ESMERALDA NORTH SURVEYED HER BATTLEGROUND WITH GRIM DETERMINATION. The lights were low, the disco ball was revolving, and the DJ was drinking water from a plastic bottle, ready to shout into the night. 

Everything was perfect. 

She just hoped it was good enough. She didn't want to disappoint, and this party was everything to her. What else could it be? Her social status needed to shine, and she needed to get into the good graces of the students of King's. 

And into the good graces of her. 

"Let's get this party started," she smiled, taking a sip of punch from a red Solo cup. 

IT WAS ONLY TWENTY MINUTES INTO THE PARTY,  BUT XANDRA CHO WAS ALREADY DRUNK. The booze was good tonight, strong, mixed with several alcoholic beverages that would certainly kill her liver, but it was worth it. 

They were in a massive penthouse, the home of the one and only Esmeralda North, but more commonly known as Brooklyn West. A teenaged model who made billions from her pretty face and prettier speech. Xandra only had an invite because she was a notorious party-goer, known for having a good time, and she was vaguely friends with Esmeralda herself. They had somewhat of an alliance, watching each other's backs at parties, but n never really saying hi to each other under the fluorescent lights of King's High. 

Here, the lights were low, LEDs fading through the rainbow, as kids bounced to the pop song that was blasting in Esmeralda's living room. Everything was easier to say and do under dim lights. Xandra nodded absently to the beat over her cup. 

In the kitchen, chips and popcorn were scattered everywhere, M&Ms crushed underfoot and leaving brown smears on the white marble floor. A charcuterie board was on the kitchen island, displayed fancily on a thick wooden cutting board, and someone --possibly Theo Sun-Laurent-- was stuffing their face full of cheese and meat. Cracker crumbs mixed with the crushed candy on the ground. Xandra hoped Esmeralda had enough money to pay for a really good cleaner. 

Here, by the punchbowl and kitchen sink, was where Xandra loaded up on drinks. She'd downed a couple of shots already, and could feel them buzzing in her veins, blurring the edges of her sight but making her adrenaline pump along to the bass of the music. She needed to get buzzed enough before making her way out onto the floor. Sober Xandra would never even think of touching that dance floor, with all the makeuped smiles and glittery compliments, but Drunk Xandra couldn't wait to get out there. 

Chugging one last questionably made drink, Xandra made her way for the dance floor, grinning fiercely at people passing by. The darkness made it hard to see, and that made it easier for Xandra to be nice to everyone. Her tongue felt fuzzy and loose, and she began singing along to the song playing as she shook her shoulders to the beat, closing her eyes and dancing freely. 

This was what it was all about. The freeness, the inhibitions... gone. She could laugh loudly, run her hands through her hair, sway to the music, and never think once about anything at all. The coldness that washed over her on a normal basis was gone; now there was only heat flashing through her, making her cheeks flushed and her dancing fervored. 

When she danced, something unlocked in her, and other people could see it spilling over her like a fountain of youth. They saw the confidence in her moments, the rosy glow of drinks and pure bliss. They were attracted to it. So when the boy came up to her, she wasn't surprised. 

"Like your dress," he shouted, gesturing to her outfit. 

It was pretty. Normally Xandra didn't wear dresses to parties, they often gave the wrong idea, but she'd gone for it this time. It was her first party of the month, and she was willing to play it up. 

The dress was black, of course, with wide strips of fabric crossing over her chest, exposing the sides of her stomach and under her ribs. The hem touched her calves, tight and adhering to her body, like a second skin. Accompanied with her customary spiked bracelets and pointed pendant, she felt like a sexy vampire hunter, and wished Halloween hadn't been over so soon. She missed costume parties. 

"Thanks," she said absently, still riding the notes of the song, lost in her own ecstasy. 

"Can I dance with you?" 

"Sure." 

His hands found her waist, touching bare skin, and she cringed a little. But nothing would take her out of this high, she deserved this, so she kept dancing. The boy drew her close, pressing her against his chest, but she moved away. 

So instead he offered her a drink, snagging a cup from someone who she presumed to be his friend, and offered it to her. "Want a drink?" 

Xandra shook her head, still dancing. 

"C'mon, you can trust me," he cajoled, raising the red cup to her lips. "Try it!" 

Xandra shut them firmly, pushing his hand away. He pushed back. 

