Do you want to meet all my monsters?
Think you're tough I know they'll drive you bonkers
Meet them once and they'll forever haunt you
— Darkside by Neoni
I hadn't seen Gray since Saturday, and Isaac was missing too. Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked Victoria and Liam about it, and they said Gray was on a business trip in New York, while Isaac had to leave to attend a wedding in Italy. According to Liam, Isaac was royalty — a prince of Greece.
"You gotta be shitting me?" I gaped at Liam stupidly.
He chuckled. "Isaac's a real prince, and he has four older brothers."
"But don't royalties have specific etiquettes to follow when they're in public?" I asked inquisitively. "Isaac's...wild."
Victoria burst out laughing. "Babe, even if they had those, Isaac wouldn't bother."
"Isaac's a free bird," Scarlet chipped in.
"Also," Jordan added, "he's like the 37th in line."
To say I was appalled by the revelation was a total understatement because I was rendered speechless for a solid ten minutes. When I asked them if they all came from wealthy families, they all nodded. I left my curiosity at that, not wanting to stick my nose further.
Sometimes, ignorance was bliss.
"....The co-founder of Brickfields is from South Korea, and to honor him and his roots, his partner decided to follow South Korea's academic calendar. This is why our semester begins in March."
I threaded my fingers through my hair, intrigued by the history of Brickfields, but too jaded to retain any of the information shared. My international relations professor was teaching us the school's history so we could understand how a foreigner managed to influence the economy in America.
Once we were dismissed, I bolted out of the lecture hall, instantly spotting the buggy closing in my direction. It slowed as it neared the designated drop-off zone, and I slipped into the seat behind the driver as soon as it stopped.
I entered the administration office and walked over to the woman dressed in black corporate attire sitting behind the desk, focusing on the computer screen. Hearing my arrival, she glanced up with a friendly smile.
"Hello, what can I help you with?"
"Hello," I smiled back at her. "I want to know if the yearbooks from the years 1983 to 1990 are available?"
"Name?"
"Summer Hale."
"Are you planning on ordering them?" she queried, and I nodded. "Alright, please give me a moment."
She stood, straightening her blazer as she turned towards the 'staff only' office behind her, the glass windows frosted from top to bottom, concealing what was inside.
I pressed my hands on the granite top, allowing the coldness to calm my nerves as I took in the rest of the office. I realized that I didn't pay any attention to how it looked the last time I came. The space was enormous, the structure and design similar to a hotel foyer. It was a two-floor office, but students were not allowed upstairs. Soft jazz played audibly in the background. The floor was polished concrete, the walls white, and the furniture was undoubtedly from a high-end Scandinavian designer, judging by how it looked.
The sound of a door opening caught my attention, and the receptionist walked out of the staff-only office with an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, but there aren't any available copies with us right now. We've stopped printing the yearbooks from the 1960s to the 1990s," she informed me. "But we do have an archive of it in the main office in London, and it would take about six months maximum before you could receive them."
"That long?"
She sat on her swivel chair. "The archives are not exactly the most accessible. And since Brickfields University is only a branch of a corporation, we would have to send a request letter to the executives, which would then be passed to their superiors, and finally to the CEO of the company for approval," she explained.
"Can't the executives approve the request?"
I wasn't expecting the process to be that difficult. It didn't make sense that the CEO himself would have to approve it unless it was meant to remain out of reach.
"Inquiries of older yearbooks have always been this way. The CEO is the only one who can give the final say to either approve or deny the request."
"Okay, then I'd like to order the yearbooks from 1983 to 1990."
"Alright," she said, reaching out to grab a pen and a template paper across the desk. She handed me both and smiled. "Please fill out this form and choose which method of payment you prefer."
After filling out the form and settling with the payment, the receptionist informed me that they would send me an email of the progress for the requested yearbooks and that they would have them delivered straight to my dorm room.
I walked out of the office and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Six months was too long; I needed another option. I dialed Samantha's number, and she immediately picked up the call, greeting me with a warm hello.
"Hello, Samantha," I greeted back. "I need to ask a favor."
"Anything," she replied.
"The yearbooks would take about six months to arrive, and that's only if they approve my request. I need another option on how to get it; a faster way if it's possible. Can you find that out for me?"
"I'll look into it."
