#final chapter!!!

The barista called her name but she didn’t hear it right away, too busy watching the muted TV above the counter. Another news anchor. Another familiar face on screen. “Police have now confirmed the death of Richard Shultz, who was killed in the Ghostface attacks. Sources say the elder Shultz, a prominent attorney and donor to the university, was found dead tossed and shot outside his apartment building. No suspects have been identified.”

Y/N blinked once, twice. Her fingers curled tighter around the paper cup, the heat bleeding into her palm like static. The reporter kept talking, words spilling out like a crime scene recap but she wasn’t listening anymore. Her thoughts weren’t on the screen, they were on the two boys she couldn’t stop thinking about. Yunho. Mingi. They hadn’t said it. Not in words. But the signs were everywhere now, written in the gaps between confessions, in the heat of their touches, in the violent hunger she’d seen behind Yunho’s eyes. Mingi wasn’t even hiding it anymore, not really. And if they weren’t hiding it, maybe they didn’t care who knew.

But then…. there was a third mask. Her stomach churned as she took a slow sip of her coffee. The bitter liquid coated her tongue like smoke. And yet, she didn’t leave. She stayed planted in that café, watching the screen, the door, the people around her, all while wondering if any of them had blood under their nails. She finished the coffee, got a refill and sat only a moment longer before getting up to leave.

The bell above the door jingled as Y/N stepped out of the café, the cold air rushing to meet her like a slap. Her fingers tightened around her coffee cup, the familiar hiss of espresso machines fading behind her as she pulled her hoodie sleeves over her hands and started down the sidewalk. She only made it a few steps before someone called her name. “Y/N.”

She turned and nearly dropped her drink. Seonghwa stood a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his dark coat. Behind him, Hongjoong leaned against a parked car, arms crossed, brows knit in something that looked a little too serious for Halloween morning. “Hey,” she said, heart skipping for reasons she didn’t like. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We were just grabbing breakfast,” Seonghwa said smoothly. His tone was light, casual, but the way his eyes flicked over her said otherwise. “Didn’t expect to run into you.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/N shrugged. “Gotta have coffee or I’ll kill someone.” Hongjoong didn’t laugh. “Are you planning to stay in tonight?” he asked instead, straight to the point. “With everything that’s been happening… seems smarter.” Y/N blinked, then glanced between the two of them. “I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.”

“Think about it,” Seonghwa said, taking a step closer. His voice was lower now, more cautious. “Halloween makes people crazy. You remember what happened last year.” Of course she did. Everyone did. “Do you guys need something?” she asked, a touch sharper than she meant. “Because I feel like you’re circling something instead of just saying it.” Hongjoong didn’t move from the car. But his jaw tightened. “Have you seen Yunho or Mingi today?” There it was. Y/N exhaled slowly. “No. Why?”

“You haven’t been with them?” Seonghwa pressed, his gaze narrowing slightly. “No,” she lied, keeping her face neutral. Silence stretched for a moment too long. Then Seonghwa spoke again, his voice gentler this time. “We’re just worried about you. That’s all. We don’t think it’s over. And the cops have questions about Yunho and Mingi, still. Especially now with Darren’s dad…”

“They didn’t do that,” she said before she could stop herself. Both men looked at her. Hard. “Why are you so sure?” Hongjoong asked and she paused. Swallowed. “I’m not. I just… I don’t think it was them.” Not this time. But she was still lying. Because she did think they’d done the others. She just didn’t know what the hell that meant anymore, or why part of her still wanted to be with them. Seonghwa studied her for another beat, then finally sighed. “Just… be careful tonight. Please.”

“I will,” she said but the chill in her bones said it might already be too late for careful.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The hallway was too quiet. Y/N’s boots clicked softly against the linoleum as she climbed the final flight of stairs to her floor, her coffee long gone and her thoughts racing too fast for caffeine to keep up. Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s words echoed in her ears, warnings and worry laced with suspicion. But that wasn’t what made her heart slam against her ribs as she rounded the corner toward her dorm room. It was them. Yunho and Mingi. Standing outside her door like ghosts wearing flesh.

Yunho leaned against the wall, arms crossed, black hoodie pulled up like a shadow cloaking half his face. Mingi was pacing, hoodie unzipped, hands shoved into his pockets, jaw tight with tension. They both looked up the moment they heard her steps and Y/N froze mid step. Neither of them said anything. Just stared for a moment before Y/N broke it, “What are you doing here?”

Mingi gave a crooked half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Waiting for you.”

“I can see that.”

“You didn’t answer your texts,” Yunho said. His voice was low and careful as he pushed off the wall, his gaze locked onto hers like he was searching for a storm behind her eyes. “We got worried.”

“Worried I’d gone to the cops?” she asked, folding her arms. Mingi winced, head tipping back with a groan. “Come on, Y/N…”

“I didn’t,” she added quickly. “But I did just talk to Seonghwa and Hongjoong. They’re asking questions. They know something’s off. They asked where you both were.” That made them both go still. Yunho glanced around the hallway, then leaned in, voice lower. “Can we go inside?”

She hesitated. Keys in her hand, fingers cold. “I don’t know,” she said. “Should I be letting murderers into my room?” Yunho didn’t flinch. Mingi did, visibly. “Y/N….”

“You haven’t told me anything,” she snapped, louder than she meant. “Not really. And you expect me to just… what? Keep lying for you?”

“You have been lying for us,” Yunho said softly. “So maybe part of you already knows why.” The silence that followed was electric until finally, she turned and shoved the key into the lock. “Get inside. Now.” The door slammed shut behind them. Yunho hovered by her desk like he’d been there a hundred times, like nothing was wrong. Mingi dropped onto the edge of her bed, rubbing a hand through his hair, eyes on her like he was bracing for impact.

Y/N tossed her keys onto the dresser and turned around slowly, arms crossed. “Are you going after Darren?” That hit harder than any accusation. Yunho’s gaze snapped to her. Mingi went completely still. “You think we would?”

“Just answer the question,” she said, voice sharp but not shaking. “Because if you are, I need to know. I need to prepare for what’s coming.” Yunho opened his mouth, then closed it again. It was Mingi who finally spoke. “He’s not clean, Y/N.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

Mingi looked up at her, eyes dark, jaw set. “We don’t know where he is. Not yet.”

“So you are planning on it.”

Yunho moved first, stepping closer. “You think we’re reckless?”

“No,” she admitted. “But you’re running out of time to be careful.” Her voice softened, the weight of everything finally cracking through her frustration. “They’re closing in. Hongjoong and Seonghwa are circling. There’s probably a task force by now. If you do anything else, if you touch Darren, you’re not walking away from this.”

Mingi scoffed under his breath and stood. “We already didn’t walk away. You think we get to have a normal ending after everything we’ve done?” Yunho didn’t say anything. He just kept staring at her like she was the last light left in a blackout city.

Y/N swallowed hard. “I’m not scared of you. That’s the worst part. I should be. But I’m not. I’m just scared of what you’ll lose.” Yunho stepped in closer. So close she could feel the heat of him. “We’re already losing it,” he said quietly, his eyes dropping to her lips. “Except for you.”He was close enough to touch. Mingi was behind him, eyes flicking between them, breathing shallow. The silence pulsed in the room like a second heartbeat.

Y/N stared at both of them. And they stared back, like they were waiting for her to break, to bolt, to scream. But she didn’t. She just whispered, “I know you love me.” Yunho’s breath hitched. Mingi blinked once, then again. “I’ve known,” she continued, voice shaking just a little. “Maybe not in the beginning, but somewhere between the late night phone calls and everything the two of you do for me, I figured it out.”

She looked at Yunho. Then Mingi. “I love you, too.” No one moved. Not even the air. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but she didn’t look away. “And that’s why I’m scared. Not of you. Not of what you’ve done.” Her voice cracked. “I’m scared you’re going to get caught. I’m scared I’ll lose you. Both of you.”

