Chapter Three: Tristan's Party

Nathan stared out the windshield of his Aston Martin while his father’s voice blasted through the speakers loud enough for Kelly to hear every word.

“You’re coming with me this weekend,” his father said. “The Harringtons are hosting at the golf club. Their son just got accepted into Stanford’s law program.”

Nathan rolled his eyes as he drove through downtown traffic toward Tristan’s party. “Good for him.”

“You should learn something from boys like that.”

“There it is.”

“What?”

“The comparison part. You never miss it.”

His father scoffed. “You should be compared. Maybe then you’d finally feel ashamed enough to act properly.”

Nathan’s grip tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

Kelly quietly looked out the passenger window, pretending not to listen.

Nathan laughed once, dry and humorless. “I’m not spending my weekend listening to your friends brag about their children.”

“You don’t have to worry about competing with them anyway,” his father snapped. “None of their sons are gay fags embarrassing their families everywhere. You keep disappointing me.”

Silence filled the car. Kelly shifted awkwardly, but Nathan’s expression didn’t change at all because he's used to it. After years of this, he had gotten very good at looking unaffected.

“You done?” Nathan asked flatly.

“You think this is funny?”

“I think you should get another hobby, you can't rely only on calling me gay fag for fun.”

His father’s voice sharpened instantly. “Watch your mouth when you speak to me.”

Nathan’s jaw tightened. For a second, something ugly flashed behind his eyes. Then he smirked.

“Can’t. Busy being a national disappointment.”

“Nathan—”

Nathan hung up.

The silence afterward felt heavy.

Kelly glanced at him carefully. “You okay?”

“Fantastic.”

“You sure?”

Nathan scoffed softly. “It’s cute that you still ask, do you have a crush on me or something?”

Kelly rolled his eyes, “do I look like one of your boy toys?”

“That's a not so direct response to my very direct question,” Nathan teased, “y'know I think you'd suck my dick if you had the chance.”

“Ohh my God, Nathan, stop it. I'm not gay or bi. Although it's a little unfortunate that I'm friends with you and your smart mouth.”

Nathan didn’t respond after that, he just grinned and focused on the road.

The car continued through the city while loud music played low through the speakers. Nathan drove faster than necessary, one hand lazily on the wheel while city lights flashed across his face.

His father’s words kept echoing in his head anyway.

Gay fag. Embarrassing. Disappointment.

Nathan hated how normal those words sounded now.

By the time they arrived at Tristan Mercer’s party, irritation was already boiling beneath Nathan's skin.

The penthouse sat high above downtown Blackthorne, all glass walls and expensive lighting. Students crowded the entrance dressed like they were attending a celebrity event instead of a college party.

Luxury cars lined the street below.

Nathan smirked slightly as he stepped out of his car.

Of course Tristan rented a penthouse.

Nathan had hosted his birthday party in one three months ago, and Tristan copied almost everything about it afterward.

Pathetic.

Music thundered through the building loud enough to shake the elevators. By the time Nathan and Kelly entered the penthouse itself, the place was already in chaos.

Bodies everywhere. Alcohol everywhere. People dancing, making out, shouting over the music.

The Blackthorne Elite.

Nathan immediately grabbed a drink from someone’s hand and swallowed half of it without asking permission.

“Nathan!” a girl squealed happily before wrapping herself around his arm.

He grinned automatically. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Another guy appeared beside him almost instantly. “Thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

“I changed my mind.”

That was the thing about Nathan.

He walked into rooms and people naturally gravitated toward him. Attention followed him everywhere whether he wanted it or not. Usually, he enjoyed it. But tonight it just felt loud.

Kelly disappeared into the crowd while Nathan drank more than he probably should’ve.

A girl kissed him near the kitchen.

A guy asked him for his number near the balcony.

Someone challenged him to shots. Nathan accepted immediately.

Anything to drown out the anger crawling under his skin.

Then he noticed Mr Hale.

Professor Vincent Hale stood near the far corner of the penthouse speaking calmly with another professor from campus. Black dress shirt. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. One hand holding a drink.

Even in a crowded room full of rich, beautiful people, Prof. Vincent somehow stood out effortlessly.

Nathan stared longer than he meant to.

Vincent glanced up suddenly and their eyes met across the room.

Nathan smirked lazily and lifted his drink slightly. Vincent looked away first.

That tiny victory made Nathan feel irrationally pleased.

“Still obsessed, I see.” A voice came, sounding a little mocking.

Nathan looked over to find Tristan Mercer approaching with two drinks in hand and his usual arrogant smile.

Tristan was the kind of rich that came with entitlement instead of charisma. Brown hair, expensive watch, daddy’s money written all over his face.

Nathan tolerated him in small doses. Mostly because fighting Tristan was entertaining.

