CHAPTER THREE
❝ SKYFALL❞
TRIGGER WARNINGS || Language,, Violence,, Mild Gore,, Seizures,, Mentions of Death,, SOME SCENES ARE RE-WRITTEN SO PLEASE RE-READ

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ROMAN'S FIST that collided against the jaw of Atticus intensified, a crowd formed around them. Nothing was in Roman's headspace , just the thought of irritation and how mocked he felt. Roman felt a pair of hands tug him back from pinning Atticus, blurry eyes watching someone else hover over Atticus's slumped body.

A few hours later a bandage wrapped around Atticus's wrist sorely rested in his lap, smears of dry blood along his nose with a slight slit of his lips. "Mister Weasley," the nurse hummed, "you have a visitor." The elderly woman took a step back to reveal Silas who held a paper bag that crumpled in his grip.

"Hey," Silas could feel his body flinch at the sight of Atticus hurt - jerking a bit. A soft smile crept on Atticus's lips, "hey." His voice was strained, squirming in his bed.

The smell of potions and sanitation liquids increased the nausea in Silas but he shoved that away just to check up on Atticus.

The nurse strolled away as Silas seated himself at the end of the bed, "what is the bag for?" Atticus furrowed his brows, Silas dodged his question and asked his own; "are you hurting?" The Weasley chuckled with a scrunched nose, "I asked first!"
"I care more about you than what is in the stupid bag."
Atticus could feel his cheeks grow tinted pink, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Just my wrist hurts whenever I move it," he shrugged - "now what is in that bag?" Silas nodded with a giggle, flipping the bag and dumping it out to reveal several sorts of candies and sweets.

Atticus's eyes widened, feeling the soft thumps of candies at his legs. "Where did you even get that many from?" His voice raised in surprise as he leaned over to take a look.

Silas shrugged, "having the answers to Charms can get you anywhere." He joked, feeling his insides bubble when Atticus muffled a chuckle at his joke.
"But seriously, are you okay?" Silas's eyes softened, inching closer towards Atticus who rested his chin on the palm of his hand. "I am," he nodded as he pulled away with a sigh, "it was all just an accident." Silas nodded, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"Well," Atticus gently picked up a chocolate and waved it in the air towards Silas. "Well better get to feasting before my jaw is the next thing broken."

Silas grinned, his fingers brushing the chocolate as he took a piece. "Wouldn't want that," he teased, biting into the sweet treat. Atticus snorted, the teasing tone bringing a lightness to his posture. He reached for another piece of chocolate, clearly appreciating the small moment of normalcy.

"But seriously, if anything happens again—" Atticus trailed off, meeting Silas's eyes with a concerned gaze. Atticus waved him off with a small, crooked smile. "You'll be the first to pull me back, promise."

Atticus gave him a long look, his concern not quite fading. "You better mean that," Silas said, his voice softer than before.

Atticus's smile lingered, and he leaned back slightly, a casual manner in his posture. "I do." Silas nodded timidly, biting the inside of his cheek. "You've got me, always."

There was a pause, both of them savoring the quiet, unspoken understanding between them. Then Atticus broke the silence with a half-smile. "Good. Now, let's just make sure nothing else needs pulling back anytime soon."

Silas nodded, his gaze shifting to the chocolate between them. "Agreed."

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The sound of organized gasps throughout the Gryffindor dorm erupted at the sight of such a horrific page opener from The Daily Prophet: 'MUGGLE FAMILY OF FIVE FOUND SLAUGHTERED.'

Axelle placed a hand over their mouth, hands shakily holding the edge of the paper. "Holy shit," they averted their eyes towards Dante who could feel judgmental swarms of looks at him. Dante rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, running the other through his disheveled hair.

"Who do you think it was?" Axelle whispered, squinting their eyes. One of their housemates scoffed, almost mocking Axelle's question, "do not act foolish." The boy snakily eyed Dante before fixing the tie around his neck.
"We know who it was."

Axelle clenched their jaw with a glare, brows arched as they crossed their arms. "Shut it asshole." The boy snorted, Dante looked over his shoulders and then back at Axelle. "Leave it, not worth it Potter." Dante shrugged, his lips tugged downwards.

Dante did not want to believe it but deep down he already had an idea of who was responsible for this - and he hated himself for knowing that.
"Do not call me by my last name," Axelle rolled their eyes with a huff, body tensing as Dante teased. "How come? Having Harry as your father is badass." He clicked his tongue, seeing how unamused Axelle was. "Just shut up!"