Mingi exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for days as Yunho reached for her, fingers trembling, but didn’t touch her yet, he waited, like her words were sacred, like she was as Y/N stepped closer. “Whatever happens next, I need you to be careful. I need you to live.”

“We didn’t expect this,” Mingi said softly behind Yunho. “We didn’t expect you.”

“And now you’re stuck with me,” she whispered. Finally, Yunho touched her, his hand cradling her cheek, thumb brushing a tear she hadn’t realized had fallen. “We never wanted to drag you into this,” he murmured. “Too late,” she breathed, leaning into him. “I walked in with both feet.” Then she turned slightly, reaching for Mingi, pulling him in too. And there they stood, dangerous, bruised, broken, and somehow, this was the safest she’d ever felt.

Y/N pulled back from the warm weight of their bodies, her voice quiet but not uncertain. “I need a shower.” The mood shifted, just slightly. Her thumb brushed Yunho’s arm before she turned away. “Shouldn’t take long,” she added, already grabbing her dorm key. Mingi’s brows lifted. “Shower, huh?” Yunho immediately shot him a warning look. “Don’t.” Mingi smirked. “Oh come on. I’m just saying, maybe we make it a group activity. You know… conserve water, bond before the murder.”

Y/N paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder. “You’re an idiot.” But she didn’t say no. Didn’t shut the door behind her. And both boys caught that unspoken invitation like a match being lit.

The dormitory halls were mostly empty, everyone out prepping for the massive Halloween party. The building was quiet, eerily so, and the coed showers? Practically deserted as Y/N padded barefoot across the chilled tile, slipping past the row of empty stalls until she reached the far corner. The old fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above her as she turned the knob, steam hissing instantly into the air. She pulled her clothes off and stepped under the spray, letting it run over her shoulders, eyes fluttering shut.

She opened her eyes to see Mingi’s reflection in the cracked mirror just outside the stall. Yunho followed behind him, towel slung over his shoulder, expression unreadable, but his eyes… his eyes were already locked on her silhouette through the fogged plastic curtain.

Mingi’s shirt hit the bench with a soft thud. Yunho’s followed. Y/N turned slowly, water trailing down her spine. “You’re seriously doing this?” Mingi pulled the curtain aside just enough to grin at her. “Only if you let us.” She held his gaze, chest rising and falling with every breath. Then she backed up beneath the water, nodding once. “Then what the hell are you waiting for?”

Mingi stepped in, his body was hot against hers, despite the water. He didn’t touch her at first, just stood close enough for the heat to build, the tension to stretch between them like elastic. Then a larger hand reached past both of them and drew the curtain closed again. Yunho. He was quieter. Slower. His eyes didn’t tease, they devoured. He stepped in behind her, not touching yet either, but close. She could feel him everywhere, heat against her spine, his breath near her ear.

“This is a terrible idea,” Y/N whispered, lips curving despite herself. Mingi leaned in. “Say the word and we’ll stop.” She glanced between them, cheeks flushed from more than just the water. “I don’t want you to stop.”

Yunho’s hands were the first to touch her, fingertips ghosting down her arms, slow and reverent. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder as his hands slid forward, palms against her ribs, thumbs brushing the curve of her breasts but not yet taking. Behind her, she felt Mingi’s chest press against her back, lips brushing the side of her neck. “You’re shaking,” Mingi murmured. Y/N laughed softly. “I’m outnumbered again.”

“Outloved,” Yunho corrected gently, his hands finally cupping her chest, dragging a gasp from her lips. Mingi’s hands slid around her waist, down, gripping her hips like he was holding himself back. “You sure about this?” he asked, voice surprisingly serious, breath hot against her ear. Y/N turned her head, eyes meeting his. “I’m yours,” she whispered. “Both of yours.”

Mingi’s lips brushed down her spine like he was tracing scripture, hands spreading over her hips, anchoring her in place as the water poured over all three of them. Yunho didn’t stop touching her either, his thumbs grazing her nipples now, firm and slow, pulling soft gasps from her mouth. She arched into him, back pressed to his chest, her head tipping to rest against his shoulder. He kissed the curve of her jaw like he needed it, like he’d starve without the taste of her skin. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, barely audible over the rush of water, fingers tweaking gently now, then soothing. “You don’t even know.”

Mingi dropped to his knees behind her, the sound almost lost in the steam. But she felt it, the sudden absence of pressure behind her, the shift in heat, and then his hands were parting her thighs, thumbs stroking the inside of them. Y/N’s hand reached behind her, fingers sliding into Mingi’s damp hair. She tugged, just enough to make him groan.

He didn’t waste a second. The first flick of his tongue against her already sensitive center made her whole body shudder, a strangled sound catching in her throat. Yunho held her tighter, one arm wrapped around her torso now, the other hand still teasing, soothing, worshiping as Mingi was devouring her like she was his last meal.

She let out a sound that might’ve been a sob, her knees wobbling as Mingi moaned into her, the vibrations making her eyes roll back. Yunho’s hand slid down, joining Mingi’s mouth, fingers stroking over where Mingi wasn’t yet licking, adding just enough pressure to make her hips jerk. “I can’t….” she breathed. “You can,” Yunho murmured against her ear, voice thick. “You’re doing so good for us. Let go, baby.”

Mingi’s grip tightened on her thighs and he doubled down, tongue dragging slow, wet circles over her clit, then sucking and she broke. With a cry muffled by Yunho’s mouth capturing hers, she came hard, trembling between them, water washing over her while they held her steady, their touches softening but never leaving. Yunho pulled back just enough to whisper, “That’s one.”

Mingi stood, mouth wet, eyes dark and blown wide with something deeper than lust. He kissed her like he needed her to know it wasn’t just sex as Yunho lifted her like it was nothing. Hands under her thighs, back pressing her against the cool tile as the steam swirled around them, he kissed her slow, messy and deep, while Mingi’s hands smoothed over her back, down to the curve of her ass. She felt them everywhere. Every breath. Every heartbeat. They didn’t just touch her, they claimed her.

Her arms wrapped around Yunho’s shoulders as he lined himself up, the stretch of him making her head fall back with a gasp against the shower wall. “Fuck, Yunho…”

“I know, baby,” he breathed, burying his face in her neck, the sound of water crashing around them. “You feel so good…. always so good…” Mingi moved behind her, his hands helping lift her slightly, taking pressure off her thighs. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, voice husky, reverent. “Or if you want more.”

She didn’t have to answer with words, just the way her hips rocked, the way she looked over her shoulder at him, wrecked and wanting. Mingi kissed between her shoulder blades. “That’s my girl.” He pressed against her, slow and careful at first, and Yunho held her tighter, eyes locked on hers, watching every flicker of expression cross her face. Their bodies shifted to accommodate each other, every move deliberate, worshipful. This wasn’t chaos. It was ritual.

When Mingi finally sank into her from behind, she broke again, her mouth open in a silent moan, fingers clawing at Yunho’s wet back as he swallowed every sound she made. “Holy fuck,” Mingi groaned into her shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.” Her legs were shaking again, tears stinging her eyes, not from pain, but from how full she felt, how deeply they were inside her, how safe and filthy and wanted she was. Her head dropped forward onto Yunho’s shoulder as he started thrusting again, timed with Mingi now, slow and deep, rolling into her so deliberately it felt like she was going to lose her mind.

“Taking both of us like this,” Yunho whispered into her ear. “So good, so perfect. Our girl.”

“Our girl,” Mingi echoed, voice cracked open and raw.

They moved in rhythm, one pulling back as the other pushed forward, perfect coordination, perfect control. Her body jolted with each thrust, the shower wall slick against her spine, her hands braced now against both of them as her orgasm crept back up fast, no warning. “I….. I’m gonna…”

“Let go,” Yunho breathed, kissing her hard. “We’ve got you,” Mingi promised, one hand slipping down to rub her clit in slow circles. “Come for us, baby.” She shattered. Everything went white, stars behind her eyes, a scream caught in her throat, her body seizing with pleasure between them as they held her through it, murmuring praise against her skin, kissing her cheeks, her shoulders, her lips, her back.

