Darko's POV

I'd say this party is off to a fantastic start.

It's been just under an hour since the party began, and the gang's almost completely depleted of campaign flyers. Stefan showed up about half an hour ago and has been helping me distribute flyers, much to Lyra's approval. Good God though, he needs to dial down the flirting.

Taylor and I are standing at the doorway, handing any late-comers some flyers, while Bella, Lyra, and Stefan are doing circle shifts around the house and backyard, talking to the other students about Lyra's party and their voting choice. We must be doing a good job, because voting promises are higher than ever.

Damn, we would make an excellent presidential team. Lyra, if you can somehow read my thoughts right now, remember us all when you're running to become Australia's next Prime Minister, okay?

"Here's your flyer," Taylor says, extending his hand to a person. "Enjoy the party!"

I hand my last paper to another guest, sighing in relief. "Phew, that's the last one. I bet there's at least a tree's worth of political shit floating around Lyra's house by now."

Taylor laughs, making my chest flutter. I could listen to that sound all day.

"Should we go find the others?"

He nods. "Hopefully Lyra's snubbed your brother by now. No offense, he's just so obnoxious and really energy draining."

I'm about to reply, but Bella, Lyra, and Stefan appear from around the corner. Bella's clutching her purse, and Lyra and Stefan are holding hands.

Wait, what?

Taylor seems to notice as well, and he shoots me a confused look. I shrug. My eyes fall onto Stefan's and he can barely contain a grin.

"You guys handed out all of the flyers?" Lyra asks, a huge grin on her face. Taylor and I nod, and she audibly squeals, letting go of Stefan's hand to wrap us both up in her arms. "Thank you!"

"Not a problem," I say, patting her back. Taylor makes a choking sound.

"You're crushing my rib cage. How are you so strong!"

Laughing, she lets us go, her smile even brighter than it was a moment ago. I think a bit of her makeup smeared on my shirt, but whatever. "Sorry - just, AHH! I'm so happy. From what we've been hearing from the other partygoers, everyone seems to really be having a good time!"

"And with a good time, lots of votes," Bella says, looking at Lyra. "Hopefully nothing happens tonight that would ruin that."

Lyra playfully swats at Bella's arm, making the latter giggle. "Don't jinx it!"

Taylor and I laugh at their exchange. We fall into a semi-comfortable silence for a few moments. Stefan and Lyra are holding hands again. I'm about to speak, but the DJ near the dance floor changes the song, one that gets our group all fired up.

"I believe that you are all relinquished from all political agenda for the evening," Lyra says, a grin on her face. "Now, go have some freaking fun!"

Bella points towards the dance floor and gives Taylor and I a knowing look. "Shall we dance?"

"Dance we shall," I say. Bella shoots a fist in the air, shouting a loud 'Yes!'. Lyra and Stefan say they're going to hit the drinks and snack bar first. As soon as they're out of sight, Bella and Taylor's voices drop to a whisper and they turn to me.

"Since when were your brother and Lyra so chummy?"

"Wasn't Stefan the playboy type?"

"I thought Lyra never wanted to date Stefan!"

I raise both hands, silencing them. "I don't know! Stefan must have done something to win her over."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Or he's a rebound from Markle."

Taylor shrugs. "I don't know. Lyra doesn't have rebounds. She ended the relationship anyway, I'm sure she's just having fun."

I shake my head. "Either way, they must be a thing if they're holding hands. Great, I'm going to get an earful of this from Stefan afterwards."

They both grimace. "Good luck," Bella says.

The song pumps louder, snapping us out of our conversation. I wave a dismissive hand. "Anyway, I believe there is a floor that needs to be danced on. Talk more about this later."

Bella and I start to head toward the group of dancing students. I stop, however, when I notice Taylor doesn't move a muscle. Bella stops a few paces ahead, confusion painting her face.

"Tay? What's wrong?"

He scratches the back of his head. "I-I don't really know how to dance."

I roll my eyes and smirk, before grabbing his wrist. It's soft, and warm. "As if the musical one in the group doesn't know how to dance. Come on, man. It's all rhythm, and you've got plenty of that. Bella and I will show you how it's done."

Soon, he's pulled into the dead centre of the dance floor with Bella and I, with no escape in sight. A remixed version of Regular Touch by Vera Blue is streaming through giant speakers, while strobe lights zoom around like a pocket rainbow star going nova. I feel my hips and shoulders swing and shimmy to the melody of the song, and soon I've lost myself in the rhythm with Bella.

Taylor awkwardly steps from one foot to the next, eyes on his feet. Bella and I look at each other before breaking into laughter.

