CHAPTER ONE

ARIA

The sound of the bell echoed through the classroom, sharp and final, but Professor Thorne was not finished. He turned from the board, marker still in hand, and spoke in his clipped, precise tone.

“And just like that, the mixture produces water. Any questions?”

Silence followed. No one dared raise a hand. Even the students who loved the spotlight kept their eyes down, unwilling to test his patience.

“Good,” he said with a single nod. He capped the marker, straightened his notes, and dismissed us.

Chairs scraped against the floor. Backpacks zipped. Voices rose into a wave of chatter as everyone rushed to the door, complaining about formulas and laughing about weekend plans.

I stayed in my seat, waiting until the room was nearly empty. After two years at Night vale Academy, my routine was the same: leave last, walk quietly, avoid attention. Break meant the library. After school meant tutoring. No surprises. No drama. Just safety.

When the crowd thinned, I slipped my notebook into my bag and started down the hall, taking slow bites from the shortbread my mom had packed that morning. A sip of water, and I would be at the library. No wasted time.

“Aria! Wait up!”

Jenny’s voice rang out behind me, full of energy, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned to see her jogging, blonde ponytail bouncing, her cheeks flushed with effort.

Finally, when the flood of students thinned, I grabbed my bag and started walking, nibbling the shortbread my mom had packed. A quick gulp of water, and I would be at the library—no time wasted.

“Hey, wait up!” Jenny’s voice cut through the noise, urgent and breathless. Her blonde ponytail bounced as she jogged to catch me.

I sighed, half out of habit, half resignation as I slowed my pace. She was my best friend, if you counted the fact she was the only person I actually spoke to.

“You don’t have to run,” I muttered, letting her fall in step beside me.

“You walk like you’re training for a marathon,” she teased, still panting. “One day, I’m just going to let you disappear and see where you go every break.”

I tightened my grip on my bag. “You already know where I’m going.”

“The library,” she said flatly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you ever get tired of staring at books all day?”

I glanced at her. “Do you get tired of staring at boys all day?”

She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Low blow.” Then she smirked. “Fair… but not everything has to be so serious. Aria, you’re seventeen, not seventy.”

“I like quiet. Besides, I have tutoring after school. How can I teach without knowing anything?” I said simply.

“You like hiding,” she countered, poking my arm. “Big difference.”

My lips pressed into a tight line. She was not wrong.

Jenny softened, her teasing melting into concern. “Look, people are going to Cassie Davenport’s party on Friday. Everyone’s talking about it now. You could come with me.”

“Not interested,” I replied quickly.

“You’re never interested!” she groaned. “You don’t even have to stay long. Just… show your face. Talk to someone who isn’t me. Please?”

I stopped at the lockers, offering a faint smile that barely reached my eyes. “Jenny, you’re the only friend I need.”

Her frown deepened, almost tragic, before my phone buzzed in my pocket. Expecting a tutoring message, I pulled it out.

It wasn’t tutoring.

It was Aaron. My long-distance boyfriend since high school. Recently, he had been distant, cold. My chest tightened like a fist had wrapped around it.

Jenny leaned closer, curiosity sparkling. “Ooo, is that loverboy?”

I angled the phone away. “Don’t call him that.”

“He’s your boyfriend! You’ve been together forever.”

“Two years,” I whispered, my voice small. “And… long distance.”

Jenny raised her brows. “Which is basically forever in high school years.”

I could not respond. My eyes glued to the screen, rereading his words, disbelief and hurt coiling into a heavy, suffocating weight:

> You still haven’t done what I asked. I don’t think this is working anymore. Maybe we should just end it.

The world tilted. My stomach dropped. My hands trembled. No words came.

Jenny’s expression shifted. “Aria? What’s wrong?”

I swallowed hard, tears welling. “He… he’s breaking up with me.”

Her eyes widened. “What? No. He wouldn’t—”

Before I could respond, she snatched the phone. Her eyes darted over the screen.

“Wait…” she said slowly, her voice serious. “He’s asking you to do something?”

I lunged. “Give it back!”

