CHAPTER 36: CH 36: THE PARTY.

He stepped onto the bus with the others and followed Eli as they made their way to the back seat.

They sat together—Quinn next to the window, Eli between them like the human version of a traffic cone, and Aegon on the edge.

He stood for a moment, glancing over at the rows of students scattered across the dim interior.

Half-lit faces. Shadows. Neon strips someone stuck along the ceiling flickering like they were fighting for their lives.

"This is it?" he asked, leaning toward Eli.

"What?"

"This all of us?"

"Nah." Eli flicked his wrist like the explanation bored him.

"There’s more than one drop location. If every Novus in the entire school was headed to one place, we’d get caught in two seconds. Hence, different locations."

"Oh." Aegon sat back just as the bus growled awake and lurched forward.

The ride was chaos.

Not violent chaos—just the loud, messy teenage kind that sounded like the inside of a shaken soda can.

Half the bus was laughing too hard, the other half yelling over people laughing too hard. Someone kept chanting "SHOT! SHOT! SHOT!" even though nobody had anything to shot with yet.

Aegon tuned them out.

He stared out the window instead—watching the world smear past in streaks of streetlight gold and city-bleu blur, the wind slicing in cold through Quinn’s cracked window.

Somewhere between the buzzing noise and the rhythmic bumps of the road, he felt that familiar hollow in his chest.

That tiny reminder he wasn’t built like these people. Not the main character. Just orbiting other people’s gravity.

The bus stopped.

They filed off into the night, the muffled thump of distant music already bleeding into the air like a heartbeat waiting for company.

Aegon stepped out and froze.

Claire Davenport’s place wasn’t a house. It was a statement.

A sleek, minimalist mini-mansion sat at the end of a curved driveway. Clean lines. Pale stone. Thin black window frames. Soft recessed lights glowing under edges like the building was levitating. It wasn’t loud wealth—it was the kind that whispered "I don’t need to prove anything."

The double doors were glass, tinted just enough to reflect their silhouettes. The kind of place where you just knew security cameras were judging you from angles you couldn’t even imagine.

"Welcome to royalty," Eli announced proudly, already bouncing on his heels.

Quinn raised a brow. "She lives here alone?"

"She lives here with her money," Eli corrected. "Same thing."

They walked up the steps.

The moment the door swung open— the music slammed into them like a physical wall.

Bass vibrating the floorboards. Treble slicing the air.

People yelling over people who were yelling over a DJ playlist that was definitely not legal.

Inside, the vibe hit like a punch of colour and heat.

Students everywhere. Drinks in every hand. Someone was crowd-surfing already.

Two people were arguing over a spilled cup near the kitchen.

A table in the living room was taken hostage by an intense beer pong tournament.

A neon sign on the wall read: "BAD DECISIONS BUILD CHARACTER."

Eli clapped Aegon on the back. "Let the chaos begin."

He was gone within seconds.

A girl with dark eyeliner grabbed Eli by the collar, whispered something into his ear, and dragged him into the crowd.

Aegon blinked. "Even for him that was fast."

Quinn snorted. "He’s a golden retriever in human skin. Of course he got scooped instantly."

Before he could reply—

"Of course you’re here."

Cara’s voice cut in like a blade dipped in annoyance.

Aegon turned. Yep. There she was, red hair curled, black crop top, eyes narrowed like she’d been waiting to be irritated.

Quinn stepped forward without hesitation.

"Cara," she said flatly.

"Quinn," Cara mirrored.

Tension. The we might start a fight right now kind.

"WHOOOO!!" Cheers erupted from around the beer pong table that drew the three’s attention.

Cara’s face twisted in her signature contort of irritation just as Quinn scoffed.

"What?" Cara mocked. "You think you could do better?"

"I know I could do better than you at least."

A beat of silence—and then Cara pointed at the beer pong table across the room.

"Settle it?" she asked.

Quinn tossed her ponytail. "Absolutely."

And just like that, they marched off, ready to wage war over plastic cups and fermented water.