"You made it!" someone grabbed Xandra's arm, pulling her away from the boy. Esmeralda North. Speak of the she-devil. 

"I made it," Xandra agreed, relaxing, the aching in her stomach calming. She'd never appreciated how pretty Esmeralda looked, like a guardian angel. 

The two boys slunk away, exchanging glares. Esmeralda held up a finger, mouthing one sec, and typed something into her phone. Two burly boys Xandra vaguely recognised from the baseball team came and snatched them up by the arms, dragging them out the front door. The two oafs struggled pathetically, and Xandra smirked, waving bye. 

"Men, am I right?" Esmeralda rolled her brown eyes, overly animated to be understood through the dim lights and loud sounds. 

"Yeah. Whatever. Forget those dipshits. This is a great party, by the way!" 

"Thanks," she flashed her a glittering smile, almost as dazzling as the disco ball overhead. She held up a cup. "Want a drink?" 

Xandra laughed slyly. "Can I trust you?" 

"Of course you can!" Esmeralda shouted over the noise, squeezing her arm. "I gotcha, girl." 

Xandra took the Solo cup, tipping it back. "Thanks, Es!" 

"Have a good time!" she smiled, walking away. "Watch out for creepers!" 

"Always!" Xandra raised her empty cup in toast, letting it drop to the floor as she kept on dancing. 

Nothing would ruin this night. Fuck 'em, Xandra thought over the buzz of her own head. Let's get this party started. 

THEODORE SUN-LAURENT HAD FOUND THE FOOD TABLE. It was in the kitchen (duh), and he swarmed it instantly, shovelling sliced cold meats and cheese into his mouth. 

"Fuck that's good," he groaned, chewing on a cracker. 

A girl standing nearby giggled behind her cup, batting her eyelashes at him. She was cute, yeah, but her long nails would probably hurt a lot on his back, and she looked like one of those obscenely rich types with nothing but shallow thoughts in their bubble brains. Not someone Theo was interested in. 

The kitchen was mostly empty, since people only dipped in and out to refill on punch, so Theo mostly had the food all to himself. A spiky-looking girl in the corner by the punch was scowling at him, but he didn't really care. He had cheese, and there was nobody else in the room. Good for him, he was starving. Plus, it's food. Who could turn down free food? And rich food, since Esmeralda was rich, and didn't cheapskate on anything. Mm, he loved food. 

He was beginning to suspect he might be a little drunk, too. 

"Having fun?" a dry voice asked, and Theo looked up from his cheese platter to lock eyes with the last person he'd ever thought would approach him: Naoki Mae. 

"Miss President," he gave her a low bow, almost falling over. "Lovely to see you here at this fine establishment." 

"You've got crumbs on your chin," she gestured to her own, raising her eyebrow slightly. 

He brushed them off. "Thanks. What are you doing here?" 

"Getting water," she held up a glass cup, filled with clear water. "Illias needs it between drinks, or he gets killer headaches." 

"Good girlfriend," he commented. 

She gave him a half-smile. "Thanks. What are you doing here?" 

In the back of his mind, he noted that she'd copied him, word for word. Huh. Instead he said, "I'm eating. I need food between drinks or I get hangry." 

She laughed, but her eyes stayed dull. "All right. See you later." 

"What's that?" he nodded with his chin at the other cup in her hand. 

"Oh this?" she held it up, one of the red Solo cups everybody was using for booze. "Esmeralda gave it to me, she's going around and bringing everyone drinks. She's hospitable, but it's a little extra. You want it? I'm not a big drinker." 

He took the cup from her, tipping it at her in salute. "Thanks." 

"Yeah. See you around, Theo." 

She slipped between the dancing crowd, strawberry-pink hair vanishing into the darkness. 

Theo sighed loudly, looked at the drink in his hands. There was a pink lipstick smudge around the lip, as if Naoki had put her mouth there, debating, then set it back down before drinking. He shrugged, then tipped it back, draining the contents down his throat. It burned, but pleasantly so. Lipstick smeared on his bottom lip. 

"Let's get this party started," Theo murmured, and staggered off into the crowd, looking for somebody to talk to. He could still taste cheese, salami, and bitter alcohol on his tongue. 

"YOU SEEM FINE NOW. WHAT WAS ALL THE FUSS ABOUT BEFORE?" Joseph Thorness nudged his brother, Dexter, teasingly. "It's just a party, right?" 

