nodded to me and I was done with resisting it. I let my hand wander to her head and lightly tapered my palm against it. I could've sworn her lips were curling into a smile before a wretched voice interrupted.

"Stevie!"

Stevie turned to the figure swinging the glass doors open. Her dirty blonde hair, ringlets glinted by moonshine were swishing in the wind and steps trudging in angrily and fast, looking ready to push me right over the rails.

And I'd certainly like to see her try.

It'd been a few mere glimpses I caught from the lunch hall but I couldn't forget the face of the pair of dolts Stevie conformed to.

"Hey, Ash," Stevie greeted.

It wasn't returned. "I've been looking all over for you in this jungle! I give you some alone time with Shaun and you just... " The blonde drew to pause, nose crinkling before her eyes suddenly grew wide. "... Oh my god, have you been drinking?"

"Yeah, Shaun invited me remember?Oh! And I had some whiskey in really tiny glass cups."

Her dear friend brought her attention to me, livid and hateful. Not common but still a very familiar reaction of the masses to me.

"You got her drunk?! What the hell! She's not like any of your sluts you screw at the side. She's never even drank coffee before!"

Stevie spared me the waste of breath in talking. "Ash stop it. I have too drank coffee- hot chocolate has caffeine since it's made from cocoa beans so, technically it's coffee. Also, Garren didn't do anything. It was all my idea."

"Whatever, we're going." Blondie then tugged her from my side, sizing me up with one, final glare. "If this happens again, you're not getting off easy."

Threats also weren't uncommon but what I could sense, was that it was infuriatingly empty. Which really got my blood boiling because if some prick thought they had any right to butt in, then they better have been ready to fucking act like it.

Because Stevie deserved better than that. And I was going to make sure she came to learn that.

I stared the blonde down. "I'm absolutely petrified."

Unflinchingly, she fled with Stevie in tow and this twinge pinched at my sight I couldn't understand the cause. It felt familiar to pressure, but where would there be any pressure in this? I'd won already.

Hadn't I?

**

It was written all over Stevie's face that she felt intimidated at Risoni's.

She was hesitant to even have somebody take her coat and unveil her ivory blazer bearing the academy's emblem. She kept smoothening out ends of her curls in a neurotic fashion. I admittedly indulged in a bit of amusement in her fidgeting, but was sure she would come round to getting so familiar with it, she couldn't imagine dining on Thursdays anywhere else.

The male waiter I'd swapped out since Ben was on celibate lockdown, was a newer face amongst the staff. He'd served my table on two former occasions; both times he smelt like menthols with dirt caked under his nailbeds and past his wide smile, his eyes were glazed in boredom. That expression was absent this time, however.

The elimination method easily exposed the answer- my newest Ace. Stevie wasn't as much as a sore thumb as she would assume, the society just lacked diversity. Anything remotely different baffled or excited them and this prick fell to the latter. I caught it in his lingering stare that she was something of a spectacle to him. Something to hold in wander like she was on display.

Stevie was too engrossed in reading the listed dishes to pick up on it. When the lingering travelled below her neck, my hands were already reaching out to snatch the menu.

"She'll have the same as me. Except make her drink Coke, not water." I knew there wasn't any commercial substances like Coke served- he knew that, too. But he wasn't about to correct an Adler, not on his fucking, pathetic life.

I relished in the panic that washed out his tanned face. He quickly swallowed it down, nodding and jotting everything down, the pattern on his pen strokes notably out of rhythm. He bolted off and I was sure I wouldn't see his face anytime soon.

"Now that we've got that taken care of," I began. "Let's sort out some things that I've been meaning to attend to."

Stevie raised a brow, evidently curious. "Such as...?"

"As an Ace now, there's certain requirements you need to adhere to."

Her arms crossed over her chest. "Right, if you're going to bring up me sitting with you guys everyday, that's not happening. I'm not ditching my friends like that."

I knew she'd probably still hold onto pointless fronts like that, what I couldn't ignore was her saying her friends. Shouldn't it have been other friends? Hadn't our association reached that level to be acknowledged by that title, too?

"Why not? We're better."

"Subjectively speaking," she said.

Was she being fucking serious right now? If she wanted to put this up for debate, then I'd gladly give her one. Then Will had to intervene before I got the chance to start.

"How about we just settle on designated days she sits with us and her other friends?"

Had we met before? "No."

Will had his lips pursed in that way of holding in a sigh. I might've only resigned my temper because his hand fastened on my shoulder was lightly squeezing, a hidden plea that there was more to it. I quirked a brow, a nod cued to confirm my suspicions. I let him pull me in close, voice a hushed whisper in my ear.

"I know you don't share, but Stevie doesn't know that and trust me, you're going to lose any benefit of a doubt she's giving you now. What's crucial isn't winning an argument, what matters is giving her the impression you can compromise."

"I don't-"

"That's why I said impression, Garren. Think about it, her friends aren't supportive of her hanging out with us, but if you act like you don't mind them, then you look considerate. And she'll be appreciative- that's a win."

Huh.

Now I liked the sound of that.

I carefully spared Will a glance that I knew he'd translate to, 'You'd better be right about this or else.' He kept his stare, so I gave a subtle nod we were in agreement. Begrudgingly, I faced the girl I needed to show I could be considerate of.

"... Would you be willing to comply with a division of seating arrangements between your 'other friends' and us?"

Stevie actually looked taken aback by that, making this a little less aggravating. She glanced to Will then back to me. "Yes."

So long as I knew the mechanisms of the game, whether ploy or so-called consideration, there wasn't one I could lose.

PART VII

"Stevie stop."

She instantly halted from her steadfast stride, hands still clenched at her sides as she turned her head. When her eyes fell on me, there was a storm in them. A storm, as it seemed, that I'd unintentionally set off. "Would you get out of that chair already?"

Before I made a hasty assumption, that usually led to things getting uglier, I had to make sure. "Are you upset?"

By the look she gave me, I'd asked something horrendously obvious. "No, I just have a habit to scream at people for no particular reason-yes I'm bloody upset, Garren."

I searched for what feasible cause could apply for it. "Oh, this is about the campaign thing isn't it? Look, don't take what I said to heart. You're not just a pretty face to appeal to the feminist masses. I only said that to calm my nan. You know, her minds always focused on profit before anything else. You're perfectly capable of running-"

"That's not what I'm upset about! You just destroyed an entire name and reputation that took years of hard work to build! Do you even realise that?"

Michael? That's what this was? She was getting this angry over him?

"What I did was expose a liar who was exploiting the system for his own personal game," I said.

She scoffed. "Personal game? Michael?" The chuckle that left her lips was empty of anything warm and genuine, the nature was acidic to the senses. "No Garren, you're the only one who made this personal. You didn't like being bossed around so you were looking for a way to get rid of Michael. Then you found one. And you could've gone about it discreetly, you could've told him you knew his secret and convinced him to quietly resign from being captain or fess up. But that wasn't enough to satisfy you. You wanted to crush his soul.