They didn’t let go. Not even when they were coming too, Yunho gasping her name, Mingi biting down softly on her shoulder as they both fell apart.

And still, they didn’t let go.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The sun was bleeding out over the city skyline, casting long, golden fingers through the tall windows of the dormitory’s common room. It bathed everything in soft amber, the couches, the scratched up tables, the small shelf of board games no one ever touched, and the tired-looking coffee machine still sputtering life into overused paper cups.

Y/N stood in front of it, cradling her mug as the machine rumbled. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and her limbs carried the ache of earlier, her body flushed with a bruised kind of warmth, but her mind? Spinning. Yunho and Mingi were gone. Said they had errands, but didn’t elaborate. She hadn’t asked. She didn’t need to. She knew what they were getting ready for.

“Hey.”

Jongho stood beside her now, quiet as ever, like he’d just materialized. His hoodie was black, zipped up halfway, his expression calm but lined with worry. “You okay?” he asked gently, watching her with those deep, unreadable eyes. She nodded slowly, unsure what her face was doing. “Yeah. I mean… not really. Just trying to stay sane.”

Jongho didn’t speak for a moment. The coffee machine beeped, finished, and she pulled her cup away, lifting it to blow the steam. He leaned against the counter next to her, folding his arms. “You staying in tonight?” She glanced at him, wary. “Why? Planning to go to another party?”

A flicker of a smile touched his lips. “God, no. Not after last time.“ He didn’t have to elaborate. Cassie. Y/N cracked a small laugh before looking away, her voice quieter. “I don’t think I’m going out.”

“Smart.” He nodded. “Everyone’s losing their minds for the Halloween party. Cops are everywhere. Feels like a curfew’s about to hit.” There was a beat of silence between them. Then he asked, soft, probing, “You seen Yunho and Mingi today?” Her eyes lifted to his. “Yeah,” she said carefully. “They stopped by earlier.”

Jongho nodded, slow like he was thinking. “They okay?” She tilted her head, studying him. “Why are you asking?” He met her gaze head on. Calm. Too calm. “Just wondering if you’ve seen any of the signs. You know… weird behavior. Nervousness. Anger.”

Her chest tensed, grip tightening around her coffee again. “Why would you think they’re angry?” Jongho shrugged lightly. “People act weird when they’re cornered.” Her stomach dropped. But she didn’t show it. Just gave a little, forced laugh and sipped her drink. “I guess you’d know a lot about that,” she said, tone teasing, testing? Jongho smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe,” he said.

Y/N forced a smile, trying to push away the unease knotting in her stomach. “Think I’m just gonna stay in tonight,” she said, glancing out the tall window where the sun was bleeding into dusk. “Watch something dumb. Maybe something with zero murder for once.” Jongho chuckled, low and easy. “Bold choice for Halloween.”

“Yeah, well…” She took another sip of her coffee. “My life’s scary enough already.” He leaned his elbow on the counter, nodding thoughtfully. “Sounds like a solid plan, though. You deserve a night off.” Something about the way he said it felt strange. Not threatening, not even suspicious, just… rehearsed. Too calm. But maybe she was just overanalyzing. She’d been doing a lot of that lately.

Jongho stood up straight, slipping his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “I might swing by later,” he said casually. “After I grab something to eat.” Y/N blinked. “Oh… yeah. Sure.” He smiled again, small, polite, just the right amount of warm. “Cool. See you later, then.”

And with that, he turned and walked off down the hall, quiet and steady. Y/N watched him go, her fingers tightening around the cup as her reflection stared back at her in the darkening window. Something wasn’t right. She just didn’t know what yet.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Jongho shut the door to his dorm room with a quiet click. The second it latched, he dropped the smile. “I told her I’d stop by later,” he said flatly.

Across the room, Yunho was tugging on the bottom half of his Ghostface suit, already zipped up to his waist. He didn’t look up as he adjusted his gloves. “And?”

“She bought it.” Jongho crossed to his bed, pulled off his hoodie, and reached for the duffel bag he kept hidden under the mattress. “Still doesn’t suspect me at all.”

In the corner, Mingi was tying his boots, long fingers lacing tight and fast. His voice was calmer than usual, focused. “The detectives are still watching our apartment. I saw one of them parked across the street when we left.”

“That’s why we’re doing it here,” Yunho muttered, yanking the zipper the rest of the way up. “One more night. One more clean sweep. And then we’re done.” Mingi stood and stepped into his robe like coat, the one he always wore over the Ghostface suit until it was go time. “Unless someone screws it up.”

Jongho shot him a look. “I haven’t yet.”

“Didn’t say you had,” Mingi replied coolly, grabbing the white mask from the dresser. The room smelled like latex, metal, and adrenaline. Yunho slipped on his own mask, holding it in place with one hand while he fixed the strap behind his head with the other.

His voice came low through the warped plastic. “Tonight’s the finale. Darren dies. And then we’re done.”

Jongho looked between them, his eyes sharp. “And Y/N?” Yunho hesitated. Just for a second. But it was there. “She stays out of it,” he said finally. “We made a promise.”

Mingi didn’t answer right away. He just stared at the mask in his hand like it had something to say. Then he slipped it on. And the silence was answer enough.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Y/N zipped up her hoodie as she was getting ready to step out her dorm. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, and the dorms were alive with motion, students laughing, music thumping faintly in the distance, costumed bodies flooding the quad.

She wasn’t even sure where she was going, just that she needed food and maybe a second to breathe. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out and her blood cooled a little. Darren. “Hello?”

“Hey,” his voice came, light, casual, too casual. “You busy?” Her steps slowed. “Uh… kinda. I was just about to grab something to eat…”

“You should come to the quad.”

She frowned, shifting her weight. “Darren…”

“Just to talk,” he added quickly. “No bullshit. No weirdness. Just you and me. In public. You’ll be safe. I figured with everyone out and about, it’d be neutral ground.”

“You want to talk… here?” she asked, eyebrows raised. “In the middle of all that?” He laughed. “Exactly. I figured it was the only place where you wouldn’t think I’d try something stupid.”

Y/N bit her lip, hesitating. Something about this felt off, but honestly? Everything felt off lately. And maybe if she met him, got whatever this was out of the way, she could finally breathe again. “Fine,” she said. “Five minutes. That’s it.”

“Deal,” Darren said smoothly. “I’ll be by the big oak. You can’t miss me.” He hung up before she could say anything else.

The hallways of the dorm were still quieter than usual, most students already out celebrating or getting their last minute costumes together. The buzz of the Halloween party in the quad echoed faintly through the windows as Y/N slipped out her dorm, trying not to think about Darren’s voice still rattling around in her head.

As she headed down the hallway and passed the common room, she slowed slightly. Inside, one of the upperclassmen, Brandon? Brian? Something with a B, was standing at the little kitchenette counter, lazily stacking meat onto a slice of bread. He didn’t acknowledge her as she walked by, earbuds in, head nodding along to whatever he was listening to.

Her eyes drifted to the knife in his hand, long, silver, slightly dull but still sharp enough to slice through tomato and ham with ease. She stopped. He didn’t notice as he slapped the sandwich together with the kind of chaotic energy only a college student possessed, tossed the knife into the tiny dorm sink with a clatter, and shuffled off with a grunt, plate in hand.

The door clicked behind him and Y/N glanced around. No one else. She stepped into the kitchenette. The knife sat on top of a pile of dishes, still wet with tomato juice, a single shred of lettuce stuck to the blade. She grabbed a paper towel, wrapped it around the handle, and without thinking too hard, tucked it into the inner pocket of her coat. It wasn’t exactly self defense class 101, but if Darren, or anyone, tried anything tonight? She wasn’t going down without a fight.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The quad was buzzing with life. Laughter rippled through the crowd as someone let off a handful of fake blood filled balloons, splattering red across a group of unsuspecting students dressed as cheerleaders and zombies. A guy in a cape passed by yelling “It’s giving Dracula!” and a speaker crackled out a remix of “Thriller” like it was the anthem of the night.

