Novels by Adaugo Chy

Drake lay curled on his small, uneven mattress, one arm flung over his eyes to block out the flickering light bulb overhead. The streetlamp outside his window shone faintly, casting distorted shadows across the peeling wallpaper. His ribs still ached, but his thoughts hurt more.Steve's shoe pressing into his hair. The metallic taste of shame on his tongue. The cold sting of everyone’s eyes.And Miguel. That stupid lounge scene.Drake let out a breathless laugh. Even now, even after everything, the memory of Miguel leaning close made his lips curl into a shy, bitter smile. His breath had been warm. He smelled like minty cigarettes and cinnamon and something expensive.And then, he walked out. Like Drake was the one who ruined the moment."Asshole," Drake muttered, rolling over. But the smile didn’t quite fade.His eyes fluttered closed, and his thoughts wandered. To Miguel’s party. He imagined the chandeliers, the rich students laughing over wine, dressed in tailored suits and silk. H

Miguel slammed the door behind him just as he was done talking, the sound echoing in the hallway like a gunshot. Inside the lounge, Drake stood frozen, chest tight and stomach knotted. His lips still tingled from where Miguel's breath had leaned in earlier, only to storm out seconds later.Drake didn’t understand it. Not the intensity in Miguel’s eyes. Not the sudden shift from maybe what he thought was closeness to rejection. And certainly not the look of heartbreak Drake thought he saw for a split second before the door slammed shut.His chest ached. Why would Miguel want him out of the academy?He was used to cruelty. But this? This kind of emotional whiplash from someone like Miguel,was a new kind of hurt. Drake bent slightly, palms on his knees, forcing himself to breathe.Just as he walked out to the hallway then, voices drifted in from the corners.."Did you hear about the party at Miguel's place tonight?""Yeah. End-of-the-month bash. But it's invite-only.""Wish I could go. H

Miguel's phone buzzed violently under the broken table. Xander reached out and picked it up, glancing at the screen.Adams Sanchez. His brows furrowed."You want me to—"Miguel snatched the phone. His fingers shook as he pressed the answer button and brought it to his ear. No greeting. Nothing.A low, smug voice came through."Hi son. It’s been a very long time."Miguel said nothing."I have a package delivered to you. Go get it."Click.Miguel's face darkened. He stood sharply, the legs of his chair scraping the floor. He walked out without a word, his expression a storm.Xander called after him. "Miguel? What the hell is wrong with you!”But Miguel was already gone.**Drake sat alone in the classroom, fingers brushing over the strange note left inside the lunch package.Hall 19. Floor 4.He read it again.The handwriting was neat, and blocky. But he didn’t know who had sent it.His stomach twisted. The food remained untouched, despite the hunger raging wars inside his stomach.Was

Miguel didn’t blink. “What do you want me to say?”Steve tried to joke, to ease the thickening air. “Depends. What do you want to do about it…I just admitted to liking you”Miguel’s eyes hardened a bit. “Nothing. I’m not just interested. You know I'm straight, so why tell me that?”“You don’t have to be a dick about it,” Steve muttered, voice quieter.“I’m being honest,” Miguel said sharply. “You confuse obsession for affection. Whatever game you think this is, count me out. I'm not..and will never be into guys. You get it? So I advise you to kill that feeling.”The words landed like blows. Steve swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to rejection, especially not from Miguel.Still, he forced a bitter chuckle. “Then I’ll make you a deal. One task. After that, I’ll leave Drake alone.”Miguel studied him like he was staring at a strange animal behind glass. “I have always known you liked me…But you think I'd be impressed with whatever you do?”“No. But you’ve always wanted me to leave Drake. Le

"Here," Steve said, his voice smooth, mocking. He tossed something lightly into Drake's palm.Drake blinked, stared down. It was his keys that had fallen from his pocket. Just the keys.He let out a quiet, shaky breath. Relief loosened his shoulders, if only a little. Maybe they hadn’t found the journal after all. Maybe this wasn’t the nightmare he feared."Relax," Steve smirked, his lips curled like a predator who enjoyed playing with prey. "You're safe. For now."Drake didn’t speak. His voice would crack if he tried.Thea appeared at Steve's side, and together, they turned, walking out of the classroom like royalty who had finished toying with the poor, and were proud of it. The door creaked softly as it shut behind them, leaving Drake in a vacuum of fear and half-swallowed relief.The marble hallway was quiet, save for the click of Thea's designer boots echoing beside Steve's calm steps. They were heading to the reserved lounge(RL), an exclusive room hidden on the fourth floor, mea

Drake couldn't even reply back. He had no words to say, he just nodded his head in a gentle affirmation. Steve gave him a cute smile, the kind that made you want to punch the cuteness out of his face, “good little boy.” He played with Drake's hair for a bit before taking steps back to his seat.Drake turned slowly toward Thea, unsure of what he'd find on her face. Maybe concern. Maybe a small, secret smile of reassurance like before.But instead, what stared back at him was something twisted.An evil grin.Wide. Cold. Almost satisfied.His breath caught.It felt like someone had poured ice down his spine.Thea didn't even flinch. She tilted her head slightly, as if admiring him from afar, but not with affection, but amusement. Like he was some tragic play unfolding, and she had front-row seats.She planned this.The apology. The setup. The humiliation in front of everyone. The videos.She planned all of it.He turned back in his seat, face blank, but his chest burned. But why?Betra