That's what you said you like to do to opponents, don't you? That's why you planted the story to Archie, he was the perfect pawn. Highest efficiency rate in the newspaper club but also naïvely young and eager to pitch the piece with no sense to ration. Any other member would've thought twice about taking your word Ms. Shepherd approved. Never in a million years would she allow a thing like this be brought out through a dingy school newsletter! It's comical. Everything you did Garren, was to flaunt your skills and to bury Michael under the ground as deep as possible."

I found myself held in arrest in a way that I'd come to learn was unique to her.

Whether it was to lash out, chasten me or mock me for the fun of it, the veil she presented on the surface grew so transparent, I felt like I could reach and pull it right now. Though at the moment, deep down to her core, she was livid to the extent it might burn me if I tried to touch.

And I didn't know how suicidal I was until meeting her. My lips stretched so far, my jaw could barely contain it. I started to applaud and those dark eyes grew grim.

They skipped as I rose to my full height, although I had several inches over her, I didn't feel like I was above her in the slightest.

"Right you are. Spot on, Stevie Powell. I couldn't have said it better myself- well, actually, no of course I could but well done nonetheless. I'd been digging around like mad for something on that handicap promotion piece but it was a hell of a lot harder than finding dirt on a politician. I was close to admitting he was squeaky clean... until you came in."

Her gaze was smouldering. "Stop talking, Garren."

I steadied my hands in her shoulders. "But don't you get it? I was right to have you be at my side. This is clearly fate-"

"Garren shut up!" She pushed me back. "You know, I'm the idiot here for thinking you actually had a good side to you but you don't. And you don't care that you don't. You're just a power hungry, egotistical heartless spoilt brat and I'm done."

I blinked several times, at each one, the words she'd seethed out burrowing in deeper, echoing out a dreadful realisation to what they meant. Yet, I found myself asking,

"Done? What do you mean done?"

"I'm done with being an Ace if it means sticking with a monster like you."

PART VIII

Out of all the names I'd been called- and there'd been quite a few, monster didn't remotely come close to the top ten.

But it wasn't what Stevie said that got between my flesh like a splinter, it was how she said it. Like she'd been fighting through pain to bring it from her lips, as though hurt. Which had to be the biggest fucking travesty of the century.

What the hell did she have to be hurt about in this? None of Michael's fraudulence would affect her.

Even if he figured out Stevie was the one who'd been the first source to expose him, there was no feasible trail to lead it back- I'd kept her completely clean.

I'd protected her and prioritised her in some ways more than necessary. How had I messed this up? How could she be mad at me?

After Stevie didn't show up the next day, I decided against going to her hotel. I felt unprepared to approach her if I hadn't a clue where I'd gone wrong, it seemed to make her even angrier, too.

After two days of absences, Will offered to check in on her. It took me by surprise. I'd known him to be courteous to girls particularly, but that was when they were in front of him. Maybe this problem with Stevie was more obvious than I thought to tell that it was bothering me.

What even started to bother me wasn't just not knowing what to say or do, it was the thought of what I would do if this happened again? What if I messed up somewhere, set her off- would I have to deal with this shit all over again?

I wasn't having that. Nothing was worth that.

**

Catching the dread on the faces of the club members was just like I'd imagined it to be once I'd obtained rightful captaincy from Michael. Securing the spot had always been the easy part and now that it was officially sanctioned, the moment fell short. Anticlimactic in a sense.

Perhaps it was the dark brunette who wasn't meant to be a part of the equation souring the mood. God knew, just her nonchalant stares could put a damper in an otherwise moderate day.

I'd waited for the conference room to be cleared out, soaking in the fear of the members that their posts could be gone at any second then strode out. I could feel the presence of eyes on my back before Will gradually picked up his pace to gain the front. "You don't think Ms. Shepherd's gonna be pissed?"

"On the subject of?" It was easy to lose track of what ideas I had that the old bat would throw a fit over.

Will was visibly exasperated. "On the subject of you kicking out three members. Philip I could get passed but the others were likable people."

"I wouldn't disagree with you. Amity would make for a very good quality in a support group but we're not in one, Will. So, I can confidently say my nan would clearly not give two shits now could you get to the point?"

His eyes darted to Benny on my other side, some kind of visual message being exchanged and then his feet came to a halt. I, in turn stopped and so did Benny.

"Is that why you didn't kick out Stevie, like you said you would?" Will's gaze was surveying with hints of reluctance.

I couldn't really blame him when he and Benny learnt to follow my pace but figuratively and literally. My sudden decision to offer her the position as advisory- mind you, a completely fabricated positioned I'd made up on the spot, had them falling out of symphony.

At least, that's what I assumed was the extent of his interest. "I changed my mind."

The boys stared at me like I'd spoken in a foreign language. "You changed your mind..." Will slowly echoed.

"Yes."

Will turned to Benny. He took to standing a bit closer and I gathered that look they shared was a signal to take turns. "Why?" Benny asked.

"Because I did." And that was all I would suffice, as there was no other way to put it.

I couldn't find a simpler way to explain that walking into that room, seeing that burning malice in the flesh wasn't so easy to shrug off like rehearsed in my planning. That seeing her voting paper blank made me want to smile beyond any feasible reason other than finding it fitting she couldn't even pretend she believed any of those simpletons could fill Michael's shoes.

It was exhausting enough to try to teach them basic advanced academics. I couldn't imagine the stress to justify my own logic.

"... Right," Will said after a while of silence.

"Is there a problem?" I questioned.

The two quickly shook their heads, speaking no more of it, much to my relief. Admittedly, there was this frustration gnawing at me in my abrupt decision to scrap the plans I set out. I wasn't used to improvising my steps- in fact, I never acted in impulses like this before and hadn't the slightest clue where to take it from here.

And it was all stupid Stevie Powell's fault.

PART IX

It was decided that I needed to lecture Powell about punctuality.

Be it her underdeveloped upbringing, but Stevie had quite the persistency to leave me waiting which I hated. I hated it with a burning passion that she carelessly invoked and then what I hated most in her case, was that once she showed up, the second she laid eyes on me, I'd lose track of thought.

The anger would still be there, yet several other emotions and thoughts I urgently needed to get out would put the lecture on hold.

Just like now, as she walked into the conference room. By her tousled locks strewn across her round face, she'd ran under the humidity her mounds of curls and gaudy bangs put her through. Her willowy fingers absentmindedly combed them away as her eyes raked the space, no doubt expecting a full house.

I'd offered her the seat by my side and wished I was more surprised when she resisted, gaze dark and brows furrowed.

"Stevie, I'm not going to bite," I said.

She responded to circle back and sit in the chair furthest apart, just when I thought she couldn't get more childish. It made me roll my eyes. She definitely noticed and I caught her full lips twitching in a start to speak, if not for the door swinging open in that moment.

Her attention strayed to the attendant hauling in the cart of cakes and biscuits I'd issued in. Initially, I'd have gladly enforced a prohibition to the catering policy as I despised the constant taunting and torment roaming in shiny, silver platters during meetings equally as much as Fatso stuffing his gob. However, I'd done enough research and personal study when observing Stevie take several cupcakes at the bakery during my visit to know she quite liked it.