Y/N ignored all of it. Her eyes were locked on Darren, who stood just beyond the reach of the string lights under the oak trees, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. She moved closer, slowly. One hand still around the knife hidden in her coat pocket. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t speak until she was just a few feet away. “I need you to take me to the airport,” he said, voice sharp and low.

Y/N blinked, stunned. “What?” She shook her head, taking a small step back. “Are you serious right now? After everything you’ve done? No. Absolutely not.”

“Y/N.” His voice dropped, warning dark. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Oh, go to hell.” She turned like she was about to walk away, but then froze. She felt it before she saw it. The sound of fabric shifting, the chill that ran down her spine just a split second before she saw him pull the gun from the inside of his hoodie and aim it directly at her. “I said now.”

Her mouth went dry. Her grip tightened around the knife in her pocket, but she didn’t move. Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, there were people, still close enough. Laughing. Dancing. Drinking. No one looking this way. “You’re insane,” she whispered.

“You think I don’t know what’s going on? You think I don’t know who your boyfriends are? What they’ve done?” His eyes glinted. She swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. “You’re gonna shoot me? In front of a hundred people?” Darren smiled now, cold and terrifying. “Not if you walk with me. Nice and quiet.”

Y/N clenched her jaw, the cool edge of the stolen knife still hidden in her coat pocket as Darren moved in behind her. The muzzle of the gun pressed into her lower back, subtle enough not to draw attention but clear in its message: Move. So she did.

They pushed through the crowd, music thumping around them. Someone dressed as Chucky bumped her shoulder and muttered a drunken apology. A girl in a vampire costume posed for a photo, her plastic fangs flashing white as her boyfriend held her waist. The scent of weed and candy apples drifted through the air. It was Halloween, and no one noticed the real danger right in their midst.

Y/N’s eyes swept the crowd, looking for anything, an opening, a face, a miracle. And then she saw it. Just ahead. Between two dorm banners strung up with faux cobwebs, stood a figure in a Ghostface mask. Motionless. Watching.

Her heart dropped into her stomach as she kept walking, breath shallow, but her fingers twitched at her side. Darren noticed it too. “What the fuck,” he muttered. Then another one stepped out of the crowd, closer now, slipping between a group of students dressed like skeletons. Then a third. All of them Ghostface. All of them walking slowly, deliberately, toward them.

Darren stopped short, breath catching in his throat. “Why is there three of them?” Y/N turned her head just enough to look at him, her voice flat. “That’s a good question.” The first Ghostface tilted its head. The second one raised a gloved hand, dragging a thumb across the blade it carried.

The third was the closest now, moving with calm, terrifying precision, like a predator that had already decided how this would end. The music swelled around them, something electronic and twisted, bass vibrating through the ground, and yet the space between them and the masks felt eerily silent.

Darren’s hand twitched against her back and Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the one with the gun. Do something.” He was sweating now. “They’re bluffing. It’s some prank.”

The second Ghostface reached into their cloak, slowly pulling something out. Not a knife. A phone. It lit up in their hand, the screen glowing bright red. And then it started to ring. The sound echoed in her bones. Darren’s panic tipped fully into fear. “No. No, no…. this isn’t happening.”

The phone kept ringing. Not from Y/N’s pocket. Not from Darren’s. It was the second Ghostface’s phone, the one standing just to the right of the dorm archway now, holding it up like it was a casual call from a friend. Then it stopped.

Darren’s own phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He fumbled it out with one hand, keeping the gun pressed to Y/N’s back with the other. He looked at the screen. No caller ID. He hesitated. “Answer it,” Y/N said coldly.

“Hello?”

A low chuckle crackled over the speaker. “Do you really think you can hide behind her?” the voice asked. Calm. Unhurried. Male. But unfamiliar enough not to place. Darren’s eyes scanned the Ghostface masks again, all three still closing in, slow and steady through the crowd, the second one holding the phone. His grip on the gun faltered for half a second. “You come near us, I swear to god I’ll shoot her!”

Y/N didn’t flinch. Not even a blink as the voice sighed. “You won’t.” Darren barked, “Try me!” The third Ghostface, taller than the others, paused and tilted his head slightly. His hand flexed around the blade, relaxed, almost amused as the voice kept going, smooth and chilling. “You think they care if she gets caught in the crossfire? You really think that’s going to stop me? You hurt her. You ran your mouth. You tried to throw her under the bus. That’s your play?”

Darren’s lip curled. “She’s still breathing, isn’t she? And if you come any closer, she won’t be.” Y/N, calm as the moon, spoke for the first time in minutes. “Then pull the fucking trigger, Darren.” He stiffened as she turned her head slightly, just enough to glare at him over her shoulder. “Or are you too much of a coward to go through with it now that your dick isn’t in control?”

The voice on the phone laughed. Loud. Unhinged. Like it knew her. “God, I really like her,” the caller said. “We should keep her.” Darren hung up so fast it was like the phone burned him. He grabbed Y/N’s arm hard, shoving the gun deeper into her back. “Move,” he hissed. She didn’t fight, she knew better than to startle a man this unstable. She kept her steps steady as he dragged her across the quad, weaving them through laughing students who had no idea a gun was pressed into her spine.

They moved past the costume contest, past the DJ booth blasting “Heads Will Roll,” past the sea of oblivious bodies, and toward the dim basketball gym at the edge of campus. The second they reached the door, Darren shoved her inside with a grunt, kicking it shut behind them. The echo thundered across the darkened court, the overhead lights half off, the place empty except for stacked chairs and folded bleachers.

Y/N stumbled forward, caught herself, then turned slowly to face him as Darren locked the door. His face twisted, sweat slicking his hairline, eyes wild. “This is your fault.” She stared at him. “My fault?”

“You told them,” he snapped, stepping closer. The gun rose with him. “You told them to come after me.” She blinked once, slow. “Darren, I haven’t talked to Yunho or Mingi about anything…”

“Oh, shut up.” He jabbed the gun toward her chest. “Those psychos have been circling me for weeks. You expect me to believe you didn’t know?” She kept her breathing even. Calm. Controlled. “So now what? You’re going to kill me too?”

“No,” he spat. “You’re leverage. They want me dead? Fine. They’re going to watch you die first.”

She didn’t flinch, even though her heart thudded hard against her ribs. “You’re blaming the wrong people,” she said softly.

Darren laughed, sharp and ugly. “Right. Because there’s a third one now. And you don’t know anything about that either?”

The gym door creaked open making both of them jump a little as two figures stepped in. Ghostface masks gleaming under the dim emergency lighting, black robes dragging silently across the scuffed floor. One taller, one broader, both unmistakably dangerous.

Darren froze.

Y/N could feel the sudden spike of panic radiating off him like heat. He pulled her tighter, the cold press of the gun digging into her ribs now as he raised his voice, raw and panicked. “Stay back!” he shouted. “I’ll shoot her. I swear to fucking god, back the fuck off!”

The two Ghostfaces halted. Right at the edge of the court, feet shoulder width apart, masks tilted just slightly, like they were taking him in. Studying him. And then… one of them slowly lifted a gloved hand and pointed. Right at Darren and Y/N’s breath caught. Darren’s did too. “What…. what the fuck does that mean?” Darren snapped, shifting behind Y/N more. “You think I’m bluffing?! You think I won’t shoot her right here?!”

The Ghostface with the broader build took one step forward and Darren flinched so hard the barrel wobbled against Y/N’s side. “Back off!” he screamed again. “I said I’ll kill her!”

The taller Ghostface raised both hands, palms out, slow… like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. Y/N could feel Darren’s heart racing behind her. She kept her hands visible, fingers twitching with the urge to reach for the knife hidden inside her jacket.

