(Image: Party Outfit - Christina)

"Hey, Elyka!" Chris called from across the corridor.

Elyka was just on the way to her locker to get her last few things when Chris's call had stopped her.

She frowned. What did Chris want?

Chris walked over hastily. "Hey, Elyka, I was wondering... How good friends are you with Syeda and her crew? I saw you talking to them all a while earlier

Huh. So it was 'Syeda and her crew' now was it. Elyka couldn't a corner of her lip from flicking upwards.

"Yes, I know them decently well, for the last three years since I moved here, actually. What about them, Chris?" Elyka queried, nonchalant.

"Well, I was wondering..." Chris smiled at her a bit too widely. "How much do you want your club? Your Society? With my grant, I could arrange an all-costs-included trip to the National Science Museum. Your members could have free tutoring from the best tutors in the region. " Elyka looked dimly interested, but not... very interested. Not very very interested.

'Not interested enough to make sacrifices' interested. No, he needed something else to interest her.

"You know, Elyka," Chris whispered to her one ear. "my father knows very high people, in the best universities. He could guarantee a bright spark like yourself a place in Oxford."

"What about Cambridge?" Elyka piped up. She liked the idea of Cambridge.

"Uh, yeah, sure, that too." Chris replied impatiently. Honestly, who wanted to go there anyway, rank place.

You're either an Oxford or Cambridge supporter. Orange or apple. Not both.

"Anyway, the key is, I can guarantee it for you, Elyka. I can make your dream come true."

Elyka's eyes looked starstruck.

"You'll make your parents so proud. Ecstatic. Education means a lot to your family, doesn't it? They strived so hard to come here. Imagine giving them everything, who gave you everything. Your parents went the extra mile for you, Elyka, didn't they? More than most." Chris whispered.

Elyka's eyes were staring into the space behind Chris's head, and she absent-mindedly nodded. "Everything." She whispered back. "I'd lost everything, but then they came into my life and gave it all back again."

She looked up at Chris, wide-eyed. "How did you know?"

Chris smiled benevolently. "I am your benefactor now, Elyka. It is my job to look after your interests. Which I always will." He placed a hand on Elyka's petite shoulder. "I ask just one thing in return."

"I need you to watch what Syeda and her friends do and say, and I need you to report it all to me."

---

Syeda sat on her laptop, looking at the GPS location result on her computer unbelievably.

She now knew exactly where the texter was.

She could now confront them.

But....

Syeda's hand rubbed her forehead tensely.

This... wasn't what she'd been expecting.

At all.

---

Multicoloured lights flashed around the living room of the house that hosted the party. There was a drinks table, a snack table, but mostly, there were just people. Everywhere.

A mini-sea of them. The music was loud, and Christina, dressed as a silvery fairy godmother, silvery-painted face shimmering, had put her younger brother in charge of it to keep it going smoothly.

Most people wore elaborate costumes (it's a sophisticated party, Christina had insisted), like Draculas, Fairies, Princesses, Zombies, Bigfoots, with the odd person who just wore Fangs or a pirate eyepatch.

Christina grinned; it was great timing for her parents to be out of town.

The doorbell rung. Christina rushed to welcome her guests.

Oh, it was the new kids; the cute, moody blondey-brunette, the pink-silver haired girl who stuck around with him too much for her liking (but to be fair all these new kids stuck together like sardines in a tin), the really quiet guy who she'd forgotten she'd invited, and of course, The Higher Upper, a sweetly grinning Earl of Woburn, Christian Eduardo De Courcy (apparently he was an Earl, a Baron, and a Marquess; squee!). Sure, the guy was a bit, umm, shor-, no, vertically challenged, and his black glasses and blue braces were... a unique sight, but she guessed it was cute in a kiddy kind of way. Maybe when his braces came off and he got contacts, he'd be hotter.

Christina was in awe that a Higher Upper had even looked at their school, let alone decided to attend it for a few months.