When it came to eating, it was the rare occasions I could observe her for longer periods with a more tender expression. She'd look genuinely unnerved by it but in realising I wasn't going to stop, she would ignore it and resume to eat, practically forgetting about me. It seemed a waste not to take advantage of an opportunity and indulge in putting her on edge.

Her gaze were hooked to the cart as it approached to serve me my coffee and I hid my delight at her longing look.

"Would you like anything?" I asked.

Realising I spoke, she steeled her expression as she regarded me. "I'm not early, am I?"

"No you're not and tardiness will not be overlooked next time so there better not be a next time."

"Where's everybody else, then?"

"Doing whatever they do after school. How would I know?" I quickly sipped the blend. The taste hit my tongue in a bitter pool of flavour and I gladly swallowed it, then let the attendant off.

"But, didn't you tell them about the meeting?" Stevie questioned.

"Their presence isn't required for this one."

She frowned. "What about Will and Ben?"

"Will said he was going to a place of some sort, I think? Wasn't really listening so I just said no when he invited me to come along." I shrugged. "And Ben is at the football club's drill runs. I told him to let coach know I wouldn't come, if he actually remembered this time. Though, maybe I should just quit the team. I might not have any time with all this real work I'll need to cope with."

At quoting her words back to her, Stevie shrunk a bit in her seat. There was a smidge of guilt laced in her but I didn't intend to make her squirm. I thought maybe that was why I chose her to stay but it didn't satisfy these urges to make her suffer. It was like I wanted to reach for the butter knife on the silverware set to gauge her open, but just to take a peek- to see if she was every bit as disjointed and hollow in places like I pictured it.

But, just as well, I took interest in waiting for her to reach and do the same to me. It all rivalled my hunger to know in how badly I was eager to make her see we could fit. That we could tear into each other openly and not put on airs for the sake of something as dismal as decency.

Stevie stiffly shifted in her seat. I knew she didn't want to be alone and maybe if she wasn't so prideful, she would've bolted. Never thought I'd be so glad for it.

"Do you want to hear me say I'm sorry for what I said?" She questioned. "Is that what this meeting's for? For me to grovel?"

"I have no intention to make you apologise. You're entitled to your opinion and I know you didn't mean it."

She was silent for a moment. "Right, so why am I here?"

"Pick a game." I gestured to the other attendant on standby bearing an array of shelved board games. "I can play anything."

"What?"

"But if you do pick Monopoly, I call dibs on the red car."

"You... you called a meeting to play random board games?" Her voice turned in disbelief and some obscure trace of amusement sounded divine.

"Yes."

She stared, breaking the previous record on my notes about eye contact. I was hopeful by the end of the weekend, the continuity would expand to a point that keeping track grew tedious. I probably still would, nonetheless.

"No, seriously? That's it?"

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes."

"Enlighten me."

"Coeus is supposed to serve the purpose of training and broadening members minds as skills as a group course. To bring something of common interest and develop together."

"Isn't that what we're doing right now?"

"No, you're just playing around." The bright gleam in her gaze betrayed the tone of annoyance.

"Which is exactly the point. It's what this room is designed for, isn't? Recreation. Call it mental exercise and stimuli but that's just trying to sound sophisticated. Politics, war, crime- everything the world prioritises is just mucking about. It's a game and all you can do is try to enjoy it as much as you possibly can."

At the slight tamper in her composure, I knew she was unclenching and clenching her hand under the table on her lap. I'd witnessed the habit when I was close enough to deduce what made her tick the most. When I told her things she probably wasn't used to hearing outside of her own mind.

All at once, Stevie stood to her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving. I'm not in the mood to listen to one of your creepy ideology lectures." She started to the door.

And for such a long time, nothing had come close to triggering than when she turned her back to me.

"You leave this room then I'll be obliged to write you up and it'll be sent to the headmaster's office."

The threat was about as empty as Benny's head, but it struck fast and hard to halt her steps. The thing was, I wasn't one for bluffs, but it just slipped out. Forget grasping at straws, I could barely get my fingerprints to brush onto her sudden shifts.

Just when I'd think I was getting closer, she would put that distance back. Every direction I took never seemed to stick and maybe, just maybe, she was stringing me along deliberately. That she knew it drove me mad. I certainly wouldn't have minded if it meant she understood what power she had over the situation, at least to recognise it would be something.

Those defiant eyes greeted me once again and I put on a smile.

"You probably wouldn't be removed but I don't think my nan would be too thrilled to hear about Coeus having a problematic member after the scandal that she just managed to crawl through with minimal cuts."

I patiently awaited what choice she would make, finding myself holding my breath at the odd chance it wasn't the one I hoped.

Then she received me from the suspense to say, "Scrabble." Then sat back down.

**

The next couple of days stuck to a pattern of me sitting in the room, Stevie would arrive without an apology but instead a reminder on what the score was. Even though I didn't say anything about keeping a score, she seemed to enjoy infuriating me about it.

On thirteenth day, the pattern stopped.

She arrived technically two minutes earlier, but didn't so much as blink at me. She was very quiet and I thought it'd be best to settle into a game, convincing myself it was me simply overthinking it.

The sudden sound of her voice was like thunder in the deadly silent room. "Look, how long do you plan on keeping this up?"

"Keep what up?"

"This." She nodded to the table between us where I was arranging the shogi pieces. "Because I don't care if you don't want to take your captain position seriously but I'd like to spend my free hours with my friends for once."

I paused. She waited.

"You're still upset."

By her jaded stare, my deduction had served to be irritating more than anything else. "Yes, obviously."

"Why? The scandal was weeks ago. In the media's eyes, it's basically ancient."

"I don't care if the media's over it! God, you really don't understand this..."

Let me understand it.

"It's not my fault when you're not straightforward on what you're feeling."

"I have been completely straightforward since the start."

"No." It was difficult to hold back my frustration. "You haven't, because everything I've seen over the week has contradicted those so-called feelings."

"What are you talking about?"

"You being upset over Michael. Okay, I outed him for personal game but him hiding that was never going to end well. Don't feel guilty over a liar."

"Like you've got any right to be calling him that. You lied to the press and to me."

"When did I lie to you?"

"When you acted like you saw me as an equal but you just wanted another puppet. I let my guard down and told you something I obviously wasn't in the right state of mind to be saying and you took advantage of that."

"How would I have known that?"

"Because you weren't drunk! I don't know how you did it, but you faked all those shots. You were fully sober the whole time."

She never missed my tricks. "You noticed huh?"

"Yes so don't tell me you didn't know. You knew exactly what was going on. You, you used me." Weariness spilled from her voice, that usual steel veil bled out beneath us so abruptly, I hadn't known what to do at first.

"I used you?" I echoed.

"Yes, so don't try to make excuses-"

By then, I'd recoiled and the deep, seated chuckle filled the gap. That tender, crest fallen look on her face stilled amidst it. "Excuse me but what the hell is so funny?"

