Chapter 06-in trouble

Frank's POV

We still hadn't heard back from the rugby team by Friday, and both Nancy and I were starting to get nervous.

We debated whether we should send a follow-up email, but then again, the team had just won the championship last month. They were probably drowning in interview requests. The Sports Times, Rugby World, and countless smaller media outlets whose names we couldn't even remember were all probably lining up for a shot. The championship buzz hadn't died down yet—those short videos from the final were still racking up insane views on social media.

We decided to wait a bit longer. After all, we didn't want to leave a bad first impression. This was a rare opportunity—we couldn't afford to mess it up by seeming pushy.

At lunch in the cafeteria, my right eyelid kept twitching.

Some say it's just superstition, but with so much on my mind, I couldn't help but read into it.

I put down my fork and glanced at Nancy. "You don't think there's something wrong with our interview request, do you? I feel kind of... uneasy."

"No way," Nancy said, chewing on a mouthful of spicy, juicy Indian curry. "We're contacting them on behalf of the campus paper. They'll see that and—oh..."

Her voice trailed off.

The more she spoke, the more uncertain she sounded. The more she said, the colder her tone got.

She wasn't worried about us being interns using the school paper's name. She was worried that someone else from the campus press had already reached out to the team. If that were the case, they might've assumed our email was just a duplicate... and ignored it.

"Nancy," I said, "if we don't hear anything by Monday, let's go to their training base ourselves. Sound good?"

I only had one answer for her: "We're going."

Still, my eyelid wouldn't stop twitching.

That evening, Nataly had dressed up to attend a party hosted by Henry's roommate. She asked if I wanted to go too.

Nataly was studying fashion design, and most of her friends were either rich kids or eccentric geniuses. With both her and her boyfriend being party lovers, there was a different party every week.

This one was in someone's apartment and mostly for the international student crowd. Since I was supposedly on the hunt for a boyfriend, tonight could've been the perfect opportunity.

"Henry said this super-hot rich guy is coming," she teased, adjusting the strap of her quilted leather purse. "He also told me I'm not allowed to fall for anyone else—ha! If you're coming, I'll have him introduce you~"

I hesitated for a second, then told her that I was close to cracking that graphic sequence I'd been working on for days.

"Oh. Really."

Nataly leaned against the doorframe, heels clicking softly on the floor. Her expression was the same one I saw Tuesday night.

"So if you solve the puzzle, your precious association's gonna reward you with a Prince Charming or something?"

I knew her tone wasn't meant to be mean—she genuinely didn't get it.

Why would anyone lock themselves in their room at eighteen, the prime of their youth, when they could be out falling in love?

Besides, who hasn't been burned by a jerk at some point? If you swear off romance forever just because of one loser, aren't you the one who ends up losing?

I sighed. "Nataly, it's called the Graphic Pattern Association."

She gave me that familiar why are you like this look, full of exasperation. But then, like a balloon deflating all at once, the fight drained out of her.

She was pretending not to be mad. But I could see it. She wasn't over it.

I joined the association last September. It was founded over a decade ago by three students obsessed with solving visual codes, especially the kind left behind in criminal investigations.

The club started off as a hangout group, but more and more students joined over the years. Eventually it became official—and they even hosted competitions.

For me, it was simple—solving patterns helped me decompress. The harder the puzzle, the more frustrating it was, and the better it felt when I finally cracked it. Nataly always teased me for calling that "stress relief." She thought I was just making life harder for myself.

I was just about to have a breakthrough on that sequence when my phone rang, startling me.

Caller ID: Ruby.

My stepbrother.

I didn't need to guess—he was in trouble again.

He only came home during school breaks, and we were never particularly close. But to be honest, I didn't mind it that way. Ruby had always been scared of me.

He talked tough, but whenever I really got mad, he shut up instantly. I couldn't tell if that made me the scary one, or if it just meant he was spineless. Either way, my stepfather had always treated me kindly, and since I came to the States, I'd tried to look out for Ruby as best I could.