Everyone knew that the Higher Uppers were all powerful beings, rising to prominence in the last century from peaceful, dotty rich nobles with seemingly useless titles to fierce and brutal authoritarians, scared into zealous patriotism by the last war, at the end of which they got together, some in high positions in Brynnland's armies, and threatened a military coup unless the government reserved an unimaginably large portion of seats in Parliament for their them and their lineages. They, the rightful 'heirs' and 'owners' of Brynnland. Their eyes had opened to how absolute power had been wrenched from their ancestor's grasps, and they wanted it all back. With interest.

It was they who pulled the strings in the government, who now really made the laws. They who'd reintroduced the hierarchal class system. The Higher Uppers now barely looked at Mids (the medial class), and turned away at the sight of Lowers (the workers and unemployed, conveniently lopped into one). It was common knowledge how each aristocratic family unofficially 'ruled' their county via their spy network and bribed the few MPs who were Mids or (God forbid) Lowers.

And Christina had even heard that the De Courcys were the only family who were allied with the infamous De Albas, the one aristocratic family all the others feared.

But whatever, that was what Hello! Magazine said, so who knew if it was true.

The new kids entered the house, the gorgeous golden-brunette boy was sulking, (Christina sighed) dressed as a spectacular space-pirate with a whole suit and coat-tails and everything, and the pink-silver haired girl was a Queen, apparently; the average guy wasn't dressed up (Christina eye-rolled), while Chris had dressed up as Batman, some character from the 20s apparently (Ooh, retro).

She escorted the guests in, when the doorbell rang again. She patiently went to welcome what must be the 20th batch. It was Frank (ooh, she'd have to warn Saphora her ex was here; what could Christina do? She'd already invited him before the argument and couldn't uninvite him now, that would be too rude). With him the new slightly-Asian guy with wavy chestnut brown hair; Jake Jasper, it'd said on the register. Ooooh. Very interesting. She'd be keeping a close eye on him!

Suddenly, the door rang again. Jack was stood right next to it, and was kind enough to smile at Christina to indicate he'd get it (the sweetheart!), and opened the door.

"Syeda?!" He exclaimed, almost jumping back, then sounding ecstatic. "Syeda! You came! You G! Yannow, I kinda expecte- wait, are you even dressed u-"

"Move over, Blake." Oops. Syeda only called him by his half-surname when she was especially pissed. She usually called him De Alba, but his running away – eh-hem, moving out – and his dad now probably looking for him obviously made telling the world undesirable.

"Syeda?!" Christina nearly shrieked. "I thought you told me you didn't want to come!" She went closer to Syeda, leaning her face until it was inches from hers. "I thought you hated parties. And me." she whispered lethally.

"Not you." Syeda breathed out, knowing she had a lot of explaining to do. "And yes, parties aren't my thing. I don't believe in going to... these kinds of parties." she ended quietly, looking around, her eyes reaching what was probably a makeshift bar as well as a dance floor. Syeda didn't know where to look while talking; she'd never really explained her religious beliefs in this context to anyone before.

But Christina didn't seem to have heard, cause she suddenly started shrieking. "WHERE'S your OUTFIT?! Why are you just wearing baggy jeans and a top?!"

'Bootcut.' An offended Syeda wanted to correct.

But Christina continued. "This is a SOPHISTICATE-"

Jack placed a hand on her shoulder, and gave her a comforting smile. Strangely enough, she simmered down instantly, and even meekly smiled back.

"Stupid hormonal girl." Syeda whispered. 'What a loser.'

"Aw come on, Syeda, don't be like that." a familiar voice said next to her.

Elyka? And she was wearing what could only be described as a grandiose pink ball-gown, complete with a silver tiara, baby-pink tear-drop earrings, a silver necklace, shimmering rings and bangles, ballet slippers, the whole shebang. She looked like (an admittedly adorable) Angelina Ballerina in human form, upgraded to Princess version.

"Whatever." Syeda replied disdainfully. But this was all distracting her from her main goal.

Syeda whipped out her phone, dodged through the crowd, ('Hey!' called out Jack, and she heard him follow her), and followed the flashing beacon indicated on her app. She'd configured the app to make the target phone ring when she needed it to, and now she pressed the 'ring' button.

