Chapter 27: The Quiet Before the Collapse

Campus felt different now. The air was lighter, conversations seemed less hushed, and for the first time in days, Ryan wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Adrien’s suspension had created a temporary calm.

But beneath that quiet, something festered a tension Ryan could feel in the way his fingers twitched when he typed, in the way his phone buzzed with blocked calls and strange messages he refused to open.

Chris had started sleeping on the floor again, despite Ryan insisting he didn’t need to. “It’s just until you feel okay again,” Chris would say, rolling out his blanket next to Ryan’s bed and cracking a joke to lighten the mood. But the truth was, Chris didn’t trust that Adrien was truly gone. Neither did Ryan.

Daniel had grown quieter too. He still texted, still showed up to walk Ryan to class, but there was something restrained about him now, like he was afraid of pushing too hard.

The night Adrien was suspended, Daniel had held Ryan’s hand the whole walk back from the admin building, but once they got to the dorms, he hadn’t stayed. Just a soft smile, a “text me if you need anything,” and then he disappeared into the dark.

The following day, Chris found another envelope slipped under their door. It wasn’t addressed this time just Ryan’s name scrawled in perfect, neat cursive. The letter inside wasn’t a threat. It was worse.

“You’re mine whether I’m here or not. No one else gets to touch you the way I saw you. I don’t need the campus to watch you. I only need you to remember me.”

Chris had burned it in the sink. No hesitation.

Ryan couldn’t eat that day. He sat at the cafeteria, tray untouched, while Chris picked at his food and scanned every face in the crowd.

The paranoia was seeping back in. Adrien wasn’t just a person they were starting to realize he was a shadow that learned how to cling even after the light came back.

Later that night, Ryan tried to write. His screen was blank for over an hour before he finally typed: “Some villains wear a face so beautiful, the world never believes they’re capable of cruelty.”

The cursor blinked at him. He left the line there. It felt too honest to delete.

By Friday, the campus was buzzing again. Whispers about Adrien’s parents threatening to sue. Rumors about him being seen outside campus. A few students claimed he was in the city. Others said they saw someone watching the Humanities building from a black car across the street.

Daniel showed up unannounced in the evening, holding takeout and wearing that soft frown he always did when he was worried. Chris was at practice, so it was just them.

“Eat,” Daniel said gently, setting the box in front of Ryan. “And don’t argue. You’ve been skipping again.”

Ryan looked at him, weary. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’re never hungry when you’re scared.”

Ryan flinched, but he didn’t deny it. He opened the box and started picking at the rice with his fork. Silence wrapped around them. Comfortable for a few seconds, then tense.

“I’ve been thinking…” Daniel started. “Maybe you should stay somewhere else for a while. My cousin has a place just outside the city. Quiet. Secure. You could rest. No Chris, no class, no…”

“No me?” Ryan’s voice was barely above a whisper, eyes still on the food.

Daniel sat down across from him. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Ryan finally looked up. “He’s not done. I can feel it.”

Daniel didn’t answer. He just reached across the table and took Ryan’s hand. This time, Ryan didn’t pull away.

But peace never lasted long.

By Sunday night, Chris barged into the room, breathless, phone in hand. His eyes were wide, jaw clenched.

“Ryan. You need to see this.”

Ryan stood. “What happened?”

Chris turned his phone around. A video was playing posted anonymously, barely a few hours old. Grainy, but clear enough. Adrien, standing across the street from the dorms. Smiling. Holding something in his hand.

“Pause it,” Ryan whispered.

Chris did.

The object Adrien held was a small black notebook. Ryan’s writing journal.

His stomach dropped.

“How the hell did he get that?”

“I don’t know,” Chris muttered. “I thought you kept it in your drawer”

“I do.”

Ryan turned to the desk and yanked the drawer open. Empty. His breath caught.

Chris moved quickly. “We’re telling campus security. Right now.”

But Ryan didn’t move. He stared at the empty drawer, heart thudding in his chest. Adrien wasn’t just watching anymore. He had crossed a line. Invaded the one place Ryan thought he was still safe.

And now… he had his words. His thoughts. His vulnerability.

Chris grabbed his jacket and slung it over Ryan’s shoulders. “Let’s go. You’re not sleeping here tonight.”

Ryan nodded slowly, numb. “Where are we going?”

Chris looked at him with something fierce in his eyes. “To someone who can actually help.”

Outside, the campus felt too open. Too exposed. And somewhere in the shadows, Adrien watched, Ryan knew. Watched and waited, smiling, with Ryan’s heart in his hands.

And Ryan, for the first time, wasn’t sure if he’d survive what came next.