She blinked, confused. “Aria…”

Snatching it back, I hugged it to my chest. “Nothing. It doesn’t concern you,” I said sharply.

Jenny tilted her head, curiosity and worry mingling. “Okay… but whatever it is… you love him, right? Then… you’ll do what he wants. That’s what girls do when they like boys.

you can't even imagine things I have done for Damian

I pressed my lips together, throat tight, stomach twisting. “It’s not that simple…” I murmured, refusing to meet her eyes.

Jenny shrugged. “I’m just saying. You’re always so… serious. Sometimes you have to show a guy you care.”

My heart hammered. Every part of me screamed to not to do it, but I loved Aaron.

The rest of the day crawled by. I barely made it through classes, my mind spiraling with anxiety and fear. Tutoring was canceled; I could not face anyone or myself.

I got home with my mind still racing, my thoughts heavy and tangled with everything that had happened earlier.

Aaron—after everything we had been through—was willing to throw away two whole years over pictures. The house felt too quiet. Mum wasn’t home yet from work.

I picked up the spare key from under the mat and opened the door. Lunch was already packed on the dining table, the smell warm and inviting, but I couldn’t even look at it. My stomach felt like a knot.

"How could I eat when Aaron was talking about leaving me?"

I went straight to my room, my hands shaking as I closed the door behind me. My heart pounded like it wanted to escape my chest. I picked up my phone and dialed Aaron’s number again and again, each time rehearsing the words in my head, begging silently that if I just said the right thing, if I just sounded right, he would stay. He had to stay.

Finally, on what felt like the hundredth call, the line clicked.

“Send me what I asked,” he said, his voice flat and cold.

I froze, gripping the phone tighter, pretending for a moment that I didn’t know what he was talking about. “What?” I whispered.

“You know what I mean.” His tone sharpened like a blade, leaving no space to pretend. “Naked pictures, Aria. I want to see your body. You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

My stomach dropped, my knees weakening as if the floor had fallen away. Nausea crawled up my throat, hot and bitter. “Aaron… no…” I breathed, the word barely holding itself together.

“If you love me,” he said slowly, each word cutting deeper than the last, “you’ll do it. Otherwise… we’re done. For good.”

The line went dead. My chest tightened so hard I thought I might collapse. I stared at my reflection in the black screen of my phone. My hands shook uncontrollably. My throat burned.

I undressed slowly, my hands shaking. A part of me was screaming not to do this, begging me to stop, but Jenny’s words echoed in my mind — “sometimes you have to show a guy you care.”

And then Aaron’s voice returned, sharp and cold: “If you don’t do it, we’re done.”

My chest ached. My throat burned. I faced the mirror, tears in my eyes, and took pictures I wasn’t proud of. Each click of the camera felt like a piece of me breaking away.

With my whole body trembling, I pressed send.

Perfect—I can weave that in and heighten the panic. Here’s the rewritten scene:

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, the soft chime of a notification pierced through the quiet.

I scrambled for my phone, my heart hammering in my chest, expecting to see Aaron’s name glowing on the screen. But the moment my eyes landed, color drained from my face.

Not Aaron.Delivered to Adrian Cole.

My chest tightened, and my stomach dropped so fast it felt like it had vanished. I stared at the screen, frozen, my breath caught in my throat, silently willing myself to be wrong.

“No…” The whisper slipped past my lips, fragile and broken, but the truth refused to bend. My hands shook uncontrollably. I wanted to throw the phone, smash it, erase what I had just done—but the glowing words remained, cruelly clear.

I had sent the pictures to Adrain

The golden boy of Night Vale.

Tears blurred my vision, making the letters swim before my eyes. Desperately, I tried to delete the message, my fingers fumbling over the screen, praying I could undo the mistake. But then… three dots appeared.

Adrian is typing…

My breath caught in my throat. My whole body went rigid. Panic clawed at me. I couldn’t look away . And just when my fingers trembled over the delete button, my phone screen went black.

Battery dead.

I sat frozen in the silence that followed, terror twisting in my chest, imagining every possible reply Adrian could be sending as I stared at my dead phone.