"Nothing, it's just... been a while I got to hear this stuff. God, that was all it was." That was it? This whole time? The indescribable feeling of something as acidic to malice but far gentler in how it melted like relief unfurled inside me. "Stevie, that's what you do in partnerships. You use each other. You help each other."

Her face soured. "I didn't sign up to help you ruin someone's career."

"His career was botched the moment he was being a fraud. Who knows how much worse the situation would've been if an outsider discovered it. I did him and St. Sinclair a favour."

"For selfish reasons."

"It was still the right thing, regardless," I countered. "We still did the right thing, Stevie."

"No no, no. Don't you dare say that. I didn't want any part in this." Once again, the gleam in her eyes betrayed what her mouth said.

She might not have completely wanted it but she had acknowledged the participation. It felt safer that way, was what I guessed she assumed. How long she thought she could fool herself with that shield, it had reached it's end now that I knew its core; shame.

The shame of being judged in a world that had no business even judging her.

I'd make sure to fix that misconception and fix her good. I was the only one who could.

"That's why I didn't tell you my plan." I rose up, her hardened gaze diligently following my paced steps towards her.

I could feel the adrenaline pumping through through me down to the very tips of my fingers as I traced the edge of the table, in anticipating to her hand. It was no less than a few inches now. So, so close.

I hid my urgency, sizing her up. "This is exactly the problem, Stevie. 'It's wrong to think badly of others'. 'It's wrong to think highly of yourself.' 'It's wrong to take revenge.' You hear all this growing up from friends and others constantly it's drilled into your head that it's the norm of a moral compass. That's where the difference is but here we are. In the same place, in the same club despite our complete different ethics. Don't you think that's incredible?"

She didn't respond, gaze fallen to my shoes. "And I've figured it out now," I carried on. "Your issue with the scandal was never how it effected Michael or his position. This was about you."

That was my mistake in not putting this together sooner. I tried to rationalise a mind just as unhinged as my own- ration didn't need to apply with her. With us.

Her eyes were wide, deeper and sharper than I'd ever seen them. It was hard to deduce if I was luring her out, or I was plunging into their abyss.

"This was all about you," I said quietly, although she was mere breaths apart that I could hear when she swallowed. And the sound of it, was everything. "Sure, maybe your conscience had you feel a sense of guilt, add to being genetically more emotional, it could give you the illusion you were devastated. If you want to argue on proof then let me say, if it was real, I'm sure you tried to at least get in touch with Michael or try to see how he's doing since then. Did you?"

Stevie still didn't speak.

"I'm guessing you didn't, just like how I'm guessing on the day it hit the news, you went home and slept with no problems. You only skipped school and called in sick out of your inbuilt rationalism. You behaved how you figured rationally you needed to and respond, even if you didn't actually feel it that deeply.

Why else would a girl who claims to want to spend time with her so-called friends waste it on me? You could've thrown any of our games to end it quickly but you didn't. You played because you liked it. Every 'independent' choice you make, Stevie isn't your own. It's all been programmed into you. How you should react, how you should feel, who you should associate yourself with- everything."

The silence that expanded could've easily been in eons to a lifetime and all the same, it probably still wouldn't be enough to suffice what we could convey.

It was a bittersweet feeling when she turned away, a scoff leaving her lips. "Could you cut it out for once, Garren? Seriously." Her hands were shaky when she tried to comb her curls. "You're just trying to look for a way around acting like an actual human being and just apologising if you don't want me to be upset with you."

"I have no problem apologising to you in regards of making you think I only offered to make you an Ace to take advantage of your trust. I didn't intend for that." And I was never more close to begging for the first time in my life that she would understand that, would finally see that.

"Stevie..."

I took ahold of her narrow wrist. Her body was stone clod, a rigid shell of her true form she'd granted me a sight and I would make sure she didn't regret it.

"Do you know the biggest reason why you spent your week playing board games with me?" I started.

"...Why?"

"Because around me, you don't feel lonely."

And as I said those words, a sheer look of horror struck her like an epiphany. She had to have seen it now. She had to.

"Am I right or not, Stevie Powell?"

She barely put up a fight when I lightly tugged her towards me. When her eyes momently darted to my lips, a thickness spurned in my chest, set to implode.

Then her phone beat me to it.

It seemed like a grenade had gone off to Stevie. She practically jumped apart from me, a biting ache as she broke her hand free in favour to retrieve her phone.

I knew at one look who was on the other end and my fingers were itching to pull the phone away. I was so close. So bloody close.

Once the call was over, I caught a ghost of that magnetic stare before the classic, distant gaze arose.

"Was that the loud one?" I asked.

"Yeah." She pocketed her phone in haste. "I was coming to tell you that I have plans. And I can't be bothered thinking up an excuse, so go ahead and write me up to Ms. Shepherds. I'm going."

"Okay then."

By her pause, she hadn't expected that. "I'm not kidding."

"I know you're not. And I won't write you up, so don't worry. You're free to go."

"What, you're just suddenly being all benevolent now?"

"No, I'm just not interested in getting into a fight about what I've already spelled out crystal clear for you. I came to play, nothing else. Have fun." It came out more bitter than intended but I could hardly restrain all the other emotions writhing under my skin.

"I will."

And she walked out.

PART X

There was no sign of Stevie the following day.

Or more accurately, since noon as my connections had tracked her attendance to be marked until her chemistry class. I'd guessed my words might've struck her hard but this felt different than the last time she became absent. Previously, it was notified to the academy beforehand.

I paid a visit to the headmaster's office and learnt a relative of sorts had abruptly picked her up. My nan refused to provide any further details on this aunt unless I obliged to owe her a favour and I was still regretting the last time I'd agreed to one.

Stevie's expression in the club room and the sensations that arose, which I was almost certain, she'd felt too were on an endless loop. It made it almost difficult to stay ahead of everybody else in the advanced lessons.

Seriously, that girl was aggravating without even being present.

Once lunch had clocked in, my eyes had strayed from my meal and incidentally, fell to the lower platforms. She usually hauled a table with her so-called friends at the far, west courtside of the hall and when coming up empty of those dark curls, my faint appetite was dwindling.

The other two, however, were occupied there like it was any other day.

I gave it a moment's thought before I found myself lingering in the area until the pair were done with their food. The shaggy haired one had started to go his separate way first, the loud one left to saunter along the east corridor on her own.

I was already beginning to suspect this was going to be a mistake, so I quickened my steps and her hazel eyes noticed me before I could turn around. There was a moment of confusion before her face scrunched into that distinct resentful glower.

"You're Stevie's friend, right?"

She merely blinked as a response, then aimed to sidestep past me. My feet were a tad quicker to intercept, blocking her attempt and simultaneously setting off this angered look. "I'm not talking to you." She spat.

"Just confirm for me that she's fine. You are capable of that much, aren't you? And it's the least you could do."

Her thick brows pinched, bewilderment hiking them to the frame of her fringe. "Excuse me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm quite sure I didn't stutter."

Her heated gaze hardened, hand on her hip. "I don't know or really care what you think being a friend is but amongst the general public and mentally stable, it doesn't mean I'm Stevie's secretary."

I cocked a brow. "You suck off your boyfriend with that mouth?"