Axelle's eyes flashed with irritation, their voice biting as they snapped, "I said don't." They crossed their arms, clearly done with the teasing. "I'm not my dad, Dante. So stop acting like I should be proud of it."

Dante raised his hands in mock surrender, smirking slightly. "Alright, no more Harry talk. I get it." But his grin lingered as he teased, "Still, you can't deny it's pretty legendary."

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"Are you stupid?" Zelda snapped as Roman rested in the sink, head leaning back - why wouldn't she just shut up? "You do not act rabid," the girl tugged at his stained shirt, lover a fucking shirt?" Roman rolled his eyes, huffing as he shifted on the sink. "It is more than just that, can you just shut it?"

Zelda crossed her own arms, tilting her head as she watched him before placing the rag under another sink. "You have a sister to look after here but you are always so busy bitching!" Her voice raised as he scoffed, "you two seem to get along amazing so I do not believe she needs me." Her jaw gritted at his statement, the dampness of the rap made delicate droplets on the floor.

"You are such an asshole," Zelda muttered before hovering the rag over his bloodied cheek with a small slit. Roman rejected her gesture by tilting his chin to the other side, brows firm. Zelda roughly gripped his chin to face it to her, groaning when he pulled it away again. "Stay still you idiot," the girl insulted as she once again gripped his chin in place. "You are awfully close, it disgusts me."

Zelda delicately patted down the blood, focusing her gaze on the slit and not his lips. "Do not get comfortable, I am only doing this so Lola does not freak out." The Ravenclaw pulled the rag away, playfully blowing on his slit. Roman shoved her away, hissing. "Fuck you."

"When and where?"

Zelda teased as she strained the rag above the sink, the small thump of Roman's feet on the ground echoed emptily. "You are irritating," the boy uttered as his fingers delicately lingered around his slit. "If I were you I'd start being careful," Roman snapped before shoving past her shoulder with a shove - slamming the restroom door behind him.

Zelda furrowed her brows, pausing her movements.
Careful? What did he mean by that? The headline of The Daily Prophet crawled like a body from a grave in her mind. The memory of her mother's tortured screams and bloodied eyes bashed like a head. Her eyes bored into the sink in which Roman's blood dripped on from the fabric, the rushing feeling through her veins clumping like mud.

The feeling of her muscles contract like engined that needed oil only brought her panic to a new degree - forcing herself to stay calm with patterned breaths. The darkness of the abandoned bathroom only got dimmer as she felt as if the walls clamped shut slowly - the feeling all too familiar.

"Shit..." she let out a shaky breath, her back pressed against the bricked wall - sliding down against it. She pressed the rag against her chest, her shaky hand reached for her hand in her pocket.

"And by the way-" Roman entered the restroom, stopping abruptly in his steps at the scene. His eyes blank with his lips in a firm line, the sight of Zelda who was usually put together and far from this was astonishing. "The fuck happened?" The Ravenclaw boy kneeled beside her, hands hovering over her shoulders.

The way her pupils enlarged, lips emptily parted with a lost gaze slightly frightened Roman. "Zelda?" The boy gulped, shaking her shoulders. "Fuck me," Roman muttered with gritted teeth. A hand on her shoulder to hold her up, he reached in his back pocket for his phone.

Who the fuck do I call?

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"Remind me why we are stalking him again?" Freya squinted her eyes, making binoculars with her hands as Axelle and her hid behind a wall as they watched Clyde lean against a tree with a book in his hand. "Because he definitely knows what is going on and we have to find out."

The trees surrounding the school swayed to the gentle breeze in the warm evening sunshine. "You think?"
Freya whispered with a brow raising, hands down from her eyes. "Do I think? I know!" Axelle smirked, "what is he reading?" Freya ridiculously lifted her hands to make binoculars around her squinting eyes. "A book," she nodded to which Axelle groaned. "No shit, but what book?"

Freya hummed, pressing her legs in a tight line. "I see the word 'magic,'" the Hufflepuff nodded as Axelle raised a brow. "You think maybe dark magic? If we think about him and his family, it is really not that surprising."

Axelle tilted their head towards Freya who frowned. "I do not think we should judge someone based off their family," she eyes Axelle who had their eyes grow soft.