The taller Ghostface took one step to the left. The broader one mirrored it to the right. Flanking him and Darren’s breathing grew erratic. “This isn’t how this goes,” he muttered. “You’re supposed to run. You’re supposed to run when someone has a fucking gun!”

The Ghostfaces didn’t run. They didn’t even flinch. They just started closing in again, measured, confident, like they had all the time in the world. Y/N’s eyes flicked toward the back of the gym. That door. If she could just get Darren to turn…

Another phone rang. A sharp vibration from Darren’s hoodie pocket. The sound made him jerk again, gun dipping, nearly grazing her hip. He fumbled for it, still trying to keep Y/N between him and the masked killers. With one hand still tight on the gun, he answered. “What?” he snapped.

The voice on the other end was cold. Amused. “You really think you’re the main character, Darren?” Y/N’s heart jumped. That voice was distorted. Ghostface. The third one. “Do you really think you can hide behind her?” the voice continued, low and dangerous. “She’s not your shield. She’s the only reason you’re still breathing.”

Darren’s hand trembled, and he snapped back, “If any of you come closer, I’ll shoot her!” There was a pause. Then the voice said, “Try it.” And the line went dead.

Darren’s fingers dug into Y/N’s arm. “Move,” he barked, dragging her toward the old bleachers on the side of the gym. The metal stairs clanged under their steps, echoing with every hurried stomp. His grip was iron tight, the gun now half lowered but still pointed in her direction. Y/N didn’t fight him, not yet. Not while the Ghostfaces were still below.

From the opposite end of the gym, the two masked killers were already moving. Silent. Steady. Not running. Just climbing, one step at a time, like they were stalking, not chasing. Darren looked over his shoulder and cursed. “Fucking psychos.”

The air grew thick with every step. The bleachers creaked under their weight as Darren hauled her up to the top row, the farthest point from the gym floor, nearly eye level with the old metal rafters. Y/N glanced down, saw the Ghostfaces splitting up again. One taking the left side of the bleachers. The other, broader, heavier steps, on the right.

Darren kept pulling her, gun still clutched, hand trembling now. “I’ll fucking shoot them,” he hissed. “I will. I’ll take one of them out and then you…” He stopped talking. Because one of the Ghostfaces was now standing at the bottom of the bleachers, halfway up, staring straight at them. The other just two rows down and to their left. Cornered. Y/N’s breath hitched.

The metal bleachers groaned under the shifting weight as Darren hauled Y/N closer to the back railing, his breath coming in ragged, panicked bursts. Below them, the gym echoed with the soft thunk… thunk… thunk of boots on metal.

The first Ghostface reached the midpoint of the bleachers. The second, larger one stalked up the opposite side, steps slow, deliberate, almost taunting. And then, the third shape appeared at the gym doors. The third Ghostface stepped inside, closing the doors behind him with a quiet click that somehow echoed louder than the music outside. He didn’t rush. Didn’t run. Just tilted his head with that eerie stillness that made the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck rise.

The Ghostfaces fanned out. One at the bottom center.

One halfway up the right.

The third blocking the exit entirely. But none of them came too close. None of them tried to risk it. That gun in Darren’s hand was still jammed against Y/N’s skull hard enough to bruise.

Y/N winced, teeth gritting as Darren pressed the barrel harder against her temple like he was trying to fuse it through bone. “Back off!” he shouted, voice cracking with fear. “I swear to God I’ll kill her! I told you!” The Ghostfaces all stopped moving. Perfect stillness. Only the soft buzz of the gym lights and the muffled bass from the quad outside cut through the silence.

Darren swallowed, eyes darting between them, sweat dripping down his jaw. His hand shook. His voice didn’t. “Off!” he screamed, voice cracking. “The masks…. now!” The three Ghostfaces didn’t move. Not yet. Just three black hoods, three white, expressionless masks… watching him as if waiting for something.

Y/N felt Darren’s grip falter for a fraction of a heartbeat. Just long enough to feel him start to unravel. The gun dug into her head even harder. “I SAID TAKE THEM OFF!”

The Ghostface at the bottom of the bleachers… slowly lifted a hand. And reached for the mask. Pausing. Teasing. Inches of skin. A jawline. Full lips. That sharp, unmistakable nose. Yunho. His face was calm, lips parted just slightly, like he’d been waiting for this moment all night. His eyes met hers, not Darren’s, not the gun, but hers.

Y/N barely had time to react before the second Ghostface followed suit, yanking his mask off in one quick, almost annoyed motion. Mingi. He looked wild. Hair disheveled. Eyes dark and furious. There was no apology in his face. No regret. Just a quiet fury simmering beneath his skin like it had been building for months.

Darren’s breath stuttered. “You…” he choked. “You sick…. I fucking knew it!”

Yunho didn’t blink. “Let her go.”

“Fuck you! You think I don’t know this was all you?” Darren snapped, dragging Y/N even higher up the bleachers like she was some kind of human shield. “She’s probably in on it too!”

Mingi took one step forward. “She’s not.”

“She is if she’s protecting you!”

“She’s not!” Yunho snapped, voice cracking across the gym like thunder. The sharpness in his tone made even the third Ghostface twitch from across the floor. Y/N’s heart thundered in her chest. She knew it. She knew it, but seeing their faces now, all of it laid bare… it didn’t make it any less intense.

She looked at Yunho again, her lips parting like she wanted to say something, anything, but her mind was spinning too fast to catch up. That’s when the third Ghostface started walking. Slowly. Steadily. Still masked. Yunho and Mingi turned their heads just slightly and Darren noticed too, panicking all over again. “NO…. NO! No more games! You… take that shit off too!” he shouted, waving the gun in the third killer’s direction and Y/N’s chest heaved.

The third Ghostface stopped climbing. Stopped moving entirely. That eerie stillness washed over the gym again, bleeding into the space between every heartbeat. Darren’s breaths turned sharp and uneven. “Take it off. TAKE IT OFF!”

The third Ghostface tilted his head once… then slowly lifted both hands. Y/N’s pulse roared in her ears. Her fingers tightened around Darren’s forearm. And the mask came off. Black hood first. Then white plastic sliding up…. Revealing dark hair damp with sweat…. A sharp jaw…. Wide brown eyes she knew better than her own…. And a quiet, unreadable smile.

Jongho.

Y/N froze.

Darren froze.

The entire gym seemed to stop breathing as Jongho held the mask at his side, expression soft… almost gentle… as if he’d just taken off a Halloween costume at a dorm party.

“W… What…?” Darren stammered, voice barely above a whisper. “Jongho?”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she couldn’t speak, her stomach dropped like all the air had been stolen from the room. The friend she trusted. The one who held her that night at the bottom of the stairs. The one who always said he’d protect her. He just stared back at her with that small, unsettling smile.

“Why… why the fuck are you here?” Darren demanded, voice breaking. “What….. what is this?!”

Jongho’s eyes flicked to Yunho and Mingi, calm recognition, then back to Darren who lifted the gun higher, pressing it so hard to Y/N’s head she winced. “Okay… okay,” Darren rasped. “Fine. Great. Three psychos. Perfect.” His voice cracked into hysteria. “So tell me…. SOMEONE TELL ME…” He pointed the gun straight at Jongho. “WHICH ONE OF YOU ASSHOLES KILLED MY DAD?!”

The gym went silent. Yunho’s jaw clenched. Mingi’s fingers twitched at his sides, eyes burning with hatred. But Jongho… his expression didn’t falter. He just lifted his chin slightly, the shimmering gym lights catching the edge of his smile. Then he grinned. Slow. Wicked. Relieved. “Me.”

BANG.

The deafening crack of the gunshot rang out through the empty gym. Jongho jerked backward with the impact, stumbling a step as the bullet tore through his shoulder. His mask hit the floor with a dull clack, rolling once before settling near the bleachers. He caught himself with a grunt, one hand instinctively going to the fresh wound, blood already seeping through his fingers.

