Xavier

Chapter 10: A War Between Friends

(Xavier's POV )

I was already in a bad mood.

The whole day.. Is a fucking disaster

I was already seething when I stormed into the locker room.

Everything about today had gone to shit.

First, Elena Monroe had run her mouth again.

Second, the stupid video was still everywhere.

And third—Grayson.

My own friend.

He had defended her.

In front of everyone.

Like I was the bad guy in my own fucking school.

I couldn't believe that he defended her...

Fuck.. -

I slammed my bag onto the bench, breathing heavily through my nose.

This was unacceptable.

Then, as if the universe wanted to test me even more—the locker room door swung open.

Grayson Westwood.

I turned slowly, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

Grayson walked in like he had no care in the world, tossing his bag onto the opposite bench.

He barely glanced at me before smirking. "Well. That was fun."

Fun?

I took a slow step forward. "You think this is a joke?"

Grayson sighed dramatically, stretching his arms. "Xavier, my man, you need to relax. You look like you're about to kill someone."

"I just might," I growled, my fists tightening.

He finally turned to face me, brows raised in amusement. "Oh? And who's the lucky victim?"

I clenched my jaw, glaring daggers at him.

He knew. He fucking knew.

And he was enjoying this.

"You defended her." My voice was deadly low.

Grayson blinked. "Yeah. And?"

And?

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

He shrugged. "Am I supposed to let Vanessa and her army of brainless clones rip into her?"

I took another step forward. "You were supposed to stay out of it."

Grayson snorted. "Since when do I take orders from you?"

"Since you knew better than to go against me."

His smirk widened. "Damn, Knight. Didn't realize I signed a contract."

I snapped.

In a blur, I grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the lockers.

The metal rattled violently.

Grayson let out a sharp exhale, but his smirk didn't drop.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" he taunted.

My grip tightened. "Watch yourself, Westwood."

He let out a slow breath, his expression shifting slightly.

"Or what, Xavier?" he muttered. "You gonna take me down just to prove a point?"

I didn't respond.

Because I wasn't sure what the hell was happening.

I had never fought Grayson before.

We had always been on the same side.

But now?

Now he was looking at me like he had figured something out.

Like he knew something I refused to admit.

"You don't even realize it yet, do you?" he murmured.

I frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

His smirk returned, but this time, it wasn't mocking.

It was knowing.

"Doesn't matter," he said, prying my hand off his shirt. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

That pissed me off even more.

Before I could think, my fist shot out.

Grayson dodged it at the last second, stepping back with a laugh. "Damn, you're really mad, huh?"

I swung again, but this time, he caught my wrist.

His expression finally turned serious. "You sure you wanna do this, Knight?"

I yanked my hand away. "You went against me, Grayson."

His jaw ticked slightly. "And maybe you should ask yourself why that pisses you off so much."

That froze me.

I stared at him, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Because the way he said it—

Like he knew.

Like he knew exactly why I was so fucking furious.

And he was right.

But I wasn't ready to admit that.

Not to him.

Not to myself.

Not to anyone.

So instead, I took a step back, exhaling sharply.

Grayson watched me carefully before shaking his head. "You're a mess, man."

I forced a smirk, even though my pulse was still racing. "And yet, I'm still the one running this place."

He laughed under his breath, grabbing his bag. "For now."

Then he walked out, leaving me standing there—seething, restless, and more pissed off than before.

Because for the first time in a long time…

I wasn't sure who had really won that fight.

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