"Would you like it if someone judged you just because of your father?" The Gryffindor's shoulders tensed at the mention of her father, arms crossed with a clenched jaw. The mere thought of someone associating them with their father, Harry Potter, brought their stomach to churn.

Clyde's eyes were fixed on each sentence plastered in the page of book, suddenly interrupted by the small buzzing sound from his phone. He groaned under his breath as his hand dug into his own pocket, brow raising at the text from Lola; "Tea party at the Courtyard if u want to come!"

Clyde blinked at the message before giving it a thumbs up and shoving it back into his pocket. I could use some tea. He slammed his book shut and rushed out the field of trees and into a hallway. "Where is he going?" Axelle whispered in a hush, standing up from kneeling - their knees sorely aching as Freya sprang up.

"Maybe the restroom?" Freya smiled.
"Goodness, you really are naive." Axelle muttered.

Freya furrowed her brows, still smiling. "Well, where else would he go?"

Axelle shook her head, her eyes narrowing. "It's not just about where he's going. It's why he's leaving in such a hurry." She glanced at the hallway, where the figure had disappeared, the sound of footsteps barely audible now. "He's hiding something. And we're going to find out what."

Freya's smile faded as she followed Axelle's gaze, her expression becoming more serious. "You think it's something bad?"

Axelle gave a small, knowing shrug. "It's always something. People don't act like that unless they're trying to cover their tracks."

Freya took a deep breath, a hint of excitement in her voice. "Alright, let's do this then." She straightened up, glancing between Axelle and the now-empty hallway. "But we need to be careful. If he's hiding something, we can't just charge in without a plan."

Axelle nodded, her voice steady. "Don't worry. I've got a plan." She began to move toward the hallway with calculated steps, motioning for Freya to follow. "And you're going to help me execute it."

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"Why do you even bother asking dumb stuff like this?" Dante furrowed his brows, one hand on his hip as he eyed Roman from head to toe. Roman groaned under his breath, "I know your family has been into that sort of magic..."

Dante pressed his lips a firm line, gulping tightly. "I-I don't know what you are talking about."

"Bullshit." Roman spat with a mocking scoff, stepping closer to Dante who had his back bump against the shelf of books. "What do you want to know?" The Gryffindor had one hand behind his back with a glare, brows knitted.

Roman smirked cockily, "I want in."

"Are you fucking serious?" Dante whispered, observing the way Roman's lips didn't twitch - the way his face stayed eerily in place. "This has to be a joke." Roman's hand slipped into his pocket, revealing his wan which he aimed towards the abdomen of Dante - pressing it against his cousins stomach with a threat.

Dante's breath hitched as the wand pressed into his stomach, the cool metal biting through his clothes like a reminder of just how far Roman was willing to go. His chest tightened, but he held his ground, refusing to let Roman see just how rattled he felt.

"You think you can just waltz in and demand to know everything?" Dante's voice was a low, steady growl, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. "You have no idea what you're messing with."

Roman's smirk only grew wider, eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm messing with. I just want to be a part of it. Maybe I can do what you've been too scared to do."

Dante's mind raced. The magic his family dabbled in was ancient, dangerous - something not even the bravest of wizards should mess with. If Roman found out... if Roman became a part of it, there was no telling what might happen.

"You don't understand, Roman," Dante hissed, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand subtly moved to the shelf behind him, hoping to find something to defend himself with. "You think you want in, but once you do, there's no getting out."

Roman's laugh was quiet but deadly. "I'm not scared of a little danger, cousin. But if you're too weak to show me the ropes..." His wand pressed harder, "Then maybe I'll have to teach you a lesson instead."

"Tell me." Dante gulped, letting out a shaky breath.
The Grffindor revealed a letter from behind his back.
a letter with a stamp colored red that could easily be confused with blood. "This letter has everything you need...everything you want."

Roman snatched it, fingers gripping the rough envelope before swinging his wand back into his pocket. "Thanks," he muttered towards Dante who had his nostrils flaring.

"Why do you even want to get involved? I would do anything to get out and I am not even in." Roman stayed quiet. Power. If getting involved with dangerous individuals meant Roman would have power, then that would be the path. If joining blood thirsty killers would resolve the weakness that lingered in him, then he belonged.