I more or less, anticipated a swing at that point with the murderous waves flaring off of the girl. When something sunk in as her gaze squinted. "You're the one who told her, didn't you?"

If I didn't think her tone was hateful before, it certainly did now. However, that was more enticing to cause when it was intentional. "Told her what?"

"About my relationship, don't even fucking try to deny it. Stevie just bringing it up out of the blue made no sense- I should've known from the start it was all you again." She jabbed a finger on my chest. "You couldn't stop at forcing her into those stupid meetings, now you're trying to mess with her head. Are you obsessed with her or something?"

I couldn't begin to comprehend half of what she was going on about but I recognised that look on her anywhere; envy. And I relished in the sight of that. "If that's obsession, then your lethargic attitude towards Stevie's independent decision makes me think I really did have this definition of a friend all wrong, after all."

She scoffed. "Oh yeah? Well let me just point out to you, that if she didn't tell you where she went, then that means she doesn't want you to know."

I raised a brow at the sheer smugness underlying her crude response, prevalent to another emotion. "... You don't know where she is."

The veil peeled right off, alarm darting past before she viciously snarled. "What?"

"I didn't say anything about not knowing Stevie's whereabouts- I have plenty enough resources to get me that. I enquired on her emotional state, but that hasn't seemed to have even occurred to you that's a factor in why she left you in the dark-"

"Stevie didn't do that. You don't know what you're even talking about, fuck off."

I didn't get another word in when she'd thrown all her weight into slamming her shoulder into mine, trudging past in heavy strides. Fucking cunt.

I restrained myself from letting the glaring anger take it's toll, knowing for an unfortunate fact, Stevie probably wouldn't forgive me if I murdered her.

I resolved to try the Ace phone I bought, hopeful that sentiment taunt I threw at her was accurate enough. It proved to be the case when I hooked in on the GPS app I installed to find that the location was still in the same place the last time I looked in on. Her uncle's hotel.

My fingers lay suspended above the icon to dial. Even if she didn't see it or deliberately didn't answer, she would know at least. Know that I was there, still waiting all the same.

But that didn't suffice to satisfy me enough and I knew exactly where I was going to find myself that night before the mandate at my presence for dinner was lifted. Long before the guys had gone off to whatever party to fool around with whoever had their attention that week, I checked out early.

The entrance to the Grandeur Hotel was right in front of me that late, cold night in autumn. I hadn't known what I was planning to do as I ventured to the front desk, only to pause at something leering of the shadowy hallway to the lift at the far side.

The floor was entirely dead, save for her lone figure waltzing off in direction to what I quickly gathered was the indoor pool.

The vicinity was dark, evidently she was coming in long passed the regular open hours and only was issued the keys to unlock the doors from her uncle's latitude. I made sure to stay by the offered shadows in the dimly lit space, the light padding of her feet along the tiles echoed harrowingly into the spacious grounds.

The glass ceiling allowed the moon's light to taper inside to the body of water, casting a delicate sheen into it's dark depths. As I watched her slip off the towel, unveiling the Navy blue swimsuit, it all happened within a flash as she took on her form and launched herself into the pool.

Her decent into the dark swell was something I couldn't describe in any better detail than erroneously captivating. The first ten seconds her body was plunged in, almost no sign of her passage other than the ripples gripped my insides. Thoughts travelled through my mind at how parts of me ached when she would disappear, the agonising wait on when she would reveal herself again.

The silence, the emptiness, the fear that this time she slipped way, was going to be the last.

And when her head emerged, curls floating along the calm currents as her arms and legs kicked back to propel her forward, the emptiness was consumed and I let myself breathe.

I stayed there, watching her amateur swimming for what went on to be three hours before she climbed out on to the edge. The thought crossed my mind that that foul-mouthed friend had it backwards; as badly as I wanted to get into Stevie's head, she'd long since flooded herself into mine.

And I was drowning.

PART XI

The ambiance surrounding the conference room recently, had lost that tension that plagued it ever since I was appointed captain.

It was a little dull that the scent of their fear was distilled now that all were fixated on the IAO right around the corner, but it was where their priories needed to be. Mine should've been no different, yet there I was, attention divided by that twat sat amongst them.

There were notably a lot of stray eyes and whispering when gathered- no doubt, all had seen that latest video by the cardigan shaped cancer. It was rapidly circulating through schools even faster than the last one. My foothold on the academy would at least stop them from making it obvious what they wanted to gossip about but it didn't take a genius to know. Everybody knew.

So Stevie certainly was aware she was the newest subject of ridicule and speculation.

With how distressed she'd been at the game show incident, I imagined she would've looked more uneasy. The fact she wasn't, served to make me uneasy, when I wanted to rip off her head for doing that interview without my awareness.

She wasn't going to trust me, I had more or less accepted that. It didn't help matters like Will said though. It only made me feel incompetent. And it was sickening.

I ended the meeting quickly, my finger impatiently drumming on the table as the sample charts were collectively gathered up. Once they started leaving their seats, I let it out. "Stevie, a word."

She instantly stopped in the midst of rising from her seat. Heavy, visible abhorrence flickering in her features before she resigned to stay still.

Will and Ben were lingering until I urged them with a nod and after a moment of casting a look at Stevie, be it sympathy or concern, they left us alone in the room.

Stevie's mouth was already opening to speak, but I was going to be the one to start this. "Why wasn't I given a notice about the interview?"

She pursed her lips. "Oh, well I didn't want to do it- "

"Then why did you?"

"Ms. Shepherd didn't really give me an option."

"Which is exactly why you should've told me! You know that woman's got problems. She gets blinded by profit instead of using her head to consider there's more than likely a trap. To think she let some Parr princess get her- she's losing her touch." I sighed. "If you'd let me know, I would've gotten her to back off. Now she's conveniently not in her office today. Probably hiding out somewhere."

"Oh, so Ms. Shepherd isn't in today." I heard her mutter to herself, the corner of her lips actually curling upwards.

"And what are you looking all happy for?" Had she completely snapped? "Is this a situation to be smiling about, Stevie?"

"No, it's just- "

"I already told you this before. I'm on your side, you won't be left alone. Just let me handle things. There's no ulterior motive in it unless you want to count my own personal interest as one. What more do you want me to do to clarify this?" I could hear desperation trickling out of my voice but I'd lost track of when I could even care.

Stevie, though she definitely heard it, didn't flinch away. "You don't need to. I understand, Garren."

"No, you clearly don't. Otherwise- "

"I didn't do the interview."

I paused. "What?"

"I went to the university and considered doing what Ivanov wanted but I came to realise there wasn't anything better to me than what I get from you."

My mouth was left open, without any words contrived to utter out in the midst of soaking in her words. I was almost sure I'd heard her wrong, if not for the slightly abash expression she tried to cover up.

She really meant it.

By then, the grin was unstoppable to keep down from my face when finding my voice. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. And I need your help with something."

"Go on."

"... Actually, it would probably be better to leave it to lunch."

"Then say it quickly."

"No, I don't want to make you late."

