Reckless – Episode 25&26

RECKLESS

Reckless – Episode 25&26

→ Out•Of•Control ←

[Book 1 in The Untamed Duet]

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, or reposted in any form, or by any means without a BOLDLY written permission from ME.

Copyright © 2025

Naomi Cindy B.

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★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

[Mind Garden]

Stacy sat cemented in her car, right hand around her phone and her two eyes staring at the number that just called her. Cove’s.

She’s looking at Mind Garden right now. She only has to make a little curve past the little bed of trees around, and she’d be right in front of the building, but now she has been caught between a half-broken bridge.

She’s in a huge dilemma.

Her phone screen is still lit cos her thumb is on it, and her head looks like a disaster is occuring inside.

Why would Cove suddenly call and offer her a class?

Why the heck would he call at the same time she has a tutorial session with Dorian?

A piece of her hair fell to her brows, and she slowly pushed it back with her palm.

She still doesn’t have an answer to her mind dilemma, but she can’t possibly stand Dorian up, right?

He offered a tutorial by himself, so she can’t trash that kindness.

“Drive forward,” she told her driver, but immediately the car engines purred, she jerked.

The Mixer!

What if Cove refuses to come if she fails to go to him right now?

She can’t even read him or his plan for this move, but one thing is for sure; she has to go.

She told the driver to stop the car just when it has barely moved, then she positioned her phone in two hands and punched a text to Dorian.

Stacy: I have a terrible migraine, i suddenly got night sickness so I don’t think I’d make it. Don’t wait.

That’s a big fat lie, but she can’t possibly tell him she’s off to see the egoistic Cove for her own reasons.

Her driver pulled out of that curve, and as they drove down the dark road, she feels something nipping at her mind, faintly but still there…

Guilt.

In the building, Dorian already finished drinking the apple drink he picked, and he has also played a full note from his guitar.

It’s been twenty minutes, and she should have arrived since ten minutes ago, so what went wrong again? Why is she not calling or sending him a text?

He dropped the guitar, taking his phone, and that was when he remembered he actually turned it off cos of Angela’s preposterous text.

He switched on the phone, and it responded with a buzz the moment the screen clicked.

It’s a new message from five minutes ago…sent by Brat.

“She suddenly got migraine? Night sickness?” He muttered.

Same girl who texted him that she’d be here in ten minutes?

Is he being weird by not believing this new text?

He tried calling her line, but it’s off.

See? He’s not weird after all cos why would a sick person turn off her phone? Can’t be electricity issues cos he’s sure her dad’s mansion spends billions on lightning yearly, so why?

He left the guitar on the table, then he closed the songbook and left the building, but one of his guards around the building came to him.

“Sir, we sighted a car around the curve some minutes ago—a pink McLaren,” he reported.

Dorian’s brows bunched.

“So two of our men followed the car to be sure it doesn’t belong to stalkers, and we found out the car is registered under Stacy Montana’s name.” The guard nodded.

“Stacy came here?” Dorian muttered, bypassing the guard.

“Very sure she did, sir.” The guard replied before returning to his post.

“I’m not crazy. I’ve always trusted my intuitions,” Dorian muttered, dialling her line again.

It’s still off.

“The men who followed her car, do they still have the coordinates of her route?” He asked.

That guard came back running.

“Yes, she was driving towards the Eastside road.” He said.

Dorian’s eyes shadowed.

Eastern road leads to many locations, but Stacy can’t be going to a grocery store when she has maids. She can’t be going to a church when she doesn’t look like a believer.

She can’t be going to a party either… Stacy and her friends frequently use Gunner clubhouse, and it’s nowhere near eastern, which leaves out just one location.

The streets.

The dark streets were illegal factories and old garages are.

No Sleep Garage.

He’s just gonna have to see for himself if it’s true.

“Take me outta here,” he ordered his driver, and the car door was quickly opened for him, but before he could get inside, a smaller car drove into the small driveway.

Angela came down from the car, looking puffed. Pale face, painfully red eyes and bent figure. She’s holding her tummy, groaning.

“Angel?” Dorian went closer.

“Why was your phone off?” The 45 years old woman sniffled. “I really haven’t felt this way with my period before. The cramps are killing me I wanna crawl under a rock and just die…” She muttered.

“Don’t say such things, you’ll be fine…I thought you sent me that text to bring me back home cos you didn’t want me to tutor Stacy, didn’t know you were real…” Dorian placed an arm on her shoulder.

“Why would I not want you to tutor her? I’m just in pains,” Angela took his hand, bringing it to her tummy.

“Touch, feel it. You can feel my contractions,”

“It isn’t right, Angel. The nurses will touch you when we arrive at the hospital,” Dorian withdrew his hand.