But the music was so loud...

"Christina!" Syeda yelled loudly, and people around her started looking at her, just noticing her presence. Some whispering ensued.

But it couldn't be helped. Syeda needed Christina to have the volume lowered ASAP.

The texter was in this house... She was so, so close.

Papa was within reaching grasp. She just needed to reach out.

Soon, Christina turned up, and, huffing discontentedly, agreed to have the music volume lowered for five minutes.

Syeda kept her earing focused on a potential ringing.

None.

Just low-level music.

And lots of chatter.

"Can we be quiet for a moment, guys! This is really, REALLY important!" Syeda shouted out at the top of her voice.

Everyone became mute, and eventually all was mostly silent, apart from the tunes that had been turned down even more.

The ringing she needed to hear.

Was it...

"Upstairs!" Frank yelled and shot towards Christina's staircase. He had just reached it, when someone abruptly got in his way.

"Where do you think you're going?" Angel smirked. "I haven't fulfilled my-"

"Suck a stick, Angel! We haven't got time for this." With force no one knew he possessed, Frank (swiftly helped by Jack) shoved Angel out the way until he was pushed onto the floor (but somehow stopped his fall and sat on the ground instead, panting with the force he'd been struck with), and Syeda, Elyka following, rushed upstairs.

Summer, looking over at the action from a corner, guessed what thoughts were coming up next in Angel's mind, and approaching towards him, she gingerly sat next to him on the floor, poofy dress and tulle skirts making a crumpling sound as they compressed. From behind, she carefully, gently and yet firmly held Angel's arms down, not hard enough to provoke him to shrug them off.

This was the first party Summer had ever been invited to- and she'd been enjoying it more than she ever knew she could.

"Angel, don't ruin this for me!" she appealed furiously. "In case you didn't know, this is the first party I've ever been to! I spent hours and a shit-tonne of money getting ready for this! I'm actually enjoying it! Today, just today, freaking control yourself! We've got ages! You can get your revenge later!" She hissed.

Angel was silent for a while. Then he spoke. "As if I give a f*** about you and your day, b***." Angel responded gruffly. But he sounded calmer than before. He didn't argue back. Angel always argued back (even with Chris sometimes).

He chose to stay sitting, and didn't ward off Summer's grip.

As the gang reached upstairs, the ringing had reached its loudest. Frank and Jack had already (apprehensively) knocked and then, hearing nothing but the ringing, thrown open the door.

Inside was a teenage boy dressed as The Flash, complete with the red face-mask and everything.

"Take off your mask!" Jack ordered authoritatively. The boy anxiously did as he was told. Revealing... A complete average Joe. Jack thought he'd seen this kid in his P.E. class.

Syeda pushed to the front. "Were you the one who sent this text? It's from your number." On her phone screen were the fateful words: 'He is with me'. "And did you send this?" She swiped with a thumb to reveal the picture of her father she had received, from what seemed like so long ago now.

The boy looked at the phone screen expressionlessly for a few silent, breath-taking moments.

Syeda knew this boy couldn't have been the one who orchestrated her father's kidnap (an event that the texts seemed to insinuate to her). Lean and lanky, sour-faced, the teen didn't look like he had the guts to squash a fly.

"Answer her!" Jack snarled loudly. Syeda looked at him sideways. Everyone had always said it, but Jack was a mirror personality to his authoritarian father, The Minister for Defence, Erick De Alba. The father he hated, but matched with completely, gene for gene; they talked alike, walked alike, mused alike, and if they ever rarely became heated, got angry alike (apart from Jack having inherited some obviously Malaysian genes from his paternal grandmother, which his clearly English father hadn't, but beloved uncle Haziq had).

The teen nearly jumped out of his skin at Jack's raised voice, then shrunk away from the others.

"Guys, I'm sorry, but I totally dunno you're talking about!"

"I never sent that text!" 

A/N: Did he? Or did he not? Lemme know below! :) Next chapter is out later this week (Probably Friday or Sat) and has important stuff to reveal.. KEEP TUNED!