Henley finished her drink off just as she spotted Nick for the first time all evening. He had entered the kitchen from the backyard, laughing along with several of his friends while they refilled their cups. Not a single one of them looked her way, and she thought it was probably for the best that they didn’t catch her staring.
She was too far away to hear what they were discussing, but she watched out of the corner of her eye and waited for an opportunity to approach Nick. When his buddies began to disperse, most of them returning to the backyard, Henley saw her chance.
However, after only two steps in Nick’s direction, she lost her nerve. Instead, she turned and pretended to look at an insanely boring painting on the wall of a table with a bowl of fruit on it.
“Pathetic.”
“What?” Henley jerked her head to the side when she heard the voice. A shadow in the hallway behind her moved forward and Victor Cursey emerged.
He was tall and dressed in black pants, shirt, and jacket. He seemed to blend into the dark hall behind him as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. There was a wickedly sinful smirk on his face that made Henley want to blush. She did her best to suppress the urge.
“I saw that sad attempt,” he said, nodding toward the kitchen where Nick was still lingering. “You didn’t even make it out of the living room.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Victor’s knowing grin proved otherwise. “If you say so. But he’ll never notice you. You should know that by now. The prince isn’t the type to be drawn to girls like you.” He paused and looked her over from head to toe. “No matter how attractive you are.”
Henley couldn’t stop the shiver she felt under Victor’s intense gaze. When he swept his eyes over her, he seemed to almost be…absorbing her. Every hair on her body stood at attention. On one hand, she felt violated by his gaze and wanted to slap him for it. On the other hand, she secretly enjoyed the attention.
“Why do you call him that? Prince?”
“Well, that should be easy to decipher. Nicholas Grayson is Cyper City royalty, in every way that counts, isn’t he? Son of the city’s white knight and best at everything he does. Sounds like a fairytale Prince Charming to me.”
“You must read some pretty shitty fairytales, Victor.”
This drew a genuine smile from his face. “You know my name?”
“I know everyone’s name.” Henley was clearly bluffing, but it seemed like a good retort at the time. She wasn’t sure why she was even talking to this boy, but she couldn’t make herself walk away. “And if you hate the prince so much, why come to his party?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. I have to work, after all.”
Henley wanted to ask him what he meant by that but she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and noticed that the prince in question was walking toward her. She froze. But Nick immediately turned down a different hallway, leading away from her. A second later, he was gone from view.
Victor chuckled beside her, then held his hand up and dangled a vial of bright yellow liquid in front of her face. “Want to talk to the prince? This will give you the nerve to do it.”
“What in the hell is that?” Henley stepped away from him, studying the vial with the same scrutiny she would give a giant tarantula.
“Just something to take the edge off. You can call it…courage in a bottle.”
“That’s a vial, not a bottle.”
He rolled his eyes but held the container steady. “Last chance, beautiful. You want it or not?”
“How much?” Henley couldn’t believe those words had just left her lips. She had never once considered using drugs. Sure, she had snuck a drink or two, but this was something that could lead to dire consequences, addiction…even death. Yet, the longer she stared at the sparkling liquid, the faster her worry began to fade. This was just a one-time deal. Surely, she could survive one hit. People did drugs at parties all of the time, right?
“For you?” Victor lowered the vial and placed it into Henley’s hand. “It’s on the house.” He leaned closer and whispered into her ear, “But when you grow tired of the prince, you should come find me. I’ll show you a much better time and I won’t ever ignore you.”
Henley closed her eyes as he spoke. His voice was smooth and low, and sent a chill down her spine. She felt herself sway off-balance and her eyes flew open to find the hallway empty. Victor was gone, but the vial of courage was still in her hand. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she pulled the stopper out and gulped the contents down.
🎭💫🎭💫🎭
Nick couldn’t take it anymore.
The entire morning had been one shock to his system after another. The nice long weekend in his giant but silent house had made him all but forget about the weird run-in with Janet. He’d spent the entire time working on his homework and enjoying the peace and quiet.
But after only five minutes at school, he was rudely reminded that he must be losing his mind. The voices came like a whirlwind into his head, one after another. So many that he couldn’t decipher whose thoughts belonged to who. He couldn’t even separate his own thoughts from the others. There were so many, and every one of them was as loud as the other, washing over him like waves of pounding noise.
Being in class gave no relief, either. The other students may not have been talking aloud, but every one of them was thinking, loudly. Nick heard too many things that he never wanted to hear and a lot of mundane thoughts that no one cares about.
…I wonder if I forgot to lock the door this morning…
…Oh, man. I’m not sure if I’m ready to do this. What if I get pregnant? But Luke is so cute, though…
…Mrs. Yates has such nice tits…
Nick actually agreed with that last sentiment, but he couldn’t be sure who had said it.
…Only thirty minutes left. I really need to pee…
…Nick is too good for Scarlet. What does he see in her? She’s such a bitch…
…This class is about as useless as my stepmother…
There was just so much noise. Nick pulled his hood up, but it did nothing to block the sounds. Every single thought that crossed someone else’s mind entered his. He didn’t give a damn about someone’s new pet lizard. And while he appreciated the girl across from him’s glances and thoughts of admiration—at least, he was pretty sure those belonged to her from the way she watched him—he didn’t want to know what other people were thinking.
What had caused this? Was it some sort of mental illness? Was he imagining these things? He couldn’t be sure he was even hearing real thoughts. He considered quizzing someone, but he was almost too afraid to confirm what he suspected.
He was reading people’s minds. Hearing their thoughts. Without even trying.
And it was excruciating.