“But you’re like a son to me, don’t shy away,” Angela shook her head.

“Get in the car, Angela.” Dorian replied sternly, voice hard.

“Ok…” She nodded, and he guided her back as she climbed into his car.

Angela sat comfortably on the backseat, and Dorian adjusted her legs for her which she enjoyed, but it’d be more enjoyable if those hands were inside her clothes instead.

What’s his face gonna look like when he sees her naked?

That thought made her eyes open a bit, hunger and thirst are so deeply encapsulated in those eyes.

But not hunger for food nor thirst for water. It’s obvious who she’s hungry and thirsty for.

She had to spray mace on her eyes to make them red, then she ate unripe mangoes to give herself stomach ache, then she came here, and thankfully, it’s not in vain.

She got him.

Luckily, that sneaky Stacy girl isn’t anywhere around him.

Dorian slipped into the backseat beside her, and she quickly closed her eyes back as the drive to the hospital began.

Dorian’s mind isn’t in the car at all. Agreed, he’s worried about Angela’s health, but ninety nine percent of his attention is on Stacy who’s not even in this car with him.

He’s just gonna drop Angela off for treatment in the hospital, and once she sleeps on soporific, he’s gonna still go check the garage.

—

[No Sleep Garage]

Stacy found out it wasn’t a joke or prank when she arrived thirty minutes ago. Cove really did make the call, it wasn’t a modulated voice.

When she arrived, she met him trying to lift a car on top of a carriage truck with some street boys.

She sat on the only available chair in the garage front, her backpack containing her books still on her back, and she was only able to watch the push for few minutes before they were able to push the car on top of the truck.

No idea where they’re taking it, but one of the guys drove the truck out of the garage immediately.

The others were giving her unfriendly looks as they left the garage, and Cove went to the tap beside a linoleum wall to wash his hands. He wore leather when they were lifting the car, so his hands are clean, his he still washed.

He was wiping with an handkerchief as he walked to her.

Seems Trevor and Matteo aren’t here cos she’s not seeing them anywhere.

“Where is the truck taking the car to?” She asked.

“A junkyard,” he answered flatly without insulting her, and that strangely felt refreshing.

He talked without saying something harsh? Medal soon.

He entered the spare room, and minutes later, he emerged.

Now he has changed his garage gear and he’s wearing a armless black shirt…not any of his hoods.

Then a jean under it…at least that one is constant.

He’s with his backpack too, and he pulled a chair and a table closer to where he sat.

With the table between them, he sat on the other chair opposite her, and her eyes caught the way his muscles moved almost mechanically under his skin. It’s the first time she’s seeing him wear armless, so ogling a bit won’t make her go to hell.

The slam of his laptop on the table made her look away from his open arms, and she focused.

“So…you left your other tutor hanging?” He said in a flat voice, opening the laptop.

“What do you mean left my other tutor hanging? You think I wanna come here?” She smirked.

“Why are you now here?” He looked up, his smirk mirroring hers.

“I want a favor from you about the Mixer! Of course I’d do everything I can to make sure you come! I’d rather receive tutoring from Dorian instead of you so get over yourself. What do you even know about mass comm? You’re a computer science student anyways,” she hissed.

“The syllabus,” he replied like he didn’t hear what she just ranted.

She threw the flat book on the table, and he pulled it open, his eyes scanning till he saw the perfect topic to treat.

Media Framing & Public Perception.

He leaned back in his chair, his shirt cuffing around his joint, pen already twirling between his fingers.

“Listen,” he started, face too too calm but holding that topping of coldness that’s never lost. “Boring course you’re offering, but at least there’s a subject that don’t induce sleep.”

Stacy folded her arms. “There you go. I’ve been expecting something offensive from you.”

He cleared his throat once. “Framing is basically how the media packages a story. Same event, different angles, different reactions.”

She tilts her head. “Example?”

“If a protest happens,” he said, leaning forward now. “One news outlet might frame it as ‘citizens demanding justice.’ Another might call it ‘rioters causing chaos.’ Same protest. Different frame. Different emotional response.”

Stacy’s brows lifted, her interest bigger. “So it’s about word choice?”

“Don’t be slow, it bores me,” Cove muttered. “Word choice, visuals, what they emphasize, what they ignore,” he corrected. “Media doesn’t just report reality. It constructs it.”

Stacy nodded slowly. “So is framing intentional manipulation?”

He smirked, but his eyes are paused. “Sometimes. Sometimes it’s bias. Sometimes it’s ideology. Sometimes it’s just editorial priority.”

Stacy scribbled something down on her own laptop for five straight minutes, then she paused. “How does this affect public opinion long term?”