"Shut it," Roman snapped before shoving him harshly against the wall. "You are going to regret it, Roman." Dante almost pleaded with furrowed brows, Roman ignored his pleads and stormed off - turning the corner.

Dante buried his head in his hands, ashamed and embarrassed. How could he give up so easily? Why was it so easy for Roman and not him? Why him? The boy walked away with a tightened throat and a stomach full of guilt.

Zelda had an ear pressed against the shelf, brows furrowed. Holy shit - she pressed a hand against her lips. I knew it. "I told you to sit still," Roman leaned against the shelf behind her with a brow raised. She looked over her shoulder, gulping tightly. "And I told you I'm fine," she crossed her arms and turned towards him.

Roman nodded no, scoffing as he mimicked her crossed arms. "Bullshit, you went crazy on me in the restroom." The boy whispered, Zelda quickly caught sight of the envelope. She nodded towards it, "what is that, a letter mommy and daddy sent you?" Zelda knew what it was but played dumb, she played safe.

Roman stuffed the parchment of paper in his back pocket, "potions." Zelda nodded, hands behind her back as she glanced around the scene. Zelda raised an eyebrow, studying him closely. "Potions, huh?" she murmured, her tone light but with an edge of curiosity.

"What kind of potions are we talking about?" She could feel the tension simmering, the kind of silence that almost dared him to reveal more than he intended. She shifted her weight, keeping her hands behind her, but her eyes never left him. It was a dangerous game, one that neither of them seemed willing to fully play just yet.

Roman's lips twitched, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he took a slow step back. "The kind that don't come from a school textbook," he replied, his voice carrying an almost taunting tone. His eyes flickered to the envelope again, then back to Zelda's unflinching gaze.

Zelda tilted her head, her interest piqued but still maintaining a calm composure. "So, you're playing with things you shouldn't?" she asked, her tone casual, though the underlying question was sharper than it seemed.

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze darting around the room as if considering how much to reveal. With a shrug, he muttered, "Maybe. But who's to say what's too much, right?"

The air between them was thick with something unspoken, the kind of tension that only grew when one person pushed just enough to get the other to react. Zelda wasn't sure if Roman was testing her or if he genuinely didn't care about keeping his secrets, but either way, she wasn't backing down. Not yet.

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The whole grassy landscape of the courtyard was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The breeze gently, scared to break a branch off the rustling trees. Lola sat on the blanket folded on the ground, a jar of tea and tea cups placed gently down. "Seriously, a tea party?" Clyde raised a brow, crossing his arms.

"Tea party!" Lola clapped her hands together before patting down on the blanket, signaling for him to take a seat. Clyde huffed as he sat, adjusting his sweater. "Tea?" She cheekily smiled as she waved the tea cup in the air.

"Yeah, please." Clyde nodded with a blunt tone, digging in his pocket for a cigarette as he watched her delicately fill the cup in. He lit the cigarette and placed it between his lips, Lola frowned - "please, no smoking." She politely whispered, Clyde blinked. "It is a party and I am not allowed to smoke?"

"It is a tea party!" Lola corrected him with a soft giggle, holding the cup out to Clyde with her pinky out. Clyde put out his cigarette with the end of his heel, groaning before taking the tea cup. Lola's phone suddenly rang, jumping with a squeal.

She quickly answered with a frown, slight panic obviously written all over her face. Clyde raised a brow, sipping on the tea - orange flavored. "Seizure?" Lola gasped, almost out of her seat. "Zelda, are you sure you are alright?" After a few minutes Lola hesitantly hung up, a small pout on her face.

"You alright?" Clyde tilted his chin up, finishing his cup and setting down on the blanket. Lola sighed, nodding - "just worried for a friend." Lola sipped on her own tea, her fingers tracing patterns along her skirt. "I really do love my friends."

"Love?"
"Love."

Clyde didn't know what love was. He was far from what he thought love was. Unless his new friend could show him? "You are too kind, you are a better person than I am." He chuckled, leaning back on his hands. Lola nodded no, "I do not believe you are a bad person." The Ravenclaw smiled sweetly from ear to ear, sweet like cotton candy on lollipops. "No one is bad."

Clyde felt his eyes soften, what the hell am I doing? He stiffened, shifting in his seat. "Whatever, thank you." Clyde muttered as Lola poured more tea into his cup. "You're welcome!" She poured the hot water into the cups. "So how are you?" The girl batted her lashes, shifting in her seat with a smile.