I tried to sound not too eager. "Just tell me."

"You can't wait until break?"

"You could change your mind by then." And there went any illusion of trying...

"What?" She laughed, warmth lighting her callous expression and then she stopped, recognising that I wasn't joking.

It shifted into something even more tender and lambent, this foreign sensation my body underwent at lengthened exposure to Stevie were fervently growing with no signs of getting easier to brace for. That wasn't to say it was unwelcomed- quite the opposite.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hand," Stevie said suddenly.

And I had to just stare right ahead again, that same inkling of suspicion lurking that what was being said was different to what was told. Stevie simply just stood there though. Waiting for me to obey.

More out of curiosity than anything else, I resigned from the view to drop my eyelids and extended out my hand in the air. Within an instant, I sensed her start to shift. Right towards me.

Is she...?

No, Stevie wouldn't ever attempt to do something so bold. Though, having everyone else leave to have us alone... had I accidentally implied something?

I could measure the conference room we stood in to be at least, twenty feet in width, but in the dark, the numbers were just numbers. They wouldn't and couldn't deduce how close she stood. And by the tint of her zesty fragrance I smelt on her, her movement was advancing.

I pictured how she was looking at me, the kind of longing and pensive gaze she bore when she thought I wasn't watching- but I was always watching. Right now, I'd never been more driven by the desire to let her in on that. I pictured where those dark, endearing eyes were taking me in on my lips, carefully building that courage or whatever she saw fit to enquire before just simply asking for a taste.

Then all at once, something cold was laid in my open palm, greeted by the briefest brushes of fingers being they pulled back, leaving me more muddled than when my eyes were shut. As I opened them, I found an old modeled phone that had clearly seen better days.

"I've copied all my data onto my Ace one," Stevie said. "So I won't have any need for this one anymore."

I stared at her. Then back at the phone.

Oh.

The relief at realising she wasn't initiating a kiss was not as uplifting as it thought. Once certain I could keep my tone even, I looked to her. "So this is like an insurance?" I let it dangle between my loose grip, egging on for a reaction.

I felt like I'd gone through this a hundred times already. She could take a step forward and before I could take one closer, she peddled back. Over and over.

A pattern so tiresome, but I couldn't quit. Like some sort of addiction.

"Yeah, if you'd like," she said.

I carefully took her in for a moment, waiting only because it got more infuriating each time I let myself fall in line too quick, only to be disappointed.

Her gaze didn't even follow as I pocketed the phone, ardently trained on me. Where they always should be. "Alright. See you at lunch then."

PART XII

Will didn't waste a second to throw his hood back over his golden crown of hair and turn on his heels to descend from the golf course. Stevie almost immediately sprinted off after him, leaving me in the company of the vermin stroking his phone voice recording app in heinous glee before smuggling it back in those obscene, groin-strangling white trousers.

Honestly, you could convince me that earth revolved around a potatoe before I believed Charles Bradford wasn't gay. That closet was practically made of glass.

His slimy eyes found mine and I already knew what he was going to say, "You really haven't thought about sleeping with that delicious fruit cake even once?"

"Like I said before, Charlie-"

"Yes, yes girls. They all just fall at your feet, their clitorises just can't resist the uncultivated, misogynistic charm of Adler." He huffed. "Though, wouldn't you like to experience some real worship? I can see it in Willy there, it's just breathtaking. I'm telling you, simply say the word and he'd go down on you more dignifiedly than any other slut you've offered yourself to. Regardless of the shade of her, anyway."

There were quite a number of things that disgusted me but in the case of Bradford, he defined the meaning. Challenging my gag reflex on a whim and rekindled bloodlust that usually only was recognised around my family. And the cunt did it all so intentionally.

All at once, Charles tipped his head back in laughter. "My god, you should see the look on your face- I was kidding, mate. What's with you, has running that bookworm club gotten you all uptight?" He shook his head with mock pity. "It's just teasing like those good old days. I'd be hurt if you'd forgotten them." I could've sworn I heard something actual human in his softer tone before it vanished, vanity and sadism peeled back on his face. "Right then, lay out the details of this account and I'll have this little mystery X sorted out for you by next week."

"Next week? And I can hold you to that?"

"Of course."

I thought it over for a second, gaze drifting to the two figures already so small down the hill. "Have you by any chance finished up with that assignment I sent over?"

"Ah, yes. That." Charles turned, placing two fingers in his mouth and whistled out.

In the near distance, a younger lad polishing up a golf cart instantly straightened up and hurried over. The lad offered me a curt greeting, then proceeded to unzip the fanny pack strapped to his waist and peeking within the contents, was none other than my 'insurance' claim.

Charles took it upon himself to sink his hand in to fully retrieve it and shamelessly grope the lad just long enough for me to wish I gouged out my eyes. As Charles dismissed the lad with a nod, he scampered off.

"I finished it up last night," he said as he handed the device to me. "Most of the data was recovered."

"Most?"

"It's an absurdly old model, the CDR on the system is laughable. If you could even understand what lengths that exposed me to, you'd learn to be appreciate my skillset."

"If there ever came such a day, Charlie, I'd kill myself," I solemnly assured.

He wired on a hideously tight-lipped smile. "So, out with it then. Why did you need it so desperately?"

I slipped the phone into my inner coat back. "What gave you the impression I was desperate?"

"Oh, just the fact you rang me up in the dead of the night and personally saw to delivering it to me rather than getting a PA, just to name a few things. Though, I didn't really get curious until I saw the newbie- Stevie, was it?"

I served him a long, hard look and in his smile growing morbidly wider did it click that earlier taunt wasn't coincidental. He'd deliberately gone for a nerve he knew could rupture.

"And now you're curious about her?" I questioned, tampering the hostility threatening to spill.

"Nothing of the sort. I'm solely curious as to why you'd resort to behaving like some paranoid boyfriend, it has me concerned, truly." He placed a hand to his chest and made an expression I assumed was what he thought empathy looked like. "Is she blackmailing you?"

"No."

"Then what is it then?"

I wanted nothing more than to tell him to piss off, but when he got curious, he became beyond even my abilities to stifle. "I'm not quite sure yet."

PART XIII

"Here."

Whether it was the reflection from the windshield or real intrigue, Stevie's dark eyes glimmered as she claimed the grey box I presented. She carefully removed the lid, the phone perched on the velvet padding exposed to her.

I held my breath, watching the glimmer rapidly go dim, creases forming between the skin separating her eyebrows and looking rather perplexed. "A phone..." Her tone was genuinely confused by this.

So she can hug Will for laughing at her chemistry jokes but I get a dry stare for purchasing the latest iPhone not even in national stores yet? Right.

"Newest model," I said. Perhaps she just hadn't been up to date with these kind of things and just needed context to understand how grateful she was meant to be. "I was going to hand it to you at the meeting with Will and Ben but the delivery arrived a little earlier. It's not in stores yet, so black was the only available colour."

"But I already have a phone. The one you gave me."

"Yes, last month's model. This..." I pointed. "... Is the latest one. It's newer." I enunciated each syllable, wondering if this was what they called a language barrier.