His expression shifted, his smirk giving impressed.

He tapped the table once.

“Repeated framing shapes narratives. Narratives shape beliefs. If the media consistently frames a group negatively, the audience starts associating that group with negativity automatically. It’s conditioning.”

She studied him for a short-while. “So media has power.”

“Massive power,” he replied.

“What about social media? Does framing apply there too?”

His smirk fases. “Obviously, memes are frames. Hashtags are frames.”

She exhaled. “This is deeper than I thought.”

“You’re shaming your dad here, Bad Idea… The daughter of a media mogul have little to no knowledge of mass comm?” His smirk returned.

“Cove—”

“What? Are you gonna start crying like your friend? What’s her name? The one at the golf field?” He cut in, his head going back.

“Zendaya? You don’t even know her name?” Stacy’s eyes nearly popped.

“Why should I know her name?” He leaned forward. “It’s already enough that I know the name of one dullard. Another name would be outright torture,” he said.

Stacy picked her sparkling water bottle from the table and threw it at him. Thankfully it’s capped, so water didn’t spill, but he picked it up with a dry mocking smile and dropped it back on the table.

She’s still glaring at him from the other end, and he leaned his elbows on it, leaning in.

“Don’t get defensive when someone calls you what you really are. You’re a dullard, Stacy. Your dad owns media houses across the country, but you’re lowly informed, so what was the plan before?” He gave her a eyeball to eyeball look.

Stacy’s neck is nearly at bursting point right now. She’s not breathing as the insults kept coming.

“When you graduate uni with a forged 5.00 CGPA, you’ll be thrown into your dad’s biggest media houses as a pretty news anchor, is that it?” His brows went up.

Stacy stood abruptly, taking the bottled water again.

She opened it to wet him, but he talked again…

“It’s not too late. Get tutorials for your dad too…he studied mass comm in school too, didn’t he?” He said.

Her hand went down.

She sat back.

“Don’t just talk about my dad if you don’t know anything…”

“What? Is he an absent dad who only sends you money? He’s never home?” His eyes went low. “Now it’s clear why you’re an attention-seeker.”

And that was the last one.

She poured the water on him, wetting his face to his shirt.

He sat there, still. Even as the water crawled down his body.

Stacy got her books and system back into her backpack, and she lifted it, stumping to the gate.

But she could only open it. Before she could step out, a firmer hand took it from her and slammed it shut.

She was faced with Cove once again. When did he get behind.

Her back rested on the closed gate, and she looked up at his annoyingly tall figure as he stole her space.

He raised a bottle of engine oil on her head, ready to pour.

She gasped.

“It was water on you! Why the fûck are you using engine oil?”

“You don’t get to chose my revenge method?” He spoke.

“Besides, you said what made you deserve the water,” she said.

“You mean the truth?” He lowered his arm. “Aren’t you an attention seeker? Bad Idea, speak up, and if you lie, I’ll have to bath you with this engine oil,” he rasped, his voice so close to her ears she could hear the echo.

“Are you an attention seeker? Or not?” He asked, in a low growl.

Her eyes shot up, and she could taste NO on her own tongue already, but saying that means this rude boy is gonna really wet her with the hideous engine oil which he doesn’t want. She likes this bum shorts she’s wearing so much to let anyone spoil the fabric for her.

He awaited an answer, and she suddenly gave him a push on the chest, going down in an escape attempt, but he only had to shove her with an hand, and her body met the gate again. She could feel her laptop making cracking sounds in her bag.

“No answer, no escape.” He whispered, voice too low.

Then his eyes shot up to the road cos he’s the only one seeing it right now. Stacy’s back is on it.

On the road, Dorian’s blue-black car waited, and Cove is very sure he’s inside, watching.

A dark pattern flashed in his eyes, but it was momentous, and as soon as it disappeared, Matteo’s car skid to a slow halt in front of the garage gate.

Matteo and Trevor came out of it, and that was Stacy’s saving grace.

That moment of interruption worked in her favor. She slid away under his bulky arms, and she rushed all the way out of the garage.

She ran past Matteo and Trevoe, and both male look stunned as they watched her run till she entered her car and drove off roughly.

Then Matteo later drove the car into the garage, and he didn’t even close the door when he came out.

Cove came back to the garage two hours ago without the car engine, so he had to go with Trevor to take it.

And they’re just returning.

“What’s Albert’s daughter doing here again?” Matteo asked.

“She ran away this time? What happened? You were pinning her to the gate,” Trevor blinked.

Cove dropped the engine oil bottle on a table, eyes still dark. “She probably won’t come here anymore.” He said.

“Understanding you should be a course on it’s own. Covey 104, I’m tired!” Trevor complained.