He furrowed his brows, slowly nodding his head. "Uh, alright. Just a bit irritated with administration." Clyde shrugged his shoulders stiffly.

He watched as she poured hot water, eye softening with a slight frown - why is she so kind to him? "How are you?" The blonde girl gasped, brows scrunching with a pout. "Oh my goshness. What's happening with administration?" Lola set the water down, looking over at him.

He sighed, tilting his head with a scrunched nose. "They suspect me of getting involved with dark magic, I genuinely think it is because of my last name." The boy clicked his tongue with a bitter scoff.

Lola gasped, shaking her head. "I don't think you're involved with dark magic.. unless you are....right?" Lola clicked her tongue, lips parted. Clyde nodded no eagerly, "no I am not - my family is another story." He snorted with an eyeroll.

Clyde was not his family. That is at least what he tried telling himself. He refused to let his guard down against them, blood never made family and he of all people understood that.

"Nothing new?" He furrowed his brows, arms crossed before fiddling with the tie he was attempting to undo. Lola blinked as she watched him fiddle with his tie, inching closer on her knees. "Need help?"

He nodded with a small smile he tried suppressing, clenching his jaw. His fingers unable to undo the tie, he huffed as he leaned closer. "I guess."

Clyde couldn't ignore the pounding sensation in his body that shivered the second she got close enough. Lola kneeled up, leaning over to help him. She brought her hands up to his tie, undoing it by its knot. "Boom!" She smiled, sitting back with softened eyes.

Her scent of vanilla entrancing him, he blinked - almost pinching himself. Snap out of it. "Thanks," he muttered bluntly, cold tone was contradicting what he felt inside. Clyde never felt anything for anyone, not compassion - not love - not empathy. But the Slytherin couldn't ignore the brutality of his guts wrenching.

Clyde stared at her for a long moment, trying to compose himself, but the soft scent of vanilla and the warmth of her presence were starting to invade his mind. He'd spent so long guarding against feelings—emotions were a weakness, something to be shut out, suppressed, locked behind an iron wall. Yet, here she was, breaking through in ways he couldn't control.

Lola sat back on her heels, satisfied with the undone tie, but she noticed the shift in his demeanor. The tension in his posture, the way his gaze lingered just a bit too long, made her pulse quicken. She tilted her head, sensing something was different.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice soft but not unknowing. "You okay?"

Clyde's eyes narrowed, but he quickly masked the flicker of something that almost resembled vulnerability. "Fine. Just... don't make a habit of getting too close." His tone was sharp, but it was a feeble attempt to push her away, a habit of his.

Lola gave him a small smile, unbothered by the coldness in his voice. She leaned back slightly, still close enough to feel the heat of his body. "You sure?" she asked, her tone teasing, but the quiet hint of curiosity was there too.

He wanted to pull away, to retreat into the fortress he'd built for years. But something about her - her calmness, the way she wasn't afraid to challenge him - made him hesitate. The gut-wrenching sensation only intensified. It was the first time in a long while he felt anything that wasn't anger or frustration.

Clyde swallowed hard. He was fighting something he couldn't name, but it didn't matter. He'd keep fighting it.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice low. "Just... don't get any ideas."

Lola didn't say anything more. She simply stayed there, waiting, her eyes holding a quiet understanding he wasn't ready to face.

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The first period of students participating in the Amortentia potion experiment were Silas, Atticus, and Clyde. Each of them sat at their assigned stools, their faces a mix of curiosity and excitement as Professor Perry explained the process.

Atticus, with his usual air of quiet confidence, the mist of the Amortentia potion swirling in the air. His sharp gaze locked on the brew, knowing that even the faintest scent could reveal a lot about a person's desires.

Clyde, always the skeptic, was grinning mischievously. He had always been fascinated by the more complicated potions and their effects, and he couldn't wait to see how the Amortentia would affect his classmates. He didn't expect to genuinely smell someone, it wasn't even a question...at least he tries to force himself to believe.

Silas, more sensitive than the others, was already taking slow, cautious breaths. His natural empathy made him wary of the potion's potent effects. He wasn't sure what he'd smell, but he hoped it wouldn't be anything too overwhelming. The thought of Atticus throbbed in his mind like a metal rod.

