Chapter Nine
Taine had woken up on Wednesday morning feeling like he'd been run over by a metaphysical lorry. The memories of Tuesday night—D tapping on his window, the impossible £400 deadline, and the devastating, beautiful half-hour with Michael—swirled in his head until he wasn't sure what was real and what was a demon-induced fever dream.
His day had been a fog of lessons, people Matt nudging him when he’d been too quiet. That bright face of his, curious as to where his
Chapter 8: The Trade
The final bell’s shriek was usually a sound of liberation, but today it felt like a prison door slamming shut. Justin stood frozen, five feet from Tim, the space between them suddenly a vast, uncrossable minefield. The air was thick with the unsaid, charged with the panic emanating from their buzzing phones.
Tim’s screen glowed with two damning words: “A trade?”
Justin’s own phone, in his suddenly numb hand, displayed a message in a sickly, cheerful
Chapter Eight
The smile was still on Taine's face when he pulled into the petrol station.
It was a stupid smile. An embarrassing smile. The kind of smile that Chloe would have photographed and held over him for eternity. But he couldn't help it. Tyler's last text—"Drive safe, Professor"—was still warm in his phone, and Charlie's grudging blessing was still warm in his chest, and for the first time since the train, the world felt like it might actually be survivable.
He
Yeah, Matt's more a... Chaos gremlin, who likes his dino pajama's and eating all of Charlie's mom's food.
Just fond of the chaos and order match ups... favoured trope of mine.
Yeah the boys are still one step behind when it comes to realizing their tech is compromised. While they shut down the cameras, they haven't shut down the microphones, or the actual interactions.
The archivist would have heard their plans, had access to the shadow doc, and sat there with an amused, raised eyebrow waiting for them to clue in.
Chapter 7: The Resistance Forms
The roar of the scattering freshmen faded, leaving a ringing silence in the hallway that was somehow louder. Justin’s bravado evaporated the moment the last kid turned the corner, his shoulders slumping as if the strings holding him up had been cut. He leaned heavily against the lockers, the cold metal seeping through his shirt. He could still feel the phantom burn of every eye that had been on him, could still hear his own voice, too loud, too crude, h