I reached the east courtyard where my friends were waiting. Victoria phoned me and said they would be waiting for me here. The area was filled with students chilling underneath the trees and in front of the lake, but it wasn't difficult to find them with Isaac's boisterous laughter.
My eyes widened, and I increased my pace.
"Summerino!" Isaac bellowed, ushering me to take a seat. "I heard you found out I was a prince."
"Are you? Or were they tripping?" I questioned, sliding into the bench next to Scarlet, who offered me a juice box. Smiling, I accepted it from her. "Thanks, Scar. I'm so thirsty."
"Don't mention it, sweetie," she giggled.
"They weren't tripping, babe." Isaac winked at me.
I poked in the straw and took a long sip of the juice before speaking. "That's so friggin' cool," I bubbled, mesmerized.
"Mer, are you done for today?" Liam asked me, and I nodded. "Coolio! There's going to be a party at the soccer house, you should join us."
"Sure, I can do that. But I can't stay too long."
"Why not?" Isaac wailed dramatically.
"Friday exists for everyone else, Isaac," Jordan inserted, shaking his head lightly.
I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm a diligent freshman, okay? If you guys decide to throw a party on the weekend, then I won't have a problem staying until three in the morning."
"Yeah, why don't you guys throw a party tomorrow night instead?" Scarlet asked, eyebrows furrowing.
"Sadly, a certain Daddy Gray has ordered us not to throw a party tomorrow since he'd prefer resting when he returns," Liam sighed deeply.
My heart skipped a beat as I fiddled with the plastic straw of the juice box. Last Monday morning, I waited for him at the coffee shop, and it made me worry when he didn't show up. It was only after Victoria and Liam told me that he was on a business trip that I was able to breathe in relief. I haven't received any messages from him either, even in our group chat. Liam would tag him a few times, asking when he was coming back, but there was always no reply. I might've missed the message of his return today since I hadn't gotten the chance to check my messages since this morning.
Scarlet's eyes twinkled. "He's coming back tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Liam drawled, eyes moving away from her.
I glanced at Isaac, who had a somber expression on his face, and then to Victoria, who seemed oblivious and confused at Liam's sudden shift in attitude. Jordan seemed to have sensed the tension in the air, seeing him turn away in the other direction. Like me, Victoria's eyes darted back and forth between Isaac, Liam, and Scarlet.
Weird.
● ● ●
We were outside by the pool, lounging on the chairs. The party wasn't as wild as last week, with only the boys who lived here and a few of their friends as the guests. I was told that seven of them lived in this house, counting Gray and Liam. I was introduced to all the other five. There was Garrett, Daniel, Luke, Tucker, and Colton.
Amazingly, they were all the best soccer players in Brickfields, and they were living here together since Gray was the team's assistant coach.
"What about you?" I asked Liam.
A cocky smile appeared on his lips. "I'm funding the team alongside Gray."
"Richie Rich," Victoria teased.
"Hey, guys," Jordan greeted, walking over to us. My eyes landed on the guy he had his fingers locked with; he was handsome with golden hair and high cheekbones. "This is Nick, my boyfriend. He's a freshman," he said.
After everyone else greeted Nick enthusiastically, Isaac pulled him into a brief hug. "What's up, man? It's been a while," he said.
"Dude! How was Spain?" Liam asked with excitement.
"Fucking awesome," Nick answered.
"Nicky! I've missed you so much!" Victoria exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's nice to know that you and Jordan are finally dating."
Nick chuckled, cheeks flushing. "It was time, you know."
"Babe, this is Summer," said Jordan, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Summer, this is Nick. He just came in today."
"Hi," I mumbled shyly.
Nick grinned at me. "It's nice to meet you. Jordy said you're studying Business Studies and Law. I'm doing the same course too."
"Really?" I almost squealed. "It would be nice to have someone to share the headache with."
He laughed. "I fucking know, right."
We settled ourselves on the available spaces. I shared a lounge chair with Victoria while Scarlet nestled herself on the one to my right. Liam and Isaac were on separate foldable chairs with a beer in hand to my left. Nick and Jordan were across from us, cuddling. Others were sitting on the ground with their feet plunged inside the pool. I was introduced to most of them, but I couldn't keep track of all their names.
"Is Gray coming?" a girl with vibrant purple hair asked. She was sitting across from me on a bean bag with a can of Bud in her hand.
"Why? You looking for a quick fuck?" Tucker snickered, eyeing her with an eyebrow raised. "If you're that horny, I can fill in his place."