Evidently, Stevie didn't appreciate my attempt to speak lower class. "Garren, I get it but I'm fine with the first one you gave me."

"It's outdated."

"So? I like it and I've hardly used it for two weeks. Don't tell me you guys just throw out your phones every time the companies make a new one."

"Yes."

For some reason, she appeared stumped by this, mouth slightly open before she resigned to shake her head. "Forgot who I was talking to..."

I sat with my hands on my knees, awaiting an expression of gratitude in the form of words, a hug, even- maybe a kiss on the cheek. Nothing.

She simply marvelled the device in awe and I concluded that was about as much consideration she would give the gesture. What was worst, I couldn't even feel surprised.

I decided this was a better time than any to get on with something circling my mind. "So, how did you do it?"

"Mmm? Do what?"

"Me sleeping with Ivanov. How did you know?"

She spared me a glance, then looked back to the phone. "I told you, figure it out yourself."

This little... "I gave you my answers when you asked what the offer was. That's not fair."

"Oh wow, you've got no clue do you?" Honestly, there was nothing more insidious than the sound of Stevie's laughter; maniacal to no end. "Well that's odd. How can a certified genius such as yourself be having difficulty with a little something a girl like me with rotten brain cells put together in under two minutes?"

She was shamelessly taunting me and I knew better than to take the bait. I did.

"It was just a fluke, wasn't it? Yeah, that's what it was. All this isn't any real achievement. It was all a lucky guess and that's why you don't want to tell, because there's nothing to tell. Ha! Nice try, Powell."

I turned to the window before that infuriating, smug look of appeasement in riling me up further and sedated the restlessness by focusing on the view of greenery. In a few minutes, the grounds of Harvey Julliard would be in sight and it was a long shot to hope Charles was less bothersome, but one could dream.

I heard the distinct noise of a phone vibrating and caught the reflection of Stevie moving to retrieve the phone. A dejected look cast on her features, although nowhere as morose as when it had to do with those old friends of hers.

Leaving one other alternative; Shaun.

The name stuck out as a sore thumb amongst the list of contacts on her phone in the restored data. Their history of message exchanging dated to roughly a month or so.

And I could've gone on to know more yet, oddly enough, I couldn't bring myself to read the texts or go through with any of it. I became hesitant at the thought of what Stevie might think if I did, despite there being no chance she would know. It plagued my mind to the extent, I'd gone and deleted it all.

I really couldn't make sense of myself lately.

"Okay, you wanna know how I knew?" Stevie suddenly spoke up.

I feigned interest on the rows of trees blurring together. "It was just a lucky guess."

"Do you want me to tell you or not, Adler?"

There was something particularly enticing about the when she addressed me formally. Maybe, it was due to the lack of any reverence she spat it out compared to the majority but that could be chalked up to ignorance. Nonetheless, it served to par on a foreign plane of acknowledgement.

I faced her, folding my arms nonchalantly but she probably knew she'd successfully reeled my interest. "Go on then."

"It was a guess-"

"Ha! Knew it."

"And..." She snapped back. "Because of your change in mention disposition."

"My what?"

"With people you disregard or girls haven't slept with, you to tend to refer to them by demeaning names. Like, Ms. Feminism compromise for Amina. But on the phone this morning, you didn't refer to Ivanov as a Parr princess or a half done tart even once. I think it's some sort of subconscious click in growing familiar from intimacy.

There's also the fact you said you went to the university and I found that unnecessary. Going out of your way for a little exploitation- I mean, negotiation. You could've done it through the phone, easy. Then lastly, Ivanov is a beautiful, intelligent woman who takes care to her appearance. So why wouldn't you?"

Everything I mentioned before about ignorance? No, this was far from it. Nor could I hold ground to deduce it as mere intellect, there were many to rival it but not a single one I could name to match with Stevie Powell's. She probably would've called me mad if I went on about this all tied to fate but, it had to be.

I realised I had just been staring when she broke the silence. "Well? Are you satisfied? Or what, was that not in depth enough for your...?"

She stopped probing at once when I brought a hand to gently stroke her hair. Notably, she would tense up if I ever initiated physical contact. I tried not to do it suddenly, if that was the issue but, impulsiveness tended to be a bodily reaction around her.

"Five stars," I said.

"What's five stars?"

"You." How could she figure all of that out about me but be so oblivious about this?

"Oh... out of what?"

"Five, Stevie. If you have to ask."

"Of course I have to ask. You just randomly start blurting things out." The large grin spreading betrayed her show of annoyance. "So, I was good?"

I nodded. "It must be thanks to my presence that sped the recovery of your fried cells, now that I think about it. The only logical explanation."

"Right, of course."

She turned away again, leaving me to indulge in half her face hidden and her statement repeating through my mind. "A change in mention disposition." Taking the words into my own tongue spurned on this feeling inside me. "I had no idea I did something like that."

"Well like I said, it's a subconscious thing so you wouldn't notice it."

"But you did." She always did.

I found her eyes already back on me, appearing stinted by my response which I couldn't help but me amused. I was beginning to think that lately, other than the physical distance slimming down between us, she'd started paying closer attention to my words. To the underlying tones, the meanings and everything I couldn't find the verbal cords to convey.

Because when she looked at me this way, it really felt like she could read my mind and the depths beyond it.

And there was nothing quite so exhilarating and daunting like it.

The hoarse noise of Stevie clearing her throat tore through the stillness that encapsulated us.

"Um, yes. Yes I did."

"I knew you'd be perfect."

She blinked. "As an Ace." It left her lips in a shaky breath, somewhat forceful to when she'd pull away.

I wasn't letting her get far again. No fucking way.

So I put on a smile and agreed. "Yeah."

And when I reached for her hand, I acted quick to slip her fingers in between. The heat that expanded when she involuntarily curled her fingertips into the back of my hand had the impulses kicking up onto the double. It took a second for her to ease into it, the gentle squeeze to follow was all intentional this time and when she lightly exhaled, I was sure she understood.

No matter what was said and done, there was no escaping this for either of us.

PART XIV

I realised Risoni had become something of a comfort when it was the first place to come to mind once the call I'd been expecting finally came in.

I wasn't sat waiting at the reserved table for too long by the time he strolled in. It was hard not to stare so much at the sight of it, when only familiar with the two wheels accompanying his every move up until he vanished.

Michael pulled out a chair as naturally as anyone else, settling down on the seating right across from me. The motion in which he threw one leg over the other just as fluid, elbows rested on the table rather than rims was jarring, to say the least.

For someone who's been a thorn in the tabloids a little over two months ago, he looked remarkably well. Relocation and change of surnames truly did wonders. Not to mention, the absurd speed in which the media swept up our society's actions under the rug once given something else to chew on.

"I have to admit, I originally agreed to come just so I could... well-"

"Stand me up?" I supplied. Michael gave me a flat look. "What? You're not crippled so technically, it isn't even an appropriate phrase to be making anyway. And come on, it's awkward you were even looking for an alternative."

He rolled his eyes. "I gave in because I couldn't be too sure what you, of all people, would want to see me for."