“JONGHO!” Y/N cried out, twisting in Darren’s grip, but he yanked her tighter, the barrel of the gun now jammed harshly against her temple again. “Try me again!” Darren roared, chest heaving, eyes wild. “Go ahead, try me again!”

Jongho straightened slowly, eyes narrowing, pain flashing across his face, but it didn’t stop him. His jaw was set. He didn’t say a word as Yunho took a step forward, but Darren’s shout stopped him cold. “Don’t fucking move!” He turned the gun from Jongho to Yunho and Mingi, arm shaking but deadly steady.

“You’re gonna let me go,” Darren snarled, dragging Y/N. “I’m gonna walk out of here. I’ll leave the damn city, I’ll leave the country, I don’t care. But if either of you so much as flinch…” The gun tapped against Y/N’s head again. “The next bullet goes in her skull.”

Yunho froze, hands slowly raising. Mingi’s expression shattered into rage and panic. She could feel Darren’s breath at her ear, rapid and erratic. Her heart thundered, but her gaze was locked on the others, Jongho bleeding, Yunho’s burning eyes, Mingi’s clenched fists. She swallowed hard, silently praying they had a plan. And if they didn’t… Then she was going to make one herself.

Yunho slowly lifted both hands, palms open, voice low and steady, controlled rage beneath every syllable. “Darren,” he said, tone eerily calm. “Just give her to us… and we’ll let you go.”

Darren barked out a laugh so sharp it cracked through the gym like glass shattering. “Yeah…. right,” he scoffed. “You think I’m falling for that bullshit? You two have wanted me dead for weeks. Hell, longer.” He dragged Y/N tighter, the gun digging painfully against her jaw. “You hated me since day one. You think I don’t know that? Think I didn’t see the way you watched her?”

Mingi took a slow step down the bleachers, hands out. “Darren…”

“NO!” he screamed, jerking Y/N so violently her breath was knocked from her chest. “Stay where the fuck you are!” Y/N swallowed hard, pulse racing. Her fingers slowly curled behind her, gripping the handle of the knife she’d tucked into her jacket earlier. Metal. Cold. Solid. Her one shot.

Darren’s paranoia ramped higher with every breath. “I never liked you,” he spat, sneering at Yunho and Mingi. “Either of you. You think you’re scary? You think you’re tough? You’re nothing. Nothing.” His grip on her shifted, tight but sloppy. A mistake. Yunho saw it. Mingi saw it. So did Y/N.

Darren continued backing them up the bleachers, step by cautious step, forcing Yunho and Mingi to descend the other side, slowly, carefully, walking down past Jongho, who was slumped against the railing, clutching his shoulder, blood dripping onto the metal steps beneath him.

Jongho lifted his head, eyes meeting Y/N’s for a split second. A warning? A plea? A signal? She didn’t know. But she knew one thing, If she didn’t do something now, none of them were making it out.

She felt Darren shift behind her again, adjusting his grip, and she moved. Y/N twisted violently out of his hold, knee slamming into his thigh, elbow smacking his wrist. The gun clattered down the metal bleachers with a loud echoing clang as Darren grabbed at her again. “You little….”

They crashed onto the steps together, grappling, rolling, Darren’s fingers clawing at her throat, Y/N’s hand tightening around the hidden knife. Yunho and Mingi lunged forward, but they were seconds too far. Darren pinned Y/N on the stairs, snarling down at her, fury wild in his eyes and Y/N’s hand struck upward.

Once. The knife sank into his side. His breath hitched, but she didn’t stop. Twice. Three times. Four.

She didn’t even hear her own screams. Didn’t hear Darren’s choked gasps. Didn’t hear Yunho shouting her name or Mingi sprinting up the steps.

She just saw red.

Every shove. Every bruise. Every lie. Every humiliation.

Every night she’d woken up from nightmares that weren’t nightmares at all….

It all poured out of her in every violent thrust of the blade. She wasn’t stabbing him. She was ending him.

Darren’s grip faltered. His body slumped. But she didn’t stop, not until Yunho and Mingi reached her, grabbing her wrists, pulling her back before she hurt herself, before she lost herself.

“Y/N…. baby… stop, stop!” Yunho gasped, voice shaking as Mingi’s arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her off Darren’s lifeless body, his chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted miles.

But her eyes were still locked on Darren. On what she’d done as Yunho cupped her face, pulling her gaze to him. “You’re okay,” he whispered, breath trembling. “You’re okay. It’s over.”

Jongho staggered down the last few steps of the bleachers, one hand pressed hard against his bleeding shoulder, the other gripping the railing to keep himself upright. His face was pale, jaw clenched, eyes sharp even through the pain.

The wail of sirens rose outside the gym. Someone must of heard the gunshot. Red and blue lights began flashing faintly through the high windows.

Yunho’s head snapped toward the doors. Mingi’s chest heaved as he looked from the stairwell to Jongho to Y/N. They all knew what was about to happen.

Y/N pushed herself off Mingi, breath shaking, blood splattered across her arms and neck. She knelt and yanked the long black Ghostface robe off of Jongho’s body, his blood already staining the collar, then shoved it into Yunho’s hands. “Go,” she said urgently.

Neither of them moved. “Y/N,” Yunho breathed, voice cracking, “we’re not leaving you here…”

“You have to.” She grabbed Mingi’s wrist too, forcing the robe into his hand. “Both of you.”

“But…”

“SIRENS,” she snapped, pointing toward the windows as the lights grew brighter. “They’ll be here any second. You two cannot be found here. If the police catch you…”

Her voice faltered as she swallowed hard. “I’m not losing you.” Yunho’s eyes softened, and Mingi’s throat bobbed like he was swallowing broken glass.

They still didn’t move. So she pushed them, literally shoved Yunho backward toward the emergency exit. “GO!”

Mingi’s jaw trembled. Yunho hesitated another brutal second. Then they ran. Black robes clutched in their fists. Masks hidden inside them. Boots hitting the gym floor in desperate, pounding strides. Yunho looked back once, and the look he gave her nearly shattered her.

Y/N spun toward Jongho, rushing to him as he wavered on his feet. He blinked at her, dazed, breathing hard. “Y/N… what…. are you doing?” She ducked under his arm, slinging it over her shoulders, bracing his weight against her small frame. He stumbled, wincing, but let her guide him. She had a plan.

Because despite everything… he was still her best friend. Still the boy who held her on the floor a year ago. Still the one who checked on her every morning. Still the person she never expected to lose. “I have a plan.”

Jongho stared at her like she’d lost her mind, blood still trickling from the bullet wound in his shoulder. The knife trembled in his hand now as she handed it to him, slick with Darren’s blood. “I need you to stab me.”

“You’re insane,” he whispered hoarsely. “Y/N, I can’t…”

“You have to,” she said, low and urgent. “If they find me unharmed, they’ll start asking questions. Yunho and Mingi… we’ve come too far, Jongho.”

His eyes searched hers, like he was begging her to take it back. “You just killed a man.”

“You three saved me,” she replied, voice tightening. “Now let me save you.”

His breath hitched. A long beat. Then, through clenched teeth, he asked, “Where?” She took his hand and guided it, just under her ribs, off to the side, above her hip. “Here. Not too deep, just enough.”

Jongho nodded once, agony in his expression. His hand hovered. “On three,” she whispered. He didn’t wait for three. He struck quick. The blade went in fast but shallow, and the pain hit her like a tidal wave. She gasped, knees buckling as she slumped into him, clutching at his hoodie as her body went cold.

Blood rushed out warm and thick, soaking her shirt. Jongho caught her, holding her up as her head fell against his chest, his own body shaking. “Fuck… fuck, Y/N…”

“Good…” she whispered, eyes squeezed shut. “You did good…”

That’s when the first siren sounded outside and Jongho stiffened, hearing it draw closer, then doors banging open in the gym beyond them. Shouting. Footsteps. Flashlight beams dancing across the hallway walls.