“On that road, someone was killed! A man was hit by a car. A hit and run,” Matteo said.

“Cool,” Cove shrugged. “He probably pissed someone he shouldn’t have pissed off, or said something he shouldn’t have said, or the driver who hit him was drunk. One of the three will be it.”

Matteo blinked, wondering what that categorization is all about.

“Whatever, I need noodles,” he shook his head, entering the spare room.

“Cook two packs Matteo, and like four eggs!” Trevor rushed in too.

Cove wiped the engine oil stains on his fingers, then he looked across the garage road.

Dorian’s car is still there.

He went out the gate and walked up to the car.

Dorian opened the door and stepped out. Obviously, he’s angry, but it looks leashed—controlled.

“Fabio why are you so annoyed about the modelling gig? And because of that, you intentionally brought her to yourself and made me wait in vain? She’s not a tool to play with!”

“I don’t need the modelling gig, Wesley. You should have asked, that was your mistake. If you fail to ask before doing things, then I might take it more serious than you expect.” Cove replied straight.

Dorian nodded, “fine, I’m sorry for involving you without informing you, was just doing a good deed.”

“Obviously, I don’t need you to apologize. I’m not a god, just a lowly garage boy, but just don’t… make decisions for me. I take revenge too high and you won’t like it.” Cove muttered seriously.

“Revenge between friends? Fûck, you’re so exhausting,” Dorian muttered back, leaning on the car.

Cove smirked, slightly.

“Now that you tutored her, you’re coming to the Mixer, aren’t you?” Dorian straightened.

“We’ll see,” Cove stepped back.

“I swear, Fabio. If you bail, I’ll kill you…” Wesley joked.

“Now I wanna bail. Dying doesn’t sound so bad,” Cove replied.

“I’m dead serious you motherfucker!” Dorian shouted with a grin.

Cove’s lip edges flattened as his dry smile happened again before he entered the garage.

Dorian got back in his car too.

“Darn, is it how exhausting it is to have a friend? Or is my friend just an habitual arsehole?” He muttered, his smile still intact.

He actually dropped Angela at the hospital and then proceeded to come here cos he was restless.

Now problem is solved.

“Drive back to the hospital,” he told his driver. “Make a detour at the cake shop, I’ll get her cupcakes…”

“Yes, sir.” The driver answered, driving off.

Minutes after they drove out of that street to a ritzy street, Dorian saw someone by the roadside, and he rolled down his window a bit.

It’s Elmira, and her BBL is streaming behind her even when she’s not moving. She looks like she’s waiting for her ride to come.

Something hard to decipher crossed Dorian’s eyes, and when Elmira sighted him, she gave him two middle fingers before she entered her ride.

Dorian rolled up his window.

—

[RIDE University, 10PM]

The football practice is just ending.

The most intense, tiring football practice of all times.

Scott and Max kept to their promise of noon to 10.

The most interesting part is that they had the whole stadium to themselves. The others campus team members are probably sleeping at home.

Tasha came to watch her twin Tania, and Zendaya followed up too.

Kehlani came to watch her man, so all the Glitz girls are here except Stacy herself.

Roxy came to watch Trinidad. Elmira is absent.

Even Frank and Remo came to watch Scott and Max.

The practice is like a football march on it’s own. Except this one is a teamwork shit.

“Is it just me? Or is Tasha and Trinidad starting what they did last semester again? Their skills are on par again. No one is better than another, throughout the practice, they were leveling.” Zendaya said.

“Oh you don’t know ball, Zen, Tania can’t show all her cards in practice. Wait till the first official march next week. Trinidad will bow,” Tasha said.

“Of course you know your twin better. Tania is so lucky to have you!” Zendaya pouted.

Tasha winked.

“This rivalry will never make sense to me. I get that we hate Trinidad and her girls, but she’s in the same team with Tania—hey’re both in Scott’s team, playing for one net, so why the fûck would they be striving to outdo each other when they can just play ball and get out of the field?” Kehlani rolled eyes.

“Just leave it like that, babe. We like the rivalry!” Tasha said.

“Duh!” Zendaya sounded.

Kehlani scoffed, mounting her legs on top of each other.

“Now that the first match is next week, I’m pretty sure you have your jersey ready,” Zendaya winked.

“My Max is number 15, so I’m wearing 15 again! He’s the best striker of the team for a reason! Before he enters the field that day, I’ll give him a head-scattering blowjob first to balance him.” Kehlani winked, biting her lip.

And that was when she saw Max coming her way.

She jumped down the bleachers to him, jumping into his arms.

Max received her, holding her flat butt as they kissed deeply below the stairs. Kehlani moaned.

