Alex lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazy circles.
Nate's voice still echoed in his head. You'll either fit in here... or you won't.
It wasn't a threat, not exactly. It was a challenge. And challenges were invitations.
But Alex wasn't stupid. He knew Nate Jacobs wasn't a prize you could just reach out and take. Nate was a storm — controlled on the surface, violent underneath. Anyone who got too close without a plan got torn apart.
And Alex wasn't about to be another Cassie, another Maddy, another body orbiting Nate's gravity until they burned out.
No — he'd make Nate orbit him.
But to do that, he needed the stage set. And the stage was East Highland itself.
Alex had watched Euphoria five times through. He knew every storyline, every spiral, every crash and burn. Rue's overdose. Jules's search for belonging. Maddy's heartbreak, Cassie's collapse, Kat's transformation. Even Fezco, the quiet dealer with a conscience.
They weren't just characters anymore — they were people he could touch, talk to, influence.
And if he played it right, he could make himself the thread that tied all of them together.
He had to.
Because only then would everything wrap around his fingers.
The next morning, he started with Rue.
She was sitting outside the school building on the cracked concrete steps, knees drawn tight to her chest, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. Her hoodie swallowed her frame, sleeves stretched over her hands, hair messy like she hadn't cared enough to brush it. Most people ignored her — she wanted it that way.
Alex didn't.
He dropped down on the step beside her, leaving just enough space so it didn't feel like an intrusion. The smoke curled between them.
She gave him a sidelong glance, suspicion in her bloodshot eyes. "What do you want?"
Alex leaned back against the wall, letting the morning sun hit his face. "Nothing," he said easily. "Just some air."
She squinted at him, like she was waiting for the punchline. But he didn't add anything else, didn't ask for her name, didn't pry. He just sat there, breathing in the smoke with her.
After a minute, Rue muttered, "Most people don't sit next to me."
"Most people are boring," Alex said without looking at her.
That got him a small twitch of a smile, the kind Rue probably didn't even realize she gave. When the bell rang, she stood, flicked the cigarette away, and gave him a final look. Not friendly, not warm — but not dismissive either.
It was a start.
The next target was Maddy Perez.
He caught her after school, out on the football field where the cheer squad was practicing. Music blared from a portable speaker, and the girls moved in tight formation, glitter catching the sun. Even here, in a simple crop top and shorts, Maddy commanded the spotlight.
When practice ended, she stayed behind, stretching on the sidelines while her friends chatted nearby. Alex walked past, heading toward the bleachers like he wasn't paying her any mind.
"Hey, Mystery Boy!"
Her voice cut through the air like silk wrapped around a knife. Alex slowed, turning just enough to meet her gaze. She was on the grass, legs folded, her ponytail swaying as she tilted her head at him.