"Well, I actually had a lot of things I would've thought to share if you hadn't up and left after, y'know."

"You publically ousted me and hijacked my wheelchair?"

"Mm, I'd rather like to think of it as more like I confiscated it. But that's all water under the bridge, isn't it? I mean, you got back on your feet." I grinned.

Michael's stare was completely neutral, not even blinking for several seconds before he said, "Fuck you."

"Oh, done with the goody-two shoes attitude now that you're no longer captain?" I couldn't deny, it was rather satisfying to hear.

"Look, if you just planned to have a go at me because you're bored, then I'll be on my way."

"It's not that," I hastily said as he began to rise. "I swear. Sit, please." Though skepticism lay on his visage, Michael reclaimed his seat. "I'm sure you remember the IAO is coming up in a couple of days and I figured that I could, y'know, with the way you plan ahead, you'd have a scheme drafted out."

"Well, I didn't hear about them moving up the date because of the global warming stuff until after I got kicked out. So no, I didn't plan or draft out anything yet."

"Right. Well, what about the previous year? You'd still have those, wouldn't you?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"I figured I could take a look and get some insight on it."

Michael simply stared.

"... If that's alright with you," I added.

"You're actually being serious."

"Of course I am. I mean, this might not have anything to do with you anymore but that doesn't necessarily change the fact you went through this twice and came up with great results. It's common sense to use all the resources I have at my disposal, regardless of personal grounds if it means contriving the most effective stratagem."

There was a shift in his gaze, as though he was only seeing me now for the first time. "... Are you worried?"

I didn't flinch. It might've come across as such by my irregular pause but it was just the shock in hearing such an absurd question. "No."

"Garren, it's completely understandable to be a little on edge. There's a lot of pressure and you're no experienced in handling team management. Hell, I was still stressed the second time round. That tie last year hung over me for months, even when I could see everyone else had gotten passed it- it's different for you and me. Captaincy is a bigger burden than they can imagine." He lightly shook his head, a sad smile stretching out on his lips. "Frankly, I hadn't thought you'd care and were only after my spot for the authority and to lord it over everyone. I misjudged you."

I could only stare back, finding the situation a little out of balance. I did initially arrange this meeting to apologise, yet here I was feeling like the one subjected to the expression of remorse.

I wasn't sure how that happened but perhaps it was best not to admit he hadn't gotten it wrong and my intentions had been those exact things at the start. I'd gladly carry that truth to the grave than confess I hadn't thought that plan through in the long-run.

I ordered appetizers while he searched through his system files for any drafts to prior IAO schemes and I in turn, provided him the documents of what I'd put together so far.

"This all looks really versatile, I'm impressed. I don't see any thing noted down for Ian and Alex or Philip, though..."

I nearly asked him who he was referring to before it clicked soon enough. "Oh. Yeah, they quit."

"What? All three of them?"

I nodded.

A pause fell in which I was almost certain he didn't buy that bullshit, but either way, moved it along. "Well, you know captains can't play solo matches so have you considered anyone for infield?"

"... I was thinking I'd let Stevie handle it."

He raised a brow. "Stevie? Alright."

That response far exceeded anything I had been expecting. "You don't really sound surprised."

"I am but after remembering Ewen saying you insisted on Stevie being your partner on that game show, it seems she's made quite the impression on you."

For a mute, he sure could gossip. "I guess you could say that."

"Tell me, who was it again who referred to her as a feminist quota?"

I clenched my jaw, catching the vivid satisfaction on the prick's face. "... I misspoke."

"Misspoke, really? You seemed very coherent to me."

"I made a hasty and obviously incorrect assumption of her now, can we just move on? Please," I quietly added. Thankfully, he conceded with a nod. "I'm confident in her abilities," I reasoned. "She unfortunately tends to underestimate them. I feel like the opportunity could help fix that."

"I suppose. Though it's quite a big ordeal to undertake, especially with this being her first time participating in the tournament. Be sure to let her know as soon as possible."

**

I found that conversation with Michael running back to mind when the repetitive knocking at my hotel room door started. I'd opened it, wary of those Tokyo Tech tyrants out to strike with more definitely-not-water balloons but instead, saw Stevie.

I really didn't think she would take me up on my offer even if she'd accepted the key card. So I was a little shocked to say the least at her at my room that night.

I proved myself right something was off the moment I heard the distress in her voice. The panic and hurt straining her otherwise callous visage as she lashed out on the infield position. It wasn't like I intended to hide it.

I was still just in doubt whether I was pushing for too much because of my nan breathing down my neck on expectations. Or whether I was letting my internal interests obstruct logical thinking again.

When she finally seemed to be accepting me and relying on me, I hadn't wanted to think about anything else. Evidently, I made the worst call possible.

I managed to settle her down before she could strangle me and as we stood with her arms wrapped so tightly around me like she wouldn't ever let go. I could feel the erratic pace of her heartbeat against my chest, protruding my own past the layers of clothes and ribs separating them. Soon, they felt indistinguishable and colluded into one organ, two minds too far gone to recognise all else beyond this.

At least, for that singular moment before reality crashed in and her arms loosened as she pulled her head back. Madly enough, I was certain I could still feel her heartbeat locked in to her intense gaze that slowly trailed to my neckline.

A finger traced along the bridge of my wrinkled collar where her vice grip had been squeezing; now it was stretched and tousled.

"I'm really sorry about your shirt," she mumbled out.

"It's fine."

"It isn't. I seriously don't know what's wrong with me, I-I wasn't like this before. Or at least, I didn't think I was..." The breath she let out shaky, but her eyes never wavered. She was entranced as much as she was terrified.

And it was beautiful.

"Stevie, look at me." My hands found their way to the sides of her face in the same second those dark pupils pour into me again. I'm more than used to the drowning side effect, breathing was an afterthought.

"It's fine," I repeated. "The way you are now, it's fine- to me it is. If that counts for something." The hopefulness bled out in that last note, waiting and waiting on endlessly that it was heard.

I felt the shift against my fingertips brushing along her cheek as the candid smile split open on her face. "This might be a really stupid thing to ask but... you know there's something seriously wrong with you, right?"

I nodded.

"...Okay." Warmth engulfed me once more when she fell back into me, a contended sigh floating against the bounded space we enclosed as the words traversed beneath it. "Thank you, Garren."

The pounding against my chest accumulated again and I was far too lost in the bliss to know where it originated from. Not that it really mattered. Now that I had her the way she always had me.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it and sorry again I didn't get round to posting this on Christmas like I planned. The one other issue I had was that even upon writing the second book of Adler, I was ambivalent at writing it out in third POV even if I knew it would help the story flow because I was wary on how to convey Garren's thought process even through a third person lens. I got through it one way or another, even going on to fully diving into the third book but I could still argue that was easier since Garren's warped mind had digressed and he wasn't an immature teenager.

I still am a bit unsure about how I wrote it out and would gladly welcome feedback on what you thought. Votes are welcome too of course! Also, feel free to check out my newest romance book, Vanilla & Smoke; the telling of an unusual love between an oddball pair.