Professor Perry motioned for them to begin - her nose lifting with a hum. The three boys carefully leaned over the cauldron, each inhaling the aroma as the swirling mist began to take shape. What would they experience when the Amortentia potion revealed their deepest, most hidden desires?

The moment the boys leaned closer to the cauldron, the faintest tinge of heat radiated from the potion. The mist rose, and it was as if the world around them slowed down, every breath taken in like a delicate moment of revelation. The powerful aroma swirled through the air, pulling at their senses in ways they had never expected.

Atticus, ever composed, breathed in deeply, expecting the usual aromas of ambition and self-assurance. He was prepared for the familiar scent of polished wood or the hint of a rare spice. But as the mist brushed his face, his nostrils flared in surprise. Something warm. He couldn't place it, but it was familiar, something close to home. It unsettled him, just slightly. He frowned, shaking the thought away.

Clyde, however, was going rabid inside his pretty head. The mist had a hint of vanilla...one all too familiar. But as the steam rose, something tickled at the back of his throat, a faint sweetness that made him pause. A scent that made his heart skip. But no, it couldn't be. He barely had time to react before the smell twisted again, like fresh tea bags and roses on a new day.

But Silas... Silas felt a rush. The scent hit him like a tidal wave. He breathed in deeply, his pulse quickening as the potion's contents slipped into his consciousness. There, hidden beneath the brewing concoction, was the subtle tang of lavender - a reminder of his mother's old scent.

But there was something more potent, something foreign but overwhelmingly familiar - a flicker of warmth that seemed to tighten around his chest. The scent of Atticus's cologne, mixed with something Silas couldn't quite describe.

Professor Perry, sensing the tension, gave them a knowing glance as they slowly pulled away from the potion. The room was still, the boys lost in the powerful effect of their own desires, trying to make sense of what had just been revealed.

"Amortentia reveals more than just attraction," Professor Perry said, her voice calm but laced with authority. "It shows what your deepest heart craves most. Each scent is personal, unique to you, so do not be alarmed by what you experience."

But Silas, still shaken, could barely focus on her words. His mind was filled with Atticus's scent, clinging to his thoughts like a soft obsession he couldn't escape. Head over heels.

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Freya and Lola sat cross-legged on the floor of their dorm room, a colorful spread of nail polish bottles and beauty supplies scattered around them. The light from the string of fairy lights hung across the window cast a soft glow over the space. Lola carefully painted Freya's nails in a shade of midnight blue, the scent of acetone lingering in the air.

"So, I heard the most ridiculous thing today," Freya said, her voice low but eager. She watched Lola's concentration as she swiped another coat of polish.

"Oh? Do tell, I'm dying for some drama," Lola replied, raising an eyebrow, already knowing this was going to be good.

Freya leaned in, lowering her voice further. "You know Kiera from charms? Apparently, she and Nathan... yeah, they hooked up last weekend."

Lola paused, her eyes wide. "Wait - Nathan, as in the Nathan?" She shook her head in disbelief. "But he's so not her type. She's all about that chill, artsy vibe, and Nathan is, well... a walking red flag."

Freya giggled, flicking her wrist in dramatic fashion. "Exactly! I was like, 'are you serious? Nathan, of all people?' But apparently, it was a one-time thing, just some 'stress relief.'"

Lola snorted. "Stress relief?"

They both laughed, and Lola reached over to grab a bottle of sparkly gold polish. "I swear, Hogwarts is a whole other world. So much tea everywhere."

Freya rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it. Speaking of tea, did you hear about Cassie's secret note stash? She's been writing these stupid quotes about 'finding yourself' and 'letting go of toxic people.'"

Lola gasped. "No way!"

Freya grinned, applying a thin layer of clear coat to Lola's nails. "Oh, trust me. It's not about 'self-help.' She's been writing all these passive-aggressive quotes after her breakup with Max. It's a bit scary!"

Lola raised an eyebrow. "Ohhh, it's Max."

Freya shrugged. "Obviously. Everyone knows he's been playing the Chaser while they were together. Honestly, I'm surprised it took her this long to catch on."

Lola shook her head in disbelief. "These people, Freya. I swear, the drama never ends...I hate drama."

Freya finished up the last nail and set down the polish bottle, admiring her work. The two friends spent the next hour gossiping, their laughter filling the room, completely oblivious to the world outside their little dorm bubble.

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AUTHORS NOTE

Hellurrr everyoneee! I think three more chapters or four and act one may end!