Dexter swallowed any amounts of panic down with the beer in his plastic cup. "Yeah. Just a party." 

"You gonna be good? It was fun to see Brooks again, but I've gotta jet. Plus hanging out with a bunch of minors isn't really a good pastime for an adult," Joe laughed. Joe was the longtime realtor for Esmeralda, professionally hired by her mother, to find the girl the perfect apartments wherever she went. Normally realtors worked in sectors, based by location, but Joe had been specifically hired as a celebrity realtor, and everybody knows celebrity realtors could bend the rules. 

"I'll be fine," Dexter reassured him, bumping his fist. "Go say hi to Reynie for me." 

"Will do!" Joe brightened at the sound of his girlfriend's name. They were head over heels in love, so much so that it was almost sickening, but Dexter couldn't be anything but happy for his big brother. "See you around, Dex." 

Dexter watched his brother leave, and had never felt more alone in the darkness, surrounded by people and their screams. 

"Yeah, see you around," he said softly. 

He wandered deeper into the apartment, running his finger over various tables and surfaces, noting the grain of wood and the material of the flat tops. Mahogany, granite, marble... 

"Hey! Dexter! Thanks for coming," Esmeralda beamed, squeezing his arm. "God, your brother is such a sweetie. I love Joe. How are you finding the party?" 

"It's really great," Dexter lied, forcing a smile. "Thanks a lot for inviting us." 

"Anything for Joe," Esmeralda beamed. "Do you want anything? A drink? Some food?" 

Dexter looked down at the empty cup in his hand. He'd had a little bit of weak, watered down beer from the keg in the hallway, not nearly enough to get his head spinning yet, but already he felt a headache coming on. Drinking wasn't the answer, it couldn't be, but somehow, in this euphoric, clouded place, the answers weren't coming as fast to him as they normally did. 

"I could use a drink," he said, holding up his empty cup. 

Esmeralda smiled, and he felt his nerves settle. "Great! Come this way." 

He followed her through the crowd, hyper-aware of people's eyes on him as he followed the pretty girl through the dancing, sweating bodies. He tripped several times on crumpled cups littering the ground, and thought about how much of a headache it would be to clean this place. Speaking of headaches, his own was getting stronger, his head throbbing in time with the quick-step rap song that was playing. He winced, rubbing his head, and stumbling after Esmeralda to a stand that held a glass bowl and a ladle, right outside the entrance to the rooftop porch. 

"Here," she filled his cup as he studied the hallways, which were framed with photos of Esmeralda as a kid, from a toddler to her most recent school photo. 

"You were cute," he noted, nodding at baby Esmeralda, her front teeth missing, beaming with round cheeks. 

She laughed, her own cheeks pinking. "Thanks. It's kinda embarrassing, but my mom likes having these up, even when she's not around." 

"Must be nice," he murmured. "My parents never bought my school photos." 

"That's all my mom seems to care about," she sighed. "Photos." 

Dexter studied her in a new light, the perfect princess with a heavy burden. Maybe she wasn't as stiff as he thought. He raised his cup to her, smiling. "Thanks for throwing this party." 

She smiled. "Of course. Go dance a little, talk to some people! Let's get this thing banging, right?" 

He smiled back. "Let's get the party started." 

PARIS MONET AND JORDAN HOOK ARRIVED, AS ALWAYS, FASHIONABLY LATE. Paris thought it would make more of an impact, but apparently Esmeralda North's house was so big, nobody even noticed as they blew through the doors. 

"Hm, guess we're not the guests of honour," Jordan said, deadpan. 

Paris rolled his eyes. "You didn't tell me she was a millionaire, Jordy." 

"Dude, I literally told you, she has a rooftop. A rooftop! I thought the implications were there,"  Jordan ran a hand through his curls, flashing a devilish grin at a passing girl. She flushed red and ran into the wall, making pictures tumble to the ground. 

"Let's get something to drink. I'm looking to make this party a little less... boring," Paris ignored the flustered girl and dragged Jordan away, into the kitchen. 

Under the harsh kitchen lights, he filled two cups for them, snagging them off the stacked piles by the punch bowl, and pouring reddish punch up to the top. 

"Cheers," Paris winked, looping the arm holding his cup around Jordan's. They locked forearms and chugged. 