Nathan accepted one of the drinks. “You invited Hale.”

Tristan smirked proudly. “Shocking, right?”

“How’d you convince him?”

“I asked politely. Maybe he likes me more than you.”

Nathan laughed lightly. “Impossible.”

Tristan grinned and clinked their glasses together before leading him toward one of the large couches where several other students sat drinking.

The conversation started normally. Just talks about parties, classes, and random gossip.

Nathan relaxed slightly after a few more drinks, lounging back against the couch while people talked around him.

Then Prof. Vincent’s name came up again.

One of the girls laughed softly. “Professor Hale is ridiculously attractive.”

“No shit,” another guy muttered.

Tristan looked toward Nathan with amusement. “Nathan definitely agrees.”

A few people laughed.

Nathan grinned lazily. “You sound jealous, you want my attention on you instead?”

“No no no. I’m just saying,” Tristan continued, “you attend Human Sexuality every single week. You never miss his classes, and you barely show up to other classes.”

“That class is educational.” Nathan playfully argued. He knows everyone's very aware of how much he likes playing with the professor.

“Sure.”

More laughter.

Nathan laughed too at first.

Then Tristan kept talking… “You stare at Hale like you want to fuck him on his desk.”

Nathan took another sip from his drink. “Maybe I do.”

“Oh my God,” someone laughed loudly.

Tristan leaned back against the couch. “Honestly though, I wouldn’t trust professors like him.”

Nathan’s smile faded slightly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” another student asked.

Tristan shrugged casually. “Come on. Hot young professor teaching about sex and some psychology shit? You really think he’s not sleeping with students?”

A few people exchanged looks.

Nathan stayed quiet.

Tristan noticed. And pushed harder. “Guys like Mr Hale hide behind professionalism, but they’re all the same underneath. Predators with fancy degrees. He acts all non-chalant, but he's definitely not what he seems.”

Something cold moved through Nathan’s chest.

The room still laughed nervously.

Tristan smirked toward Nathan again. “Though I guess Nathan would know better than anyone.”

Nathan’s voice stayed calm. “Know what?”

Tristan laughed. “Whether Mr Hale’s fucking students behind closed doors. I mean, Nathan, you're his top student.”

The room erupted. Someone nearly choked laughing.

Nathan didn't find it funny.

Tristan kept going anyway. “Honestly, the only reason you’re probably passing that class is because you’re bending over for the professor. He doesn't look like he could bottom, he's so Alpha coded. And Nathan, you haven't acted or looked fluid until your obsession with playing around with him started. You fuck your girls into walking suspicious the next day, and your boys usually needs a day to walk again. Suddenly you move around like you don't mind being on the receiving end. Interesting. Professor Hale is predator, and he managed to make our play boy Nathan into his prey.”

The laughter became louder.

And something inside Nathan snapped.

One second he was sitting down. The next, Tristan crashed backward into the glass table with Nathan’s fist buried in his face.

The entire room screamed. Nobody reacted fast enough, but when they do it's just them pulling out their phones to take videos of the fight.

Nathan hit Tristan again.

And again.

And again.

Blood splattered across the white couch.

“Holy shit!”

“Nathan!”

People rushed forward but Nathan shoved them away violently.

Tristan tried swinging back once, but Nathan punched him hard enough to send him collapsing onto the floor.

Then Nathan climbed on top of him, and continued raining down punches on Tristan's face.

That was when people started panicking. Because this wasn’t one of Nathan’s normal fights; there was no smirk, no performance, no control, just rage. Pure terrifying rage that has everyone gasping.

Nathan kept punching him long after Tristan stopped fighting back.

Furniture crashed beside them, students screamed and scattered. More phones came out recording.

“Nathan stop!”

“What the fuck—”

“There’s blood everywhere!”

Nathan barely heard any of it.

All he could hear was Tristan’s voice repeating those words.

Predator. Bending over. Predator.

Someone grabbed Nathan from behind. He threw them off instantly.

Another guy tried pulling him away and got punched hard enough to stumble backward into a lamp.

Tristan’s face was covered in blood now.

Nathan still didn’t stop.

It finally took four people dragging him backward together to separate him from Tristan.

Nathan struggled violently against them, breathing hard, blood smeared across his knuckles and black shirt.

The room looked horrified. Somebody was crying. Someone else whispered, “What the hell is wrong with him?”

And then…

“Nathaniel.”

Professor Hale’s voice cut through the chaos calmly, and Nathan froze instantly.

The entire room went silent.

Mr Hale stood near the crowd now, hazel eyes fixed directly on Nathan.

Nathan’s chest rose and fell heavily while blood dripped slowly from his knuckles onto the floor.

And finally, he looked at what he had done.