"Why do you have to be so grotesque?" Scarlet spat in annoyance.
"I'm being available. There's a difference."
"Do you know about it, Summer?" the purple-haired girl asked, shifting her attention to me.
"Know what?"
"You don't know? Aren't you supposed to be his rumored girlfriend?"
My lips curled into a frown. "I don't keep track of a lot of unnecessary things. What is it that I don't know?"
"Apparently, Gray's a sex god," Victoria said quietly, her words a little slurred. I figured she was already tipsy after chugging down five cans of beer in under three minutes.
I blinked once. Twice. That was it?
"It sounds so damn sexy every time someone talks about him that way," the purple-haired girl sighed dreamily.
"Has he fucked you yet, sweetie?" Tucker intervened.
"He would be fucking me right now if he was here."
"Please, the man has standards, and you don't comply," Scarlet snarled, her eyes turning to slits as her painted nails dug into the can.
"You talk cock, Scar. Gray hasn't touched you even with all your advances."
"Okay, ladies," Garrett huffed. "There's no need to take out the claws."
The purple-haired girl rolled her eyes and shot up to her feet. "I'm out of here. Ciao."
We all stared at her as she stomped her feet back into the house and disappeared into the distance. Isaac let out a long whistle while shaking his head. For a good two minutes, it was silent and awkward. When Luke started sharing a story about what happened to them at practice today, the atmosphere lightened.
The night progressed slowly with sports stories shared by the soccer team. Scarlet decided to leave an hour later since she had to be early tomorrow for some rehearsals. I sat for another thirty minutes, and seeing that it was already close to midnight, I figured it was time to head back too.
"Victoria," I called, shaking her shoulder gently. "Come on, let's go back."
"She can spend the night here," Liam offered, smiling softly.
"That would be better," I said, smiling back at him. "Please take care of her, or I'll have no choice but to chop off your balls."
He winced, eyes widening slightly as the other boys laughed. "You two are aggressive as fuck."
After exchanging farewells, I exited the soccer house. The chilly night breeze sent a shiver crawling on my skin, and I crossed my arms against my chest. There were a couple of other students walking around the campus grounds, and it was almost relieving. I controlled my breathing slowly, knowing that I was going to be alright.
I didn't enjoy walking alone at night, no matter where I was. Occasionally, when I had no other choice, I would always break into a cold sweat, and my heart would squeeze until it was impossible to breathe. I started having these fears when I was nine, and it never got better.
Once I walked out of the elevator, I started fishing for my dorm keys in my bag. Taking it out, I raised my head and spotted Gray leaning against the wall beside my door. He was wearing a plain black shirt and tattered jeans, topped with a pair of black combat boots. He had his head down, but when I called out his name, his eyes lifted and met mine.
A soft smile adorned his features upon seeing me, but a frown dominated mine. Everything in his face told me that he was on the brink of collapsing from exhaustion.
"How are you?" he asked the second I was standing in front of him.
"I've been good," I answered cautiously. "What about you? I thought you were coming back tomorrow."
"Yeah, that was the plan. But I wanted to see you tonight."
"Me?" I squeaked out, my chest giving a not so gentle squeeze of its own. I glanced away and cleared my throat, walking past him to unlock the door. "Do you want to come in?" I asked.
"Actually, I was wondering if you have a first aid kit. I can't go back to the soccer house yet, and I don't have one with me at my place."
My head snapped in his direction, and my eyes instantly scanned him, searching for a scratch on his face and arms that were exposed. But there was nothing. My mouth parted to ask him what the kit was for when I noticed how his left hand clutched his stomach.
I exhaled a shaky breath, my fingers trembling as I twisted the key and pushed open the door. Gray staggered forward, and I rushed over to his side and under his arm, holding him up. I kicked the door shut and helped him sit on my desk chair. His lips pressed together as his face twisted in pain. I dropped my bag and keys on the desk and reached out for his shirt.
"Just give me the first aid kit, Shortcake. I can manage by myself," he said breathily, eyes squeezing shut.
Ignoring him, I peeled off his shirt and sucked in a deep breath. His torso was painted with dark blue and purple hues, patches of yellow scattered all over, indicating that they weren't new. These were a few days old, at most. Did he lie about going on a business trip? Shoving away the impending curiosity, I swallowed hard and lifted his shirt higher to peel it off. Gray didn't protest, but the hiss he made caused a pang of worry to my chest.