“You’re still as awesome as ever, hunny,” she kissed him again. “Dinner at Aristocrats?”

“Nah…I’m too tired for dinner.” Max declined immediately.

“But why!!” She whined.

Elmira walked past a row behind them. She’s just arriving at the stadium right now.

“Lani, I’ll go have a bath at the footies bathroom and be back in a jiffy. Wait here,,” he dropped her.

“I’ll follow you to the bath and we can go doggy inside,” Kehlani held him again.

“I said I’m too tired!” He snapped before he knew it.

Kehlani blinked.

“I’ll be right back,” he left her, and Kehlani blinked again.

“It better not be what I’m thinking, Maxwell.”

Trinidad climbed the bleachers to go meet Roxy, holding a ball.

“Heya! Cove’s girl!” Roxy stood.

“Cringe!” Trinidad frowned.

“It’s all-over the major groups, bitch. You rode with him to campus this morning!” Roxy said.

“I know, I saw the comments, and I’m not freaked. Male and female can be friends without attachments. I just like his personality, nothing more,” Trinidad shrugged.

“Hope that won’t change in the future!” Roxy winked.

“Drop it, where’s Elmira?” Trinidad asked, both walking towards the footie building already.

“She’s probably somewhere sucking Max’s dîck, and yunno what’s cooking? Kehlani’s tears!” Roxy announced happily.

Trinidad didn’t reply.

“Buzz kill!” Roxy rolled eyes.

Kehlani went back to meet her friends, and by now, Tania has joined them too.

“Kiss me!” Tasha drew closer, and Tania kissed her on the ear.

Tasha grinned. “You did well, twin”

“Look forward to more during the first match,” Tania grinned back.

“Stacy didn’t come watch me practice?”

“She’s probably with Dorian, said she has a tutorial with him or sum,” Kehlani replied.

“That’s…new.” Tasha muttered.

“I know, right?” Tania said.

“Stacy is taking this semester serious?” Zendaya blinked. “Now I’m legit scared! That babe has never been serious.”

The girls burst into laughter, all except Kehlani.

“And why is Lani so serious?” Tania noticed.

“Girls,” Kehlani stood. “What if Max is losing interest in me?”

“Why would you say that?” Tasha asked with curved brows.

—

Down the stadium net, Scott was the last to get up from his slump on the ground after he had adequate rest, and as he stood, Frank and Remo joined him.

“You were wilding on the field, I was geeked,” Remo grinned.

“Did you take drugs before going for practice? You were over the top. I can imagine the pepper you’d squeeze on the face of the other team next week already,” Frank said.

“Drugs? I’m not like you, bum,” Scott muttered, and Remo’s phone made a low buzz immediately.

Elmira: Not tonight anymore. Let’s shift it to the night of the Mixer on Friday. I wanna turn that night to a night of sorrow for her.

“This girl is cruel, I like her,” Remo laughed, replying OK.

“Kane is here, I can feel it,” Scott said suddenly, and Remo frowned.

“Like stepbrothers telepathy or what?” Frank said.

“He’s here, i know what I’m talking about!” Scott insisted, looking around with the boys.

—

[Footies Bathroom]

Max wasn’t wrong about Elmira’s destination. It ended in this bathroom, and when he came and met her in ten minutes ago, he couldn’t possibly ask for more.

Now the upper fabric of her dress is down, and he’s sucking hungrily on her boobies, slurping on it like it’s some fruit juice for refreshment.

As he sucked, she chuckled, using her hand to guide it into his mouth too. She’s literally breastfeeding him like a baby. He’s her baby now anyways.

He’s using three minutes to suck each tit, interchanging between the minutes, and her chuckle rose when he tickled her nip with his tongue.

“You’re so fuckin sweet,” she caressed his hair, her long blue nails lining his scalp.

“These, or the pimples on Kehlani’s chest?” She teased.

“You know my answer,” Max replied, licking her areolas.

“Then why haven’t you broken up with her?” She asked the question.

His head came up, and their eyes met. “Mira…”

“I don’t wanna hear excuses, cos if you’re afraid to do it yourself, I’ll do it for you,” she muttered.

“What are you gonna do?” He queried.

She drew his head back to her chest, and he continued sucking.

“Wait till the night of the Mixer, you’d see what I’m saying,” she moaned.

By the door of the bathroom, Kane stood, back resting on the wall and mouth tight.

He has been listening, and liking the conversation.

They plan to break Kehlani on Friday? Cool, it’s none of his business, but that’s the night he’s also gonna give Max his own stab.

—

[Montana Mansion]

At 11pm, Stacy is still awake in bed, hair rolled into two intertwined pigtails, so her sound face is drawn out more than before.