He shifted his weight, lowering her to the floor gently, cradling her head. Y/N blinked slowly, her breaths short. “They’re here,” she murmured. Jongho nodded, brushing the hair from her face with a bloodied hand.

A second later, voices echoed around the hallway corner. “Go! Clear the right wing!”

“Y/N?” It was Seonghwa’s voice, sharp and panicked, followed by the unmistakable sound of Hongjoong’s boots hitting the floor hard behind him. They rounded the corner, flashlights landing on the blood. On Y/N. On Jongho.

“Help!” Jongho shouted, barely getting to his feet, blood running down his arm. “She… Darren… he stabbed her before I… before I got to him…. he’s dead, I think he’s dead, please!”

Seonghwa dropped to his knees beside her immediately, checking her wound, while Hongjoong radioed for a medic. “Stay awake, Y/N, come on,” Seonghwa murmured, voice gentle but tense. “You’re okay now.” Y/N opened her eyes weakly, just enough to meet Jongho’s. They both knew the story they were about to tell. And the one they’d just buried.

The overhead lights in the gym flickered faintly as EMTs rushed in behind Seonghwa and Hongjoong, one of them already dropping to Y/N’s side to check the bleeding. She winced as they pressed gauze to her side, breath stuttering, eyes glassy. Seonghwa stayed crouched beside her, his hand resting gently near her shoulder, not touching, but ready to ground her. “Y/N,” he said softly, “tell me what happened.”

She blinked slowly, then turned her head toward him. “He… Darren,” she rasped, voice shaking. “He called me. Told me to meet him in the quad. I thought… I thought he just wanted to talk.” Hongjoong crouched nearby, watching her closely. “I didn’t trust him. So I grabbed a knife from the common room,” she went on, words tumbling out fast, “just for protection, in case. But he saw me with Jongho, and he just… he snapped. Started saying I set him up.…” Her eyes flicked to Jongho, who was pressing gauze to his own bleeding shoulder. He gave her the faintest nod.

“He pulled out a gun,” Y/N said, the memory making her flinch. “Shot Jongho. And then…. he came at me. We fought. I managed to stab him once… just once…. and tried to run, but he got the knife from me. He…. he stabbed me.” Her voice cracked on that part, but she pushed through. “I tried to get away again, but he grabbed me… and I…. I got the knife back somehow. I don’t even remember how. And I just…” She trailed off, looking down at her blood soaked shirt. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just… I didn’t want to die.”

There was a heavy silence before Hongjoong stood slowly, exchanging a look with Seonghwa. The kind that said, she’s not lying and we had this all wrong. Seonghwa leaned in again, his voice softer now. “You’re okay, Y/N. You did what you had to.”

The EMT looked up. “She needs to be transported. Now.” Hongjoong nodded. “We’ll meet her there. And Jongho too, get that shoulder seen.”

Y/N caught Jongho’s wrist weakly as they lifted her onto the stretcher. “Keep it straight,” she whispered. “We match. Don’t mess it up.” Jongho gave her a tight, blood streaked smile. “We won’t.”

And as the stretcher rolled out under flashing red and blue lights, the lies solidified around them, sharp, deliberate, and dressed in truth.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

The hospital emergency wing buzzed with low chatter, beeping monitors, and the faint smell of antiseptic. Y/N was somewhere behind double doors being stitched up. Jongho was down the hall in another room, getting the bullet removed. Outside both rooms, officers came and went, keeping watch while detectives spoke quietly among themselves.

Yunho and Mingi burst into the waiting area like they’d sprinted the whole way from campus, hair disheveled, still half dressed from the ghostface robes they’d tossed in a dumpster. Before they could get more than two steps inside, Seonghwa’s arm shot out across their chests, stopping them cold.

Hongjoong stood beside him, arms crossed, eyes sharp as blades. “Where were you two?” Seonghwa asked, voice low, serious but not accusing. Not anymore. Yunho swallowed hard. “We were getting ready to go to Y/N’s dorm…”

“To check on her,” Mingi added quickly, breath still uneven. “But when we got there,” Yunho continued, “she was already gone. And then..” He pointed toward the hallway. “Then Jongho called. Said they were hurt. Said they were here.”

A flicker of concern crossed Hongjoong’s face before the exhaustion returned. His voice was steady, measured, the way it always was when he was processing too much at once. “They were attacked,” he said quietly. “Y/N and Jongho.”

Mingi stiffened. “What? By who?”

Seonghwa exchanged a look with Hongjoong before answering. “Darren.”

Yunho and Mingi both went still. Too still. The kind of stillness only someone who is already guilty has to fake, but Seonghwa was too tired, too worried, too overwhelmed to notice. Hongjoong rubbed a hand over his face with a heavy sigh. “Apparently the sick bastard has been the killer this whole time. He lured Y/N out, went after her, shot Jongho, and then turned on her.”

Mingi let his jaw drop in disbelief, shaking his head dramatically. “You’re kidding. Dude killed his own dad?”

Yunho forced his brows to furrow, eyes widening just the right amount. “Is she okay? Jongho too?”

“Jongho will recover from the gunshot,” Seonghwa said. “Y/N’s wound wasn’t deep, thank god. She fought him off. They… they were lucky.” Hongjoong’s voice softened. “She saved Jongho’s life. And her own.”

Mingi exhaled shakily, letting his shoulders drop like he’d just been punched. Yunho covered his mouth with one hand, staring down at the floor like he was trying not to fall apart.

Hongjoong gave them each a firm pat on the shoulder. “She’ll want to see you when she wakes up.”

“Just… give the officers a little time,” Seonghwa added. “They’re taking statements and wrapping up the scene.”

Yunho nodded, voice barely above a whisper. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Mingi echoed him softly. “We’ll stay.”

And no one questioned a damn thing. Not the blood on their sleeves they’d scrubbed off in the parking lot. Not the panic in their eyes that wasn’t fear, but fury at losing control of the plan. Not the way they kept glancing down the hallway toward the rooms where Y/N and Jongho were recovering.

They looked like worried friends. They looked innocent. And for the first time, everyone believed them.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Almost a month later and headlines had finally stopped. The campus quad, once overrun with yellow tape and cops, was back to being overrun with coffee carrying students and couples holding hands. Darren was officially named the killer. His photo was plastered across crime blogs and news sites, and every Reddit thread under the sun had already theorized his motivations a dozen different ways.

Y/N crossed the street with Jongho by her side, both moving a little slower than usual. She had a bandage peeking out from beneath the edge of her jacket, almost fully healed. Jongho’s shoulder was still sore, but he refused to wear the sling anymore. Said it made him look “too injured to be the hero,” whatever the hell that meant.

They pushed open the glass door to the café, a little bell jingling above them. The warmth inside smelled like cinnamon, espresso, and new beginnings. “Grab the window seat,” Y/N said, gesturing with her chin as she headed to the counter.

Jongho claimed the booth. A second later, Yunho and Mingi strolled in behind her, casual, a little late, but that had always been their style. Yunho’s hands were tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. Mingi had sunglasses perched in his hair and that cocky little half smile he wore too easily. They still looked like trouble. Dangerous. And maybe they were. But to Y/N? They were hers.

They all sat around the table with coffees and fresh croissants, the kind that flaked everywhere and left sugar on the tips of fingers. It should’ve been awkward, three boys, one girl, scars fresh and headlines still lingering, but it wasn’t. Not with the way Yunho slipped her his phone to show her a meme he saved just for her. Not with the way Mingi tore his croissant in half and gave her the bigger piece without thinking. Not with the way Jongho sipped his drink and leaned back, watching them all like he was trying to memorize this rare moment of peace.

“So,” Jongho said after a quiet minute, “what now?” Y/N met Yunho’s eyes. Then Mingi’s. She gave a soft little smile that didn’t reach all the way up, but it was getting closer. “Now,” she said, “we live.”