"Can you take a shower?" I asked.
"Already did that."
"Okay, can you stand and move to my bed?"
He nodded and rose to his feet. I placed his right arm over my shoulder and helped him to my bed, sitting him down. Then I rushed to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit, rummaging through it until I found an ointment for bruises. I hurried back to him. He had his eyes closed with his back leaning against my headboard.
The bed dipped when I sat next to him, and his eyes fluttered open.
"I can take it from here."
I shook my head stubbornly. "Just let me take care of you tonight."
He hesitated for a moment as his eyes lingered on my face. I kept my stare firm despite the worry consuming me. He let out a deep sigh. Accepting it as an approval, I removed the lid of the balm and placed it on my nightstand. Then I dipped two fingers into the cool gel and gently applied it on his skin, rubbing in slow circular motions.
I could feel his eyes trained on me, burning the top of my head as I lathered his bruised abdomen with the ointment.
"I have a question for you," he said softly.
"What is it?"
"Have you ever driven in a fog? The kind of fog that's so dense, you can't see more than a few metres in front or behind you to the point that you must rely on your memory to navigate the road."
"What are you getting at?" I asked quietly, glancing up at him through my lashes. He was staring down at me with gentle eyes, and my gaze dropped briefly to the silver cross necklace around his neck before returning to his abdomen.
"Life can be like that sometimes," he continued. "It's like we're trying to navigate through a fog externally while operating in a mental fog. Simple tasks require more concentration and effort, and we're left feeling inadequate and weak for being exhausted all the time. But that doesn't mean life will always be like that."
"Because the fog will clear one day," I said, finishing his sentence. I couldn't help but smile. Hearing this from someone meant a lot. "Like how there are rainbows after every rain, the fog will clear up."
"Precisely."
"And what is with the sudden life lesson?"
"I figured you needed to hear it."'
I nodded. There was no denying that I did.
After applying the ointment to his skin, I noticed the long scar on the left side of his stomach. It was covered with a dark purple hue, and when my fingers touched it, Gray sucked in an audible breath, flinching slightly.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
I closed the ointment and rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands, my head swirling with questions about his condition and that scar. For some reason, it made my heart ache. I shook my head. I was probably just feeling worried.
Gray was still seated on my bed when I returned.
"Do you want to watch something?" I asked.
"Is Victoria coming back?"
"She's spending the night at the soccer house."
He nodded slowly, eyes thoughtful. I grabbed my laptop and slumped down on the bed beside him. He scooted further to his right, giving me space.
"What do you want to watch?" I asked again.
"I'll watch anything you want."
I smiled sheepishly. "I don't think you'll want to watch what I have in mind."
"I'm pretty sure I'll survive." His eyebrow lifted, seemingly challenged by my statement, and I couldn't help but snort at his sudden competitiveness.
I opened my laptop and headed to Netflix, clicking the first show in my Continue Watching list.
"Le Bazar de la Charité?" he asked.
I quickly noted the fluency in the way he spoke, and my mouth opened, closed again. "You speak French too?" I questioned in a slightly higher pitch.
"Yeah, I had to learn it."
"How many languages do you speak?" I asked, deeply amused.
It turned out that Gray could speak a total of ten languages, and I made the polite gesture of asking him to say a sentence in each language. He nailed it, of course. I only understood six of those he could speak, which he was pretty surprised by. It was hilarious to see his eyes widen and his mouth fall ajar in shock when I translated what he said.
"So, what's the story about?" he asked, motioning to the French soap opera we were watching.
I started the show two days ago but have only managed to watch one episode. I recapped what happened in episode one, leaving Gray reluctant to watch the show with me. There were a few complaints at the beginning of the second episode, but he quieted down once we reached the middle. By the time we reached the third episode, it was almost four in the morning, and he was thoroughly enjoying the show. But he drifted off to sleep in the middle of the episode. He was now lying on the bed, facing me with his head resting on the pillow.
I closed the laptop and placed it on my nightstand. Then I moved out of the bed and covered him with the duvet, noticing how younger he looked when he was asleep. I pushed away a strand of his hair and smiled.
Part of me wanted to go beyond the surface of Gray's sometimes cold and sometimes approachable front, but another part of me was terrified of what I would find.
Because a person who was quiet and detached from the world always meant that they were hiding something they wished would remain buried.