Nyx/Levyn

Chapter 1 - Nyx

I'm starving again.

My stomach growls, loud enough for the whole room to hear, and I wince, clutching my gut like that'll somehow quiet it. It's not just hunger—it's the ache of an empty life gnawing at me, carving me hollow, making everything inside dark. My parents, if you can even call them that, say it's my fault. They call me fat, as if I'm anything but bones and bruises. I wear these oversized clothes to hide the wreckage, but nothing can cover up how fucking hungry I am.

I know Levyn's watching me. I can feel his gaze burning the back of my neck, like it always does. He thinks I don't notice, but I do. He's a fucking cocky bastard, with those cold eyes, always laughing with his crew at the way my clothes hang off me like sacks. I guess it makes him feel better, being the rich kid, all clean and untouchable. Yeah, go ahead, laugh. I'll give him something to laugh about one day.

He takes it further though—stealing my food, snatching away the one fucking thing that might give me some control in this shitty life. It's like a game to him, a twisted joke. I catch his smirk every time, the glint of satisfaction as he watches me scramble to find something, anything, to fill the void in my gut. My fists clench under the table, the rage boiling up, but I can't show it. I can't let him know how close I am to snapping.

I shift in my seat, wincing at the sharp pain in my ribs. Another gift from my dear old dad last night when I didn't bring in enough cash from the last "client." I have to hide it all. The pain, the bruises, the shame. No one can know what happens behind those doors. Especially not Levyn. The last thing I need is for him to get more ammo to fuck with me.

But the asshole has a way of seeing through me. Even when I'm trying to stay invisible, blending into the cracks of this world, he finds me, pushes me. I don't know why he does it—maybe because his friends hate me, hate my poverty, the dirt under my nails, the fact that I exist at all. And maybe he doesn't have the balls to be different from them.

But there's something else in his eyes sometimes. I can't fucking explain it. He looks at me like he's about to devour me, like I'm some kind of challenge. And then he shuts it off, just like that, going back to his perfect little life.

He doesn't know. He doesn't know that behind the tough look, behind the swears, I'm fucking crumbling. Every day is a battle to survive. Between the beatings, the starvation, and the men my parents sell me to, there's barely anything left. But fuck if I'll let him or anyone else see that. Not while I've still got breath in my lungs.

Today's the same as always—he's sitting a few seats away in class, his eyes on me, waiting for his moment. And I know it's coming. He'll take something from me, like always. Maybe my lunch, maybe a pencil, or maybe just another piece of my pride. But not today. Not this time.

I sit up straight, ignoring the stabbing pain in my side. My oversized hoodie hangs loose, hiding the marks, hiding the truth, but it also makes me look like a ghost. And maybe that's what I am now. Just a ghost trying to fade into the background.

But Levyn? He won't let me. He's always there, always fucking watching, like he's waiting for the moment I break. Well, let him watch. Because one day, I'm going to break something. And it won't be me.