Jordan let out a hissing sound. "That's good shit. It's strong." 

"Thank all the gods and your Great Aunt Judith," Paris took another long swig. "I needed that. Fuck. Did you bring any vodka or something? I wanna try mixing this shit." 

Jordan didn't reply, busy with making eyes at a girl across the way, flashing that customary devil-may-care grin. The girl was definitely Jordan's type: tall and muscular with short fluffy hair. Paris laughed, shoving him. 

"Wanna go talk to her?" 

"I wanna do more than talk to her, Paris, buddy." 

"Well, talking's a start." 

"Yeah. A start." 

As they spoke, the music began to slow, turning into the iconic slow-dance party song: Thinking Out Loud, by Ed Sheeran. People cheered and rushed to find partners, grasping waists and hugging arms. Jordan practically pounced on the girl he was eye-fucking with, grabbing her hand and pulling her to his chest. She smirked, towering over him in a way that Paris knew Jordan was fan-girling over. 

The party calmed, people gently swaying together, though some were doing much more than just dancing. Paris wanted to shield his eyes like a little kids. PDA was cute, but this was straight-up sex standing vertical. Celine would hate it if she found out he was here, but Celine hadn't found out yet, and he wasn't planning on telling her. 

Well, maybe he would, just to piss her off. 

Paris turned, looking for a partner, but absently. He wasn't dead-set on finding someone to hook up with tonight, but it wouldn't be such a bad thing, either. Just a feather in his cap for when he told Celine all about his night. She'd hate the idea of him making out with random people. 

"Wanna dance?" 

Paris looked up, and found himself face to face with Illias Cross. 

Illias. Cross. 

The gorgeous, sweet, chivalrous, slightly arrogant teenage heartthrob of King's High. The most eligible not-bachelor. AKA, Paris' first boy crush, and not a light crush either. It was more of the 8000 leagues under the sea dissolving your brain and grinding your bones to fine powder kind of crush. Not a soda can crush. 

Illias Cross. 

Fuck. 

"Isn't-- Aren't-- But-- Wait--" Paris stammered, tripping over air. 

"She's already dancing with Theodore," he reassured him, catching him by the arm, steadying him. "Naoki's not the jealous type. Trust me." 

"I--" Paris gawked, eyes tearing away from Illias' sharp jawline to the strawberry-blonde currently spinning under Theo's arm, laughing, a respectful distance away from the so-called teenage dirtbag. He wondered if they were like this all the time, so open and trusting. He felt like he was making Illias cheat on her. He wondered if she hated him. 

As if she could hear his thoughts, she locked eyes with him, and Paris felt a jolt of cold shoot down his spine. 

"She looks mad," Paris squeaked. 

Illias laughed. "She's got a resting face, but she's fine with it. I promise." 

He waved to her, and that dead-eyed glare Naoki was giving slid off. She brightened, waving back, and Illias smiled at her fondly. 

"See? It's just a dance," Illias reassured, flashing him that heart-melting grin. "You can say no." 

"No! I mean, yes. I mean-- I mean--Yeah, yeah, I'll dance with you, sure," Paris slicked back his hair with one hand, attempting to cover up the stammering mess he'd been before. 

Illias grasped his hand in his. "Great. Let's get this party started, huh?" 

He winked, and Paris thought he might sink right through the floor. 

Get it started indeed. 

IT WAS TWO IN THE MORNING WHEN THEO WOKE WITH A POUNDING HEADACHE. He was on the floor of Esmeralda's living room, and it was spotless. Did they... clean up around him? While he was blackout drunk on the floor? Geez, the rich were more ruthless than he thought. 

Two groans resounded from either side of him, and Theo turned to find himself nose-to-nose with Xandra Cho. 

"Fucking duck on a truck," she gritted, opening her eyes. "Where the hell am I?" 

"Xandra?" 

"Theo?" 

"What the hell?" they blurted together. 

"Shut the hell up, my head hurts," came the other voice. Paris pushed himself up on one hand, turned a violent shade of green, and lay back down. "Never mind." 

"No," Xandra groaned. "Anybody but you." 

"Hey," Paris protested weakly. "Mean." 

"Is anyone else here?" a quiet voice spoke up, a pretty boy in a sweater, curled up in the armchair across from them. 