Aegon didn’t follow.

He drifted to a couch in a shadowed corner of the huge living room and sank into it, watching the chaos swirl around him.

The party moved without him. Parties were never really his thing both in this world and his last. Something about it all was unsettling.

He pulled his jacket closer, staring at the blur of dancing silhouettes and laughter and terrible decisions stacking up like dominoes.

He wasn’t the main character. Not here. Not anywhere. Just your average edgy side character who wanted to survive.

He sighed, pushing himself up and heading toward the drink table. Maybe a refill would turn his brain down a notch.

He grabbed a cup. Turned. And immediately spilled half of it onto someone.

"Oh—crap—sorry—!" he blurted.

The girl in front of him gasped softly, looking down at her soaked top.

She was stunning.

Dark blonde hair, not quite waves but not straight either—something effortlessly messy like she’d run her hands through it one too many times.

Light hazel eyes—almost gold under the party lights.

Sharp features softened by delicate freckles across her nose.

A cream-colored top that absolutely did not deserve the splash of red drink soaking into it. At least her jacket covered most of it.

""I—uh—my bad," Aegon stammered, brain momentarily unplugged.

She blinked down at the stain... then at him... and sighed like the universe personally offended her.

"It’s fine," she said, though the tone translated to: you’re clearly not used to being in nice places.

"Seriously. I should’ve looked where I was walking."

"No, no, it’s definitely my fault. I’m an idiot." Aegon ditched his cup like it betrayed him. "I can help you clean it."

She eyed him—slowly—like she was checking if he was capable of operating a towel.

"You sure?" she asked, voice gentle but laced with that soft, rich-girl condescension. "I don’t want you panicking over fabric softener."

"Yeah," he deadpanned. "Think I can manage water."

She gave a tiny smirk, then turned and walked through the crowd, expecting him to follow like a servant trailing royalty.

He did—dodging sweaty dancers, dodging louder voices, dodging the general chaos.

She didn’t wait for him once.

Down the hall, she opened a door and stepped inside.

The bathroom was... excessive.

Marble everywhere.

Soft light glowing from places that didn’t even make sense.

A mirror large enough to confront all your unresolved trauma.

Towels folded like they attended private school.

Aegon grabbed a towel, ran it under warm water. "Here—uh—this should help."

She lifted her chin a little as he stepped closer, like she was mentally preparing herself to tolerate him being within a two-foot radius.

Still, she let him dab at the stain.

He tried not to get awkward about the whole "sorry for touching your entire existence" situation—

Then her lip trembled.

A breath hitched.

Her shoulders stiffened like she was fighting it.

And then... she cracked.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.

Just this tiny, painful fall-apart — the kind someone tries to swallow but can’t.

She turned her face away instantly, jaw tight, like she was ashamed to even be seen crying.

Aegon froze. "Whoa—hey—hey, what’s wrong?"

She shook her head hard, palms pressed over her eyes, her breath stuttering uncontrollably.

And just like that, all the attitude dissolved into something raw and fragile.

He set the towel aside.

"Alright," he murmured. "You don’t have to explain anything. Just breathe. I’m here."

Her knees buckled slightly. He instinctively guided her to sit on the edge of the marble counter.

She cried harder.

And for once, Aegon didn’t try to fix anything.

He just stood beside her, one hand hovering near her shoulder in case she needed it, letting her fall apart without judgment.

After a minute that felt like ten, she finally wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Sorry," she whispered. "This is... embarrassing. It’s just with the trial coming up and everything, this party was supposed to take my mind off life but unfortunately, it’s not working."

"Damn. I feel that. A lot of us here might actually not survive."

She whipped her head to him in an expression that said it all. "What? That’s what you say to cheer someone up?"

She pushed off the edge and moved a few steps away from him.

’Shit. I ruined it.’ He thought as he made up an excuse to leave. "I’m gonna leave."

He stood to exit the room. Just before—

"Wait."

Aegon froze in place with his hands fixed on the door handle.

"I- I" she stammered, "I want you to have sex with me."