These assholes coming back for their revenge?

"Who—who did this?" Zoan stammered as she found Jiho and Jovi leaning against the wall outside the room, their faces etched with worry. Jovi looked down, mumbling, "I was sure I locked it." She crouched on the floor, her sniffles breaking the silence.

Jiho rubbed her back, trying to soothe her as Zoan stepped into the chaotic room. The sight was shocking: graffiti covered the walls, chairs lay broken, and the table's legs were bent.

"What the hell?" Zoan whispered to herself. She turned to another wall, where more offensive words were scrawled—phrases like "get out of here" and "bitch" mixed with curse words that made her blood boil.

Instead of lingering on the destruction, she stepped back outside to Jovi and Jiho, who had settled on the floor. "Do you know who did this?" Zoan asked, her fists clenched in anger. Jiho shook her head gently, meeting Zoan's gaze.

Jovi's eyes were red, mascara smudged from tears. "N-no, I wouldn't fight with anyone. I haven't done anything wrong," she sniffled, wiping her face with her arm.

"This is all my fault," Jovi murmured, and Jiho comforted her. "No, it's not your fault. We should tell Ms. Atiro so she can file a report," Jiho suggested, her eyes pleading with Zoan.

Zoan pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the weight of the moment. "Okay… I'll go to Ms. Atiro right now and tell her what happened. I'll be right back. Don't leave!" She sprinted toward the faculty.

Uncertain of Atiro's whereabouts, Zoan knocked on the faculty door, sliding it open slightly to peek inside. The room was empty, Atiro's desk devoid of any presence.

"Crap, goddamn it," she muttered, sprinting down the hallway. Passing a few students, she asked if anyone had seen Ms. Atiro. Most shook their heads, but a couple mentioned she might be in the canteen, enjoying lunch.

"Ms. Atiro!" Zoan called, bursting into the canteen. Her instincts were right—there was Ms. Atiro, surprised, with a spoon still in her mouth. She was seated at a table with other teachers.

"Who is that?" a familiar voice piped up—it was her math teacher. Zoan gave a polite bow, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead.

"Why do you look so sweaty? Did you run here?" Atiro asked, concern etched on her face as she set her spoon down.

"Y-Yes, we need your help. The Art Club's room was trashed!" Zoan exclaimed, watching Atiro's eyes widen as if they might pop out of her sockets.

"What?" Atiro growled, startling Zoan. She hadn't expected such an intense reaction from someone usually so soft-spoken. "Ah, uh, yes…" Zoan stammered, taken aback.

"Fuck—I mean, come on, let's go! Hurry!" Atiro said, glancing apologetically at the other teachers before ushering Zoan out of the canteen.

"Let's go!" Atiro urged, patting Zoan's shoulder as they rushed toward the stairs. Suddenly, Atiro pulled her back, causing Zoan to let out a confused noise.

"Wait, we can't run on stairs. If you fall, you'll get hurt," Atiro insisted, slowing their pace and gently gripping the sleeve of Zoan's blazer.

"Ah? But—" Zoan started, but Atiro just chuckled, "We're both wearing heels, Zoan."

Zoan sighed, conceding to the slower pace. It took them about eight minutes to reach the club room, but to Zoan's surprise, Jovi and Jiho were nowhere in sight. Instead, a crowd had gathered, taking turns peeking inside.

"Aish! You all, go back to your rooms!" Atiro shouted, startling the students into a flurry of apologies as they scrambled away, some hiding their faces in embarrassment.

"What happened here?" Atiro asked, stepping inside the club room, hands on her hips as she surveyed the chaos. Graffiti marred the walls, chairs lay broken, and the table was in disarray.

"Tsk… Did you see who did this?" she asked, turning to Zoan, who only shook her head in confusion.

"Not really. I was the last one here… Jovi and Jiho were supposed to be with me," Zoan replied, scanning the room for her friends. She felt a pang of worry; she'd told them to stay put while she fetched help.

"Then where are they?" Atiro asks, stepping out of the room and scanning the empty hallway. She had successfully dispersed the crowd that had gathered.

Zoan's lips flounder as she scratches the back of her head in confusion. "I—uh, I don't know. I told them to stay here."

Atiro lets out a sigh, her arms crossed tightly, face pinched in thought. "I have a gut feeling about who did this," she says, glancing back into the room.

"Who?" Zoan presses, curiosity piqued.

"It might be the other students under Aliani," Atiro replies, rubbing her chin as she examines the graffiti on the walls. "I know two of them are into graffiti art. This room was once theirs until you got Aliani, Lorelai, and Saige suspended."

"Why does that matter? It's school property anyway, and Jovi got the room fair and square," Zoan retorts, annoyance creeping into her voice.

"They never cared about fairness," Atiro shakes her head, turning back to Zoan. "So far, I've seen at least three students who visit Aliani daily, but I suspect there are more."

"More? I thought Golden High was all about being goody two-shoes, not creating gangsters left and right! That's it—I'm going to find Jovi and Jiho, and we'll talk about this," Zoan declares, gesturing wildly at the chaotic scene around her.

"That might be best, considering today is all about clubs. I've got time," Atiro shrugs, but just then, Zoan's phone starts ringing.

She fumbles in her blazer pockets, looking for her phone, before finally retrieving it and checking the caller ID. It was Jiho again.

"Ah, this little—" Zoan mutters to herself, answering the call. "Hey! Didn't I tell you to wait for me to come back? Ms. Atiro is already here, and we need to talk—she said some serious stuff." She whispers the last words, glancing at Atiro, who is busy writing notes while studying the graffiti.

But Jiho doesn't respond. All Zoan hears is harsh breathing and muffled whimpers.

"Jiho? Hey, are you okay?" Zoan asked, her heart racing. Where had Jiho even run off to?

"Zoan," Jiho's voice came through, barely above a whisper. Zoan could hear the sniffles and cries in the background; it sounded like Jovi.

"I—I… help," Jiho whimpered, and Zoan's brows furrowed, anxiety creeping in. Suddenly, she heard Jiho yelp, followed by a rustling sound, as if her phone had been snatched away.

"Are you Zoan?" a new voice asked, and Zoan's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Who are you? Where did you take them?" Zoan demanded, her teeth gritted. Who had the audacity to take two students? And more so, her friends?!

"Are you Zoan?" the voice repeated, sounding eerily calm—definitely a woman. They had to still be within Golden High; there was no way anyone could sneak Jiho and Jovi off campus without alerting the guards.

"Yes, yes I am! Now tell me where they are!" Zoan's patience was wearing thin, her voice rising.

"Come to the old volleyball court. Let's talk," the voice said before abruptly ending the call. Zoan blinked, her hand lowering slowly as she clenched her fist around her phone, fury bubbling inside her.

"What the fuck," she muttered, not surprised or scared, but seething with anger.