"I'm gonna go get something to drink, please fix our boy's dancing skills before I get back," Bella says to me, giggling as she wanders off. Taylor stops dancing - if you can call it that- when he sees me step closer to him. I have a hand over my mouth to hide my amusement.

"Where'd Bella go?" he shouts to me over the music. I shrug.

"Don't worry about her, we've got a bigger problem."

He arches an eyebrow. "What is it?"

I look him up and down. "Your dancing. Come on, copy me."

I move my feet forward and back, rolling my hips around, folding and twisting my arms in front of me to the beat of the song. It sounds clumsy, I know, but it feels right, and that's all that matters. Taylor's watching my every move, his expression either in awe or complete shock and embarrassment. I can't actually tell. "The trick is to dance like nobody's watching you. The truth? Look around. Nobody's actually looking at us—at you. Dance to the song like you can feel it in your soul. Let loose!"

Taylor nods, moving his feet shoulder-width apart. "I-I'll try."

He copies my footwork, bouncing his head to the beat. It's better than before, but still not stellar. "Good!"

The song switches to an intense trap house beat. The song is fast, with ear punching beats that make me want to jump around. Soon, my body's bouncing to the rhythm, and I pump a fist in the air, bobbing it with every thump. Sweat dribbles down my brow, but I don't mind. There's nothing else in the world right now except me, the song, and Taylor.

The song shift seems to work in Taylor's favour, and he's dancing almost as well as me. He's jumping up and down, both arms in the air, eyes shut, a big grin on his face. Soon, he's fully lost in the song, no trace of his worry on his face.

My eyes trail down his face. Flashes of brilliant red, green and blue streak his skin, his face like fracturing stained glass. I really wish we were the only ones on the dance floor - hell, the only ones in this house. It takes every ounce of willpower to not cup his face and kiss him.

Before I can do anything stupid, Bella returns with a cup in her hands, jaw ajar as she sees Taylor. "Damn, you really did fix his dancing. Look at him go, even I'm jealous!"

I puff my chest out as Taylor dabs, which just makes me face palm. Bella laughs before downing her cup, and we all throw ourselves into dancing as the music changes over and over again.

#

We're about four songs in when I spot something that makes me stop. Lyra's dance floor is set up in her living room, and on the far end of her living room is the backyard door. Aside from the random people milling about, I see Trent and Duncan shove through the door. The pair have cornered Lyra.

The hell are they doing here? Last I checked, they weren't invited.

I squint through the throng of dancing bodies around me. Lyra's too far away—I can't hear her, but her mouth's moving, so I can only assume she's swearing like a super pissed-off sailor.

Bella notices my diverted attention. "What's wrong?"

I blink. Bella and Taylor are having such a good time—I probably shouldn't ruin that. "Nothing! I'm gonna go get a drink. I'll be back soon."

She nods and turns to face Taylor, dancing on. I look to the door again, and a few people start to go outside. What's going on? Where the hell is Stefan?

Weaving my way through the dance floor, I reach the glass doors and hear muffled yelling. My heart pounds in my rib cage. Trent and Duncan are running their own campaign for a seat on the student body, so there's no reason for them to be here unless it's to cause trouble.

Stepping outside, I go around the corner to Lyra's pool and find the three of them loudly arguing. They're yelling so loudly and so fast that I can't comprehend their words.

I start walking. Lyra shoves Trent, and Trent pushes her back. I dead-sprint.

"What the hell is going on here?!"

Trent looks up at me, before shaking his head. "Of course your white knight has come to save you. We came to crash this stupid party. You don't deserve to run for the seat. You'd be a distraction to all the other members, and contribute nothing of value to the university."

Something snaps in Lyra, and she goes to lunge at Trent, but Stefan appears out of nowhere and holds her back. "Stefan, let me go! This man needs to get hit!"

"Wow, now you want to hit Trent?" Duncan says, sneering away from Lyra from a safe distance. "Not a good trait in a politician."

Lyra screams. People have their phones out, recording. No, this is not what Lyra needs. This needs to stop, now.

"I'm going to ask you two once to leave. This is a private party, invitation only, and you two are not on the list. Get out of here before I call the police for trespassing."

"I go wherever I feel like it," Trent says, advancing toward me. I can smell a bit of alcohol on his breath, and it makes me recoil a little. "and I'm here to tell people that voting for you is a mistake!"

