Coco's POV
Tyler was halfway through an unnecessarily dramatic monologue about "heartbreak in a math class" when I noticed them again.
Two students, standing just by the heavy velvet curtains near the stage—both in black, heads slightly bowed, their faces half-hidden in the shadows. I wouldn't have given them a second glance if it weren't for their eyes.
Glowing.
Red.
Not in the obvious way. Not like movie-vampire special effects. But something… unnatural. Like the reflection you catch in an animal's eyes at night. Cold. Watching.
My body tensed.
I squinted, leaning forward in my chair, ignoring Sid's whisper about how beautiful Tyler's "existential pencil metaphor" was. The two figures turned and slipped behind the curtain. Gone.
I bit my lip, heart thumping. I'd seen that glow before.
At the dorm party.
In Kiara Jones, Evan Hansen too.
just a flicker of it, I was still trying to convince myself I imagined it.
But I hadn't.
Something wasn't right here.
"Sid, I'll be right back," I said quickly, rising from my seat.
She blinked. "Where are you going?"
"Bathroom," I lied, already hurrying toward the stage side.
The curtain swayed faintly, and I slipped behind it, careful not to make noise. The backstage area was dimly lit, quiet except for the muffled mic feedback and Tyler's over-enunciated rhymes booming from the speakers. I followed the sound of footsteps—light but urgent—down a narrow hallway.
"Hey!" I called out.
No answer.
I rounded the corner fast, heart in my throat, and—
A wall of black blocked my view.
I gasped, stumbling back.
James Green.
Tall. Pale. Perfect in that haunting, too-still way. His eyes—silver in the light—pierced into mine like ice, but his face remained calm. Detached. Almost bored.
"What are you doing back here?" he asked, voice quiet, like a blade wrapped in velvet.
"I—I was just—" I looked past him, but the hallway behind was empty. No trace of the students. Like they vanished.
"I thought I saw someone."
His lips twitched, almost a smile but not quite. "You're new. You'll learn not to chase shadows at Mt. Olives."
I frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He tilted his head slightly. "Exactly what it sounds like."
And then, without another word, he stepped aside and gestured toward the direction I came from. Dismissive. A silent order.
I hesitated—chills running down my spine—then nodded and turned back toward the main hall.
As I walked away, I could feel his eyes on my back the whole time.
Something was definitely wrong here.
And I was going to find out what.
Soon enough.
----
I wasn't sure what was more suspicious: the creepy red-eyed students disappearing into thin air… or the smug, eerily calm way James Green had stared me down like I was a bug buzzing too close to a secret. But whatever that was, I'd barely had time to process it.
Because when I returned to the hall—
"No freaking way…" I mumbled, blinking in disbelief.
Sid was standing near one of the punch tables, looking like she'd just accidentally walked onto the set of a fairy-tale prom scene. Pink-cheeked, nervous as hell… and talking to Michael O'Brien.
Mike freaking O'Brien.
The sharp-jawed, dark-eyed boy with that half-lazy smirk and the "I don't care but somehow still look god-tier" energy. His sleeves were rolled up, tie undone, hair like he just woke up from a dangerous nap—but he was focused, really focused, on Sid.
Who was actually giggling.
I practically sprinted over before she passed out or spontaneously combusted.
"Ohhh wow," I drawled, sliding in beside her like the nosy gremlin I am. "Hi, Mike."
He raised an eyebrow, smile twitching. "Coco."
I turned to Sid and grinned, leaning into her personal space just to make her squirm. "So… this is where I find you? Blushing so hard I'm surprised the fire alarm hasn't gone off?"
Sid elbowed me, face now beet red. "Stop it."
Mike chuckled, deep and smooth. "Don't worry. I think it's cute."
Okay.
I gave Sid a look. She looked like she might float into the ceiling or throw herself into a pit of embarrassment. Either way, I decided—just for tonight—I wouldn't ruin her moment. Even if Mike screamed trouble, even though he was literally a man-whore.
Sid isn't stupid.
"Right. Well," I said with a wink, "I'll leave you two lovebirds—I mean, acquaintances—to your conversation."
I twirled away dramatically, satisfied, and—
Bumped.
Straight.
Into.
Her.
"Watch it, junior."
The voice was ice-cold and laced with venom. I didn't even have to look up to know.
Kiara Jones.
Tall, wickedly gorgeous, and oozing that mean-girl perfection like she invented it. Her dress was blood-red. Eyes narrowed. Jaw tight.
My heart skipped—but not from fear. From instant, instinctive loathing.
She gave me a slow, mocking once-over. "Didn't know they let lost children in tonight."
I smiled sweetly, resisting the urge to shove her into the decorative fountain.
"Well, they let in trash. Why not me?"
Her eyes sharpened, lips curling into a poisonous smile.
This was going to be fun.
-----
There are moments when you just know something's about to go down—and the second I bumped into Kiara Jones, I felt the temperature around me drop ten degrees.
She stood there like the queen of petty, arms crossed beneath her over-exaggerated cleavage, eyes raking me top to bottom like I was something she stepped in.
Kiara laughed, sharp and fake. "You're cute. Delusional, but cute. Don't get too comfortable, sweetheart. You might wear his name in your smile, but I wore it in his bed."
Oh.
Oh, she wanted to bleed.
My spine straightened. "I didn't realize clinging to someone who doesn't want you was a personality trait."
Her eyes darkened.
"You think he wants you?" she spat. "He pities you. You're his little project. His rebound from me."
I leaned in, voice steady and dangerous. "If I'm a rebound, why are you still circling the court?"
Kiara stepped closer.
"Watch it, you filthy whore."
My brows shot up. "Excuse me?"
She smiled smugly. "Oops. Did I say that out loud?"
A second of silence ticked by.
Then—
"You insecure, little bitch. The sooner you accept the fact that Xavier isn't yours, the better. " I said calmly.
Kiara raised her hand like she might slap me— But then,
"Say her name one more time."
That voice cut through the noise like a crack of thunder.
Everyone stilled.
I turned.
Xavier stood behind Kiara, taller, darker, more dangerous than the night sky behind him. Eyes black with restrained fury, jaw clenched so tightly I thought he'd crack his teeth.
Kiara froze.
"I—she started it—"
Xavier ignored her. "You were warned."
"I didn't do anything—"she whined.
He took a slow step forward.
"This is your last warning, Kiara," he said, each word deadly calm. "Insult her again… and I will make you regret it."
Kiara's defiance faltered. She scoffed, spun on her heel, and disappeared into the crowd like a storm cloud retreating—rattled, but not finished.
That's when I turned on him.
"You didn't have to do that."
He blinked, thrown. "Do what?"
"Jump in like some damn savior!" I snapped. "I had it handled."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "She was going to hit you."
"I wanted her to!" I said. "You think I'm some helpless thing that needs you to fight my battles?"
He stared at me for a long second—then without another word, he grabbed my hand.
"Hey—"
"Come on."
"What? Let go of me—Xavier!"
Too late.
He was already dragging me through the hall, past the murmuring crowd, past the fluttering lights and confused faces. I heard Sid call my name somewhere behind us, but his grip was firm, warm, relentless.
And for a second, just a second, my heart betrayed me and fluttered.
But I wasn't letting him off easy.