She’s with her laptop, and with the five paragraph points she jotted from Cove’s tutorial, she has formed three pages note already, and she’s still gonna form more…on her own.

Turns out he’s a pretty good tutor, but too bad he can’t do it without stabbing her with his sharp-tongue.

It’s his habit, but now she’s wondering if she can ever get used to it. But one thing is for sure; she’s never stepping that garage again.

After the mixer, she’d stop talking to him, and she’s still hoping desperately that he’d come.

But… Dorian.

Did he get her message?

She picked her phone, feeling bad as she clicked on his name.

Surprisingly, there’s a text from him. How come she hadn’t seen it?

Jerk: Get yourself potent medications. We’ll just reschedule for another time. Take good care. (Care emoji)

She smiled slightly and sighed, her guilt still slightly pressing her chest, but she feels better somehow.

Her phone lit up again, and when she saw the message from her favorite Oh-Polly brand, she shot up.

Her mixer dress is ready, and just seeing the picture made her mouth sag. It’s ethereal she wants to wear that already.

As usual, the spotlight will be hers, but the thing is…the dress is backless, and almost all the tango dance steps require body touch, meaning Cove will touch her bare back repeatedly on Friday? Geez.

Just thinking if it makes her stomach turn, but she can’t change this beautiful dress cos of him, so she texted Anita to go pick the dress for her tomorrow.

Then she went online…Glitz group is buzzing with gists about Max.

All the girls are online.

Stacy quickly typed.

Stacy: So..no one could text me to come online?

Tania: chica, you’re now a serious babe, we didn’t want to disturb.

Stacy: (rolling eyes) be for real.

Tania: Max seems to be losing interest on Lani, and Lani is losing her mind.

Stacy: like…he’s cheating on her?

Tasha: exactly what I said! He’s cheating on her! So far he’s rolling with Remo! Remo the bastard, then I don’t trust Max.

Zendaya: I don’t believe Max is cheating, same guy who gifted her gold bars? That guy would die for Lani, believe me.

Tania: Oh I hate when we talk about Kehlani’s relationship like this.

Kehlani: should I just wait till Friday? I bought him a suit to match my dress. I’ll act on his reaction.

Stacy: I swear to gawd, if he’s cheating on you, he’ll become our first murder case. I’ll gouge out his eyes and use it as samosa filling.

Kehlani: No don’t talk about my Max like that! I believe he’s not cheating.

Tasha: Friday will tell.

—

[Young Mansion, 11:30]

When Scott returned from the stadium, he met the parents at the dinning table.

Owen and Silas are seated beside each other, both bright.

They look like they have a good news to share, but he’s not interested in whatever it is.

He has his bruised face to go take care of, so he started heading up, but Kane came in through the main door, and he stopped immediately.

Kane’s hands are in his pockets, and his eyes are innocent as he walked in, but his eyes burned when they met with Scott’s.

He smiled.

“Get here, you both should witness this,” Silas said from the dining.

“Witness what?” Scott queried, but Kane went to sit at the other end of the table without questions.

Scott really isn’t in the mood to throw fits tonight, so he joined them, and unluckily for him, there’s only one chair left right beside Kane.

The dinning is for four people.

He sat beside the deviant boy, and Silas dropped a really beautiful square box on the table.

He’s smiling like the box contains the most precious gift ever.

As for Owen, her hand is on the table, and she’s wearing a long sleeved brown shirt which covered her arms completely, but with her arms on the table, the shirt lifted slightly from her wrist, uncovering red markings on that wrist.

When she noticed it’s open, she quickly lowered her hands from the table, and Silas opened the square box, revealing a silver hairpin, so fuckin gorgeous.

Scott regretted coming here immediately. To witness his father’s new gift for his new wife?

He wanted to stand immediately, but he felt an hand press his thigh down, and that was when he remembered Kane is beside him.

He turned his neck, and the smile on Kane’s face is enough to tell him it’s his hand on his thigh.

Again, Scott tried to stand, but Kane pressed that thigh down, riding his hand up till he was nearly touching Scott’s crotch.

Breathlessly, Scott shot murderous glances at Kane.

Kane is now looking at the couple in front of them, but he still kept his hand down on Scott’s thigh, holding it down with a controlling poise.

Silas inserted the hairpin into Owen’s hair, and Owen touched it in her hair delicately, her smile so charged.

“It’s pretty, I love it,”

“Knew you’d love it, darling. Never take it off your hair.” Silas smiled, rubbing her fingers.

Owen nodded.

Now Kane’s hand left Scott’s thigh, and he immediately stood, rushing upstairs, but getting to the middle of the stairwell, he looked back.

His eyes met Kane’s.