He pulls out a flyer and starts waving it to the crowd. "Lyra wants more female oriented things, like female only cafes, more POC female teachers, and more on-site clinics with women's care as a focal point. Why the fuck are men banned from cafes now? Feels very discriminatory and sexist, to be honest. Plus, since when did we hire teachers based on their gender or race, rather than their merit and skill? Sounds like they just want useless women working when it should be given to a man that knows what he's doing."

He turns to a student who is filming. He points at the lens. "And what's this about an on-site clinic for women? What does that even mean? I hope it's not some slippery slope to a campus-sanctioned baby killing clinic, or – "

I snap. I don't even feel like it's me. My fist rushes toward Trent, and I shove him so hard that he falls back, landing hard on the ground. He staggers back to his feet, before laughing to the crowd.

"What are you laughing at, fuck stick? Fight me, ass wipe! Don't fuck with my friends!"

He shoves me back. I go to shove him again, but he swings a hard fist forward, connecting with my jaw. I stagger backward, blood pumping hard in my ear, pain surging across my face. I think I can hear Lyra begging everyone to stop, but it's too late to stop.

Trent needs his sexist, racist ass put into its place.

He snorts and smiles. He rushes toward me again, and I dodge, sending him staggering onto the grass, falling over. Clearly embarrassed as the crowd giggles, he yells and turns around, slugging a punch at my gut. I recoil in pain, clutching my midriff with both arms.

Big mistake.

A fist flies at my face again, striking with a meaty thud. I stumble back and fall, shocked and dazed as I hit the tiling surrounding the pool's edge. The side of my face instantly flares with pain, the sensation rippling across my cheek both to my ear and lips. He walks over to me, leaning over me. Just as I think I'm about to be kicked, a thundering boom of a voice sounds from the side of us.

"What is going on here?!"

Oh, thank God. An adult.

It's Lyra's Dad. Standing at well over six feet tall, he towers over Trent and Duncan. His arms are crossed, and for the first time ever, I see a slither of terror in Trent's expression.

"N-nothing, sir," Trent says, allowing me to stand up.

"Get out of my house, right now, or I'm calling the police."

Trent quickly nods, running away from us with Duncan closely behind. I would laugh if my jaw wasn't reeling with pain.

"Darko, are you okay?" Lyra's dad says to me, helping me up. I stuck a thumb up and grinned, before wincing in pain as my cheek muscles moved.

"Come on. Let's get you to the kitchen. You need to get cleaned up."

#

"Those pricks!" Lyra says as she fishes out some band aids and some antiseptic from a first aid box, "How the hell did they get my address? Why bother coming? They ruined the night, and they hurt you!"

She fixes a band-aid on one of my knuckles, being careful to not put pressure on it. She then gets a wet cloth and wipes away at my face, which is made very hard and painful as the inflammation has started to set in. "Ow! That stings."

My stomach aches with every movement—walking here was a little bit of a struggle. Hopefully, my jaw doesn't bruise. At least I get a nice view of the party from Lyra's kitchen island.

The party doesn't seem too disrupted, but I'm fairly sure a few people went home after the altercation. Lyra's father is by the backdoor, on the phone, most likely to the police or maybe the people in charge of the student body. The dancefloor has died down, but there are still a few people going at it.

My eyes narrow. Where are Taylor and Bella?

Lyra snaps me out of my thoughts. "Here, Darko, hold this to your face. It'll help keep the swelling down."

She hands me a frozen bag of peas, the icy food instantly soothing my jaw. Stefan appears nearby, blocking my view of the house.

He shoves his phone in his pocket, a frown on his face.

"Looks like someone posted the fight to a university Facebook group. Post is going off."

He steps closer to me, sliding his thumb over my jaw. I wince in pain. "God, he really did a number on you."

I swat him away with my hand. "Thanks. Sorry for ruining the night for you. I'm sure you would have wanted to dance more, rather than take your beaten-up brother home."

"You didn't ruin anything, bro." He smirks, looking at Lyra. She looks up, and makes the briefest eye-contact with Stefan, smiling a tiny smile to herself.

"Promise."

Stefan walks over to her, and my view of the lounge room is restored. Some people have gone back on the dance floor, but some people have definitely left. The place feels emptier – there are still a good handful of student milling about, but it's not as crowded as it was before. Lyra's flyers cover the floor.

Then — out of the corner of my eye, I see a sweep of red hair walk by.

There they are. Taylor and Bella are at the edge of the dance floor, on the far side of the room. I can see them, but they can't see me.

What are they doing?

My heart's pounding. He's got her by the wrist and is leading her to one of Lyra's backrooms, away from the party. I go to get up, but my belly aches with pain. The last thing I see is the door close, and my heart's about to fall out of my chest.

What the hell is happening? What are they doing?!