"Dexter?" Xandra sat up, squinting. "Why are you here?" 

He shrugged, cheeks flushing dark. "I dunno. Why are you here?" 

"Fair enough," she muttered. 

"You know Tiny Dancer?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow at Dexter's worn brown sweater, white collar and baggy black pants, pushing himself to his elbows. "Dex, c'mon. Who wears a sweater to a party?" 

He flushed and crossed his arms. 

"We met last year. Chemistry finals back in tenth grade. He did all the work," Xandra rubbed her forehead. "Damn, I didn't think I drank that much." 

"Neither did I," Paris mumbled, still laying on the floor. "I had like..." 

There was a silence as he counted. 

"Two drinks."

"It took you that long to count?" 

"Shut up, Sun-Laurent." 

"I would, but my jaw won't close after finding out that you took thirty seconds to count to two." 

"My head hurts!" 

"Both of you shut up!" Xandra snarled, holding her dark head in her hands. They snapped their jaws shut. 

"For the record," Dexter shuffled forwards, "I didn't drink that much either. Much less than two drinks. I had that watered down beer, and then a couple gulps of the punch." 

"You think the punch was drugged? I had some too," Theo said, dragging the hem of his white shirt over his mouth. His bronze skin gleamed in the weak light, defined muscles flexing as he sat up, the blue of his jeans contrasting deliciously with his skin. 

"Put your abs away, whore," Xandra slapped him in the gut. 

He hunched, wind knocked out of him. "Ow!" 

"The punch wasn't drugged. Esmeralda told me it wasn't." 

"Speaking of, where is the lady of the house? Why are we alone in her living room?" Paris finally sat up woozily, sticking his tongue out. "Blergh." 

"Maybe she went to school already? What time is it?" 

They looked around, and couldn't find a single clock. Their phones weren't in their pockets, but that made sense, since most of them had left them in their coats, which were in some closet they had no idea how to find. 

Theo raided the fridge instead, munching on an apple. 

"What?" he protested Xandra's glare. "I'm hungry. Munchies!" 

She rolled her eyes. 

Paris was still rummaging through drawers and cabinets, trying to find a clock. "I could've sworn there was a ridiculously large and extravagant clock over the hundred-inch TV on the wall, but I guess not?" 

Xandra yanked out utensil drawers in the kitchen, trying to find a stopwatch or small digital. "There's nothing. Maybe we should look for our phones, or wake up Esmeralda?" 

"If she's even here. It could be noon, for all we know," Theo said darkly, swinging his feet as he sat on the marble island. 

"Stop that," Xandra put a hand on his leg, pinning it still. 

"You stop it!" 

"Guys!" 

Everybody turned as Dexter raised his voice, standing at the window, stricken. 

He turned, face pale. "You might want to see this." 

THE SKY WAS CHURNING LIKE THE DEEPEST SEA, clouds frothing in a spiral pattern above head, all curling into a singular point. It ended nowhere, yet everywhere, like the other side of a rainbow. Impossible to find, impossible to ignore. 

It was blue, in the loosest sense. Parts of it were sky-blue, others a starry indigo, some even as dark as navy ink. It looked like a patchwork quilt, stitched together with threads of white clouds, yet moved all at once, as if someone was shaking it out in slow motion. 

The buildings, though, were the most shocking. They could see straight through to the other side of Manhattan, nearly to 25th street, through the destruction of skyscrapers. Crumbling buildings were twined with growing ivy, and it could have been beautiful, if it hadn't been so horrible. Chunks of concrete were ripped up, leaving gaping holes of black where they used to be. Cars were totalled, crushed as if a giant had stepped on them. Glass was shattered, scattering what was left of the sidewalk in a constellation of deadly stars. 

"What the hell..." 

Nobody knew who said it, it could have been all of them. Instead they started, horrified, at their beloved city. Now decimated, blowing away in the wind, utterly destroyed. 

"Where... where are we?"

Very good question, dear children. A very good question indeed. 

author's note! 

ahhh we're finally here. chapter one. yay!

i'm still waiting for Xandra's opinions (dw ceaseless-watchr, take ur time!) so because it's only one person, i'm willing to go back and edit. plus it's Xandra, and who doesn't love Xandra?? 

this chapter is more of a teaser than anything, but next chapter more action definitely happens! can't wait! 

see you guys on wednesday <3