Kane gave him that sick smile again, then he returned upstairs.

— —

[Friday, Dorian’s Mansion, 7PM]

“Must you really attend this Mixer? I don’t understand you,” Angela complained when Dorian came out of his room, dressed in a black suit with golden flower patterns.

Unfairly expensive it matches his golden boy personality. Hairstyle changed, his bangs are gone, and it’s nice styled back in a more manly sweep. It’s darker too.

Lavender filled the mansion like it does whenever he’s around, and he doesn’t even wanna reply Angela, but the woman blocked him.

“You’re not in the pairings, so why are you going?” She asked, worry in her eyes and voice.

“Are you gonna try to stop me from going there to feed my eyes?” Dorian smirked, his stance unswayed.

“Feed your eyes?” Angela blinked. “Then I’ll go with you and the guards. Wait for me I’ll get my dress ready!”

She rushed in, and Dorian sighed, checking his wristwatch.

—

[No Sleep Garage]

Cove is just returning from a tool shopping spree with Matteo.

They went to get little minor parts they lack in the garage, and it was Trevor who began lifting the packages inside.

Cove went into the spare room and got his laptop, opening to finish the programming he started last night.

“Aren’t you going?” Matteo asked behind him, causing him to turn.

“Going where?” His eyes didn’t change.

“Are you for real?” Matteo gasped. “Mixer! It’s tonight you crappy boy! You’re the king, are you gonna abandon the queen and disgrace her?” He blinked.

Cove went silent, and Matteo nodded.

“Of course you’re still the cold Cove, wasn’t expecting you to go anyways. It’s already late.”

He left the room, and Cove turned his face back to the laptop.

7:30.

Too late.

—

[RIDE, Mixer Hall]

It’s 7:30, the peak of the Mixer, and the red carpet climax.

The hall was designed like the garden of Eden with otherworldly fruits paintings and drawings.

So expensive it costs the shareholders billion dollars contributions to bring it to life. It’s too perfect.

Paradise would be a weak word.

The surroundings of the hall is already filled with students who’re overdoing with their dresses as usual.

Mixer night is initially a night of casualness between students for them to socialize and for the freshmen to blend in with their seniors, but students change the style completely, and now it’s not just about socializing.

It’s more about showing off dresses. Met Gala got nothing on this gathering.

Pictures of every student is crawling in the body of the building like programmed snake crawl, and every face has appeared at least twice despite the full population.

But as for the tango dance queen and king, their big picture spot in front of the hall is empty.

Instead, it has the picture of last year King and Queen.

This year pictures will only be uploaded when the king and queen does their dance, and their dance is the first part of tonight.

Very important.

Students stepped the red carpet, the colorful lights highlighted their faces as they stepped into the hall.

Trinidad dressed completely like a boy you’d mistake her for one in her tuff black blazer. Her date is a fellow computer science boy.

Elmira and Roxy don’t have to label themselves as sluts. They look like they are in their red dresses which didn’t even cover their arse cheeks, and their makeup could paint a skyscraper, soup to nut.

Frank and Remo wore the same blazer, intentionally large palazzo male trousers they look expensive

Remo’s buzz cut is sharper. He has a mission to accomplish tonight anyways…with Elmira.

Scott and Max wore the same blazer too, and Scott hid his freckles with a balm. He hates those freckles.

Kane’s suit is tan, and his bun is gone. He got a haircut.

He has that innocent smile as the red carpet received him.

Tania and Tasha were the first to step on the red carpet among glitz girls, and needles to say, their dresses are fire. They overdid with the slit at the back of their dresses.

Kehlani and Zendaya joined them, both looking overly stunning too. Zendaya copied Stacy’s favorite ponytail hairstyle with the baby hair curls at the edges.

Her dress is open in the belly, highlighting her navel.

Kehlani’s little breàsts are nearly popping out of her dress.

The four stood at a spot, shooting a group picture since Stacy won’t be with them tonight.

Her place is different.

Stacy stepped on the red carpet like she owned it, umbrella over her head… students moved out of the way respectfully till she took her spot.

She lifted the fancy umbrella, and confetti rained on her.

Every mouth that opened after that couldn’t close anymore.

She’s in a blood-red tango dress that clung to her like it had been stitched onto her skin.

The bodice was structured and daring, cut low in the front and back, held together by thin crystal-strapped lines that glittered under the lights.

Rhinestones were scattered across the fabric like stars caught in flame, catching every movement.

The skirt fitted through the hips before breaking into a high slit that rode dangerously up her thigh, revealing toned legs.

The hem is asymmetrical, layered with soft fringe.

Her makeup was pure decadence — glossy red lips, blinding highlighter, heavy rhinestone-lined eyes, and lashes so full they fanned like wings when she blinked.