But the kid was spoiled rotten. Totally unmanageable.

I stared at the screen flashing his name and sighed.

Great. So this was what my twitching eye had been warning me about.

"Frank! You've gotta come—now! Help me!"

There was wind and voices in the background. He sounded like he was calling from a busy street.

"Say that again?"

"For f**k's sake, don't make me repeat myself! I'm seriously losing it!"

That tone. I was instantly furious. "Ruby, watch it. I've helped you enough already. Don't act like I owe you anything."

Typical Ruby—bold when you're soft, meek when you're not. The second he heard my cold tone, he backed off.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please, just come!"

I grabbed my jacket. "Where are you? What happened?"

"I was trying to go to this party with some friends, and the security won't let me in."

"A party? You—ugh, never mind." I was about to scold him again, but he cut me off.

"It's not a club or anything! Just some dude's house. I didn't want to call you, but the host goes to your school. I thought maybe you could... pull some strings?"

I sighed again. I was already tired.

"Who is it?"

"Some guy named William. William Hank."

My heart dropped.

"I don't know him. I can't help you."

"Don't say that! We're right outside his villa. The address is—"

Suddenly I heard a yelp.

"Sh*t, my phone's dying—"

The call cut off.

I stared at my screen, breath caught in my throat.

Of all people. Why did it have to be William's party?

I silently prayed Ruby hadn't caused any serious trouble. If he had... no one could save him—not even me.

It took me twenty minutes to get there. And the whole time, I had only one thought:

Please, please don't let Ruby get beaten to a pulp.

Because if he did, how would I even recognize him?

Actually, that thought made me laugh.

William's parties were always wild. If Ruby did get punched into a swollen mess, at least he'd be easier to spot. He kind of deserved it anyway.

But deep down, I knew he wasn't that bad.

The villa had tight security. I got stopped at the first checkpoint.

Ruby wasn't at the gate. Either he'd given up and left, or he'd managed to sneak in.

I didn't dare ask the guards—too risky. So I decided to go in myself.

I had my student ID. The guard double-checked it, looked me up and down—probably wondering why someone dressed in jeans and a thick coat was going to that kind of party—but finally waved me through.

The villa was surrounded by a huge garden. Spring had just begun, so there wasn't much to look at, and I wasn't in the mood to admire flowers anyway.

I ran up to the main entrance. The music blasting from inside was deafening.

Just before I rang the bell, William's name flashed through my mind again.

Was I really about to throw myself into this mess... for Ruby?

I hesitated. Took a breath. Pressed the doorbell.

No one answered.

I rang again. Called out. Still nothing.

Then—movement.

Someone stepped out from the shadows by the side of the house, drawn by the sound.

By some twist of fate, it was William himself.

And just my luck—he saw me.

I froze.

What were the chances that the host himself would be outside alone?

He should've been inside, mingling. But there he was, standing in the dark, cigarette between his fingers.

William wore a fitted white sweater, his broad shoulders hard to look away from. The ember of his cigarette glowed red in the night. His features looked like they were carved out of marble—sharp, stunning.

But unlike a statue, he was alive. Warm. Radiating something dangerous and magnetic.

Those strong arms, solid chest—not stiff, not cold. The kind you wanted to fall into.

And those deep gray eyes... deadlier than wine.

All it took was one glance and you'd get pulled under.

He was less than ten meters away, and he was staring straight at me.

This was it. The perfect chance. Just me and the most popular guy on campus.

I could walk up and say, "Hi."

But—God knows what Ruby had gotten himself into.

I didn't trust him. But I did trust his ability to get into trouble.

Until I was sure he was safe, I couldn't afford to let William remember me.

He was still looking at me, not saying anything. Maybe he thought I was just another friend of one of the guys on the team.

Good.

Let's keep it that way.