Chapter 5

Bryan arrived at school the next morning with a single mission: find Derek, return his ID, and thank him.

But Derek was nowhere; not in the basketball court, not in the cafeteria, not in any of the hallways Bryan nervously peeked into.

"Maybe after class," he whispered to himself, standing outside Derek's class like a lost puppy. He forced himself to walk away.

***

His first class was a blur. Bryan sat in the back row, eyes glazed over as the professor’s voice droned on like a distant, irritating lullaby. The whiteboard might as well have been blank. All he could see was the night before— the stranger in black, the ID on the ground, Derek's name staring back at him.

A familiar figure dropped into the seat beside him. Valerie leaned, elbow on the desk and smiled at Bryan like he knew a secret.

Bryan didn’t take the bait at first. But after a minute of being stared at, he muttered, “What?”

Valerie leaned in closer, voice low. “So… are you into Derek?”

Bryan's reaction was immediate and violent. "No! I'm not."

The denial was so loud that some students turned around, giving them annoyed looks. Even the professor paused mid-sentence, lowering his glasses slightly.

“Pardon me, Mr. Smith,” the professor said, raising one gray eyebrow. “Do you have something more insightful to share about macroeconomic theory than I do?”

The entire lecture hall was staring now. Bryan’s face burned. “No, sir. Sorry.”

He sank lower in his seat as the professor resumed. Valerie was shaking with silent laughter beside him, shoulders trembling.

"Easy there, tiger. I'm not judging." Valerie wiped a fake tear from his eye. "I'm asking because I'm curious. The way you looked at him when you knelt beside him yesterday... and then you ditched me to take him to the campus clinic. I have eyes, Bryan.”

"That's not...I was just worried, okay? He got hurt because of me. Anyone would have done the same."

Valerie held up both hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. No need to get defensive." He paused, then added softly, "For what it's worth, I don't care who you like. You're still my friend."

Bryan's throat tightened. He wanted to say thank you, he wanted to say a lot of things, but all he could do was manage a small smile. He turned away, put on his glasses and stared at the board, his heart a mess.

Class after class dragged by. By the time the final class ended, Bryan felt like he had run a marathon. He checked the time: 6:00 PM.

Derek's last class should be ending now.

"I gotta go," he told Valerie, already standing. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Before Valerie could respond, Bryan was gone.

He walked through the emptying hallways, his footsteps echoing softly. When he reached Derek's class, he peered inside and his stomach dropped.

A girl was sitting on Derek's lap, arms looped around his neck. She was laughing at something, her face inches from his. Derek was smiling...that easy, confident smile that made Bryan's chest ache.

"Come on,” the girl purred, playing with the collar of Derek’s shirt. “Are you coming or not?”

Bryan's face burned. He turned to leave...and slammed his knee against the doorframe, the loud thud echoing through the empty classroom, drawing everyone’s attention.

"Hey," Derek called out. Bryan froze. He heard the scrape of a chair, then footsteps. Derek appeared in the doorway, close enough that Bryan could smell his warm, woody cologne. "Are you looking for me?"

Bryan turned around and forced a brittle smile. “I, uh… came to say thanks. For yesterday.” He grabbed Derek’s hand, pressed the ID into his palm, and quickly let go like it burned him. “You dropped this.”

Derek glanced down at the ID, then back at Bryan, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Where’d you find this? I’ve been looking everywhere since last night. Thanks, Bryan.”

'He knows my name.'

Bryan's heart stopped, then restarted at double speed. Derek said his name like it belonged in his mouth.

"I have to go," Bryan choked out. He turned and fled before Derek could see the blush crawling up his neck.

….

Instead of heading home, Bryan wandered the quiet paths around campus, trying to cool the fire in his chest. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Every time he blinked, he saw Derek’s smile, heard the way he’d said his name.

Then someone stepped directly into his path.

He nearly crashed into her. When he looked up, his stomach twisted. It was the girl who had been sitting on Derek’s lap. She was tall, strikingly beautiful, with long dark hair and sharp, knowing eyes that scanned him like she already knew every secret he was trying to hide.

“What a taste Derek has,” she said, lips curving into a smirk.

Bryan frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Are you into guys?” She asked bluntly.

The question hit him hard. "No. I'm not." Bryan replied too fast. She laughed.

Before he could react, she reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his phone, and started typing.

“What are you doing?”

"I think I've got a rival," she said, handing the phone back a second later.

"Can you tell me what this is about?" Bryan's voice came out sharper than he intended.

She smiled. "Derek called you cute."

Bryan's mouth went dry.

"I like fair competition," she continued. "That's his number. Consider yourself one of the few who have it." She tilted her head. "And honestly… Derek doesn’t care about labels. He likes who he likes… as long as they keep his attention.”

"I'm not… gay. And I'm not interested." Bryan turned and walked away, his heart slamming against his ribs.

"You can try seducing him," she called after him. "He doesn't reply texts unless he sees a reason to. And trust me...once you figure out what that reason is, he won't resist."

Bryan didn't look back. He walked home in a daze, his phone feeling heavy in his pocket. Derek's number was imprinted into his memory even though he hadn't even looked at it.

'Derek called you cute.'

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

When he got home, he ate dinner absentmindedly. He showered, sat on his bed in the dark, and stared at the ceiling blankly.

‘He doesn't reply unless he sees a reason to.’

Bryan picked up his phone and opened the chat. For several long minutes he just stared at the empty box, thumb hovering.

‘Don't do it,’ a voice in his head screamed. ‘You'll regret this.’

But another voice...louder, desperate, hungry, whispered back: ‘What if you don't? What if he wants you?’

He thought about Derek's smile, Derek's voice saying his name, Derek saving him from the school monster when everyone else just watched.

“Fuck it.” Bryan muttered under his breath, standing up and walking to the bathroom. He stared at himself— the soft eyes behind the glasses, the trembling lips, the bruise still fading on his cheek.

Then, before he could talk himself out of it, he took off his clothes. He took a full nude picture with no face.

It looked shameless and desperate… exactly how he felt.

Bryan typed the caption with unsteady thumbs, deleting and retyping it multiple times.

"Is this enough to get your attention?"

He hesitated briefly, before hitting send.

****

Across the city, in the cold silence of the Whitmore mansion, Ryder was pulling on his jacket when his phone buzzed on the marble counter.

He picked it up without thinking and opened the message from an unknown number.

The picture loaded slowly. Then it appeared...a naked body, slender and pale, posed in front of a bathroom mirror. No face, just skin and shadow and... vulnerability.

Ryder's brow lifted. "What the hell?"