She’s a real-life barbie doll right now.

All eyes landed on her immediately, all attention bowed at her feet.

“I knew you’d slay this, girl!!” Kehlani screamed.

“Tell me bout it! You’re so fuckin hot, Stacy!” Tasha went louder.

“I love you babe!” Tania followed.

“Mhua!” Zendaya blew kisses.

Apart from the hall cameras capturing Stacy’s face right now, the girls phones are capturing too, pictures so much.

• Where did she get that darn dress!

• Oh-Polly! It’s very obvious!

• The hell! She’s destructively beautiful!

• It’s not news that Stacy Montana is the hottest girl in this city.

• I’d kill to have that waistline of hers and the back…it’s so fuckin perfect!

Elmira and her girls who are already inside the hall got wide mouths too when Stacy entered the hall, stealing the attention inside too.

“She definitely knows how to steal attention, that thief!” Elmira spat.

“Look who’s here if not the slut…” Remo scoffed.

“I just hate her,” Roxy sighed.

“She’s fine, not bad,” Trinidad commented.

“Are you watching?” Frank said.

“It’s only the start of the night. Let her do her dance and leave the center,” Max replied, popping his blazer button open.

“Dance? There’s no king!” Remo laughed stiffly.

“No king?” Frank focused.

“Do you see that bastard anywhere? What’s his name again? Cove?” Remo grinned happily.

“Cove isn’t here! I knew it!” Elmira bursted into laughter.

“But the organizers are wicked, how would they put that boy on the list? Like how? The worse part is it’s the opening dance…this so embarrassing,” Roxy laughed.

“I feel the secondhand embarrassment!” Elmira chuckled.

Truly, the hall is now less noisy, and the attention has left Stacy’s extravagant dress

It’s now on the absence of the king.

In the middle of the million plus students, Stacy stood, looking stupid on the tango dance floor.

Where Cove?

She went to the garage for this, so why is he still not showing up?

Even her friends are now silent, but Zendaya’s happiness is boundless right now she could throw a party.

Cove didn’t come after all

She was right!

Stacy looked around the filled hall, and her fear began materializing bit by bit. Abandonment.

She felt a crash in her tummy, do violent her palms watered.

Trinidad picked her phone and stepped aside, texting Cove.

Trinidad: Ice prince, do you really plan to disgrace her? Where the fûck are you hiding.

Five minutes after she sent that text, the hall is still Cove-free.

Elmira bursted into a wicked laughter, and students resumed their mutterings.

• Why would anyone bail on her?

• Why won’t he bail on her?

• She got her locked up twice!

• Still doesn’t mean!

• Geez! Look at her face.

Ten minutes later, there’s still no sign of Cove, and Stacy knew it was time to rush out of the hall, but an announcement came from the campus speakers studio immediately.

“New tango king decided!”

“What! No!” Elmira jumped.

“DORIAN WESLEY IS TO TAKE COVE’S PLACE ON THE DANCE!” The announcement continued.

Hush filled the hall, and Stacy felt her chest balancing when Dorian entered from the apple door, his suit blinging under the eye-catching lights.

Angela entered behind him with the guards, and the look on Angela’s face right now could kill anyone.

She wants to snap Stacy’s neck.

The hush from the students continued, and only the sounds of Dorian’s shoes crackled in the hall, his steps careful, and his smile beautiful till he arrived at the floor.

Hope rekindled on Stacy’s face. Her own smile blossomed too.

Several minutes has already been wasted, so the music came on immediately Dorian got to her, hitting the speakers hard.

Coincidentally, it’s the ‘Oblivion’ song Dorian practiced with, and as an ice skater, Stacy has heard it a number of times.

Moving it would be a piece of cake.

Her confidence returned, her queen bee crown got rebalanced on her head, her face snapped back to the cocky lift.

Dorian tendered his soft delicate palm, and she placed her small hand on it.

He brought it to his lips first, kissing the BS k if her hand.

Stacy’s mouth parted, then his second hand found her back, holding the bare soft skin.

Stacy felt the warmness of his fingers and her neck twitched.

But she composed herself.

Their eyes locked, gazes communicated, their heartbeats synced with the instrumentals of the music, students anticipated.

As they both made the first dance move to the musical notes, the pineapple door of the hall opened with a slight swing.

Cove entered, dressed in a blood-red suit, hair swept back to make the bangs disappear. Eyebrows carefully shaped, eyes so still.

Gasps. Wide eyes. Gags.

Dorian and Stacy paused, but the music didn’t pause, and as Cove began moving to the dance floor, Zendaya’s heart broke.

Trinidad smiled. “The king is here.”

TBC.