“Even after everything?” Jongho asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Especially after everything.”

There was a pause, then Yunho reached for her hand under the table. Mingi’s knee bumped hers on purpose. Jongho stole her last bite of croissant just to make her roll her eyes.

Outside, life went on. Inside, the four of them sat at a little round table with blood still under their fingernails, secrets stitched between their ribs, and matching nightmares they’d never fully admit to. But they were alive.

And they were together. And sometimes, that was enough.

They lingered another ten minutes, finishing off crumbs and letting the warmth settle into the quiet corners of their bodies. Healing took time, but the laughter between them? That part came easy.

Eventually Yunho stretched, joints popping. “We should get going,” he murmured. Jongho stood carefully, his shoulder still stiff, and muttered, “Yeah, before the lunch rush traps us here forever.”

Mingi, however, was already halfway out of his chair. “Hold up, I’m getting another coffee. That last one was basically water.”

Jongho stepped outside, the cool air sweeping into the café as the door closed behind him. Y/N stayed seated a second longer, watching Mingi lean casually against the counter, waiting for his drink. Of course there was a girl beside him, pretty, wide eyed, hair tucked behind an ear as she giggled at something he said. Her hand brushed his arm. Twice.

Y/N stood. On her way to the counter, she leaned up and kissed Yunho softly, right on the mouth, murmuring, “I’m gonna grab myself another coffee too. Be right there.” He gave her that slow, warm smile she loved. “Don’t take too long.”

Mingi turned at the sound of her footsteps. “Hey, grab me another croissant, I forgot, chocolate this time, please! I’ll wait outside with Yunho and Jongho.” He slid past her, brushing a hand along her hip in that way he always did, claiming without saying a word, and disappeared out the door.

Y/N stepped up to order, the girl beside her still staring after Mingi like she was about to chase him into the street. Her coffee finished quickly. She grabbed the cup, and Mingi’s croissant, turned, and crossed directly into the girl’s space. Close enough that the girl flinched and Y/N smiled sweetly.

“Hey,” she said lightly, like they were friends. “Just a tip for the future?”

The girl blinked. “Um… sure?”

Y/N leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper warm enough to be mistaken for kindness. “You ever try flirting with my boyfriend again…” Her smile sharpened. “I’ll kill you.”

The girl’s face drained of color as Y/N straightened, gave her a soft pat on the shoulder like she’d just handed out study advice, then walked toward the door, hips swaying, coffee and croissant in hand.

Outside, her boys were waiting for her.

And she fit right between them like she always had.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @seungminniemin @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990 @straytiny127 @sannies-tiddies @hannahstacos @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @love--in-stayville @hartsablaze @remi-young @bubbly-moon @fvxyxnh0 @herpoetryprincess @prchiquita8 @dreamgirlevilera @booposaurusrex @onecursedkitty @dvrktvnnel @atinynoona

They wouldn’t be far behind Steve, but he figured if they trailed behind slightly, that might give him a minute or two alone with Billy.

Soon the nurse stopped in front of one of the nearby rooms and knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open.

She informed Billy that he had guests, before fussing as the blond tried to push himself so he could be sitting up on the bed.

Steve could see his pained expression; Billy only held it for a moment before lifting his eyes up at his boyfriend.

A soft smile tugged at Steve’s lips as he approached slowly. Billy looked dazed. It was probably whatever pain meds they had him on. Steve was sure they’d given him something strong but… He still looked like he was in a great deal of pain.

His heart ached… it didn’t seem fair. Hadn’t Billy suffered enough?

They didn’t have the opportunity to talk privately. Soon, Hopper, Max, and El all piled into the room.

El was the first to ask Billy if he was okay.

He reached out to pat her head, a soft laugh escaping his lips.

“You know its going to take an awful lot more than that to get rid of me.” He ruffled her hair a little as he chuckled softly.

Steve was relieved. While Billy was pretty banged up, he still seemed okay.

It wasn’t long into their visit that Steve moved to sit on a chair near the bed. He laid his head down next to Billy’s chest, holding the other’s hand as he listened to the group chat. Then slowly, he drifted off to sleep, finally allowing himself to relax.

He knew Billy was okay. That was all that mattered.

That was all that ever would matter.

Billy remained in the hospital for another five days.

Once he was released, the doctor simply stated that he needed to remain cautious and try to rest until his body healed. It would take time, but eventually, he would feel like his old self again. So, Billy intended to do just that, although there was one more thing, he knew he needed to do before he could relax entirely.

The funeral for Neil Hargrove would be held a week after his passing.

They decided to go with a closed casket, considering the injuries he’d suffered because of the crash. Not that very many people cared to attend the service anyway.

Hopper had allowed Steve to stay overnight at the cabin with Billy, as long as he agreed to keep the door open when he was in the room with Billy and sleep on the couch at night. Steve considered sneaking into the bedroom, but he didn’t think Billy would be able to spare the room on the bed anyway. Because of the damage done to his ribs, he seemed uncomfortable depending on how he lay, Steve didn’t want to cause him any more discomfort.

Steve was a bit surprised when Billy insisted on going to Neil’s funeral.

They’d only come back to the cabin for a couple of days before Max called, telling them about the funeral.

Steve and Hopper considered not telling Billy at all, but they figured he would want to know. They just didn’t imagine he’d insist stubbornly on going.

After all the damage that man caused. He didn’t deserve to have anyone mourn him.

Eventually, Hopper gave in and agreed that Billy could attend the funeral, but he insisted that the young man use a wheelchair. Billy didn’t seem to love the idea, but agreed, nonetheless.

The next day, Steve helped Billy get ready.

While Billy sat on the corner of his bed, Steve gently moved his hands around the other’s neck as he looped up Billy’s tie until it was neat and secure against his collar.

“Did your dad teach you to do that?” Billy asked in a soft voice, his eyes shifting down a little.

“No.” Steve sighed as he shrugged his shoulders. “Kind of had to teach myself. Fucked it up a few times but I eventually figured it out.” A playful smile tugged on his lips. Slowly, he reached up to touch Billy’s face. “You know… You don’t have to go to this. You don’t-” He paused, frowning tightly for a moment, “You don’t owe him anything.”

Billy looked down; his eyes seemed unfocused for a moment before he let a faint sigh breathe past his lips. “That isn’t why I want to go.” He said softly, “I don’t… Feel like I need to go for him. I’m… I’m going for me.” His hand moved up to fumble nervously with the end of the tie.

“It’s not- I don’t think it’s really about me feeling like I owe him anything.” He continued, shaking his head while seeming somewhat exasperated. “I don’t want anything from him anyway. I… I may have when I was younger, but I stopped wanting anything from him way before we moved out here to Hawkins. I don’t want his home, or his money, or anything he had, and-” He tensed up, “I don’t want his love. I haven’t wanted it… not for a long time.”

As his hands began to tremble, he moved to rest them on the edge of the bed, gripping at the mattress.

“I don’t think it will make much sense. I don’t even really understand it, honestly. I’m not even going just to see that he’s gone and reassure myself. I get that he’s dead. I don’t need any reassurance on that… It’s just. For me. I… I want to say goodbye. Not because he matters or because he doesn’t matter. Just… to end it all. All of the suffering and misery he’s caused me. I…I want it gone. I think… To do that, I need to say goodbye. One final time.” Billy sighed, before looking up at Steve, tears pooling in his eyes, threatening to escape.

A small frown tugged at Steve’s lips. Instead of speaking, he reached out to cup Billy’s face with both of his hands as he tenderly brushed his thumbs over his eyelids, gently pushing away the tears.

“I understand.” He murmured softly, “I… Don’t dislike my dad, I just… Don’t think of him much since he was never really around, but despite that- I think, I’d like to say goodbye to him. I’d like to know that my story with him has ended.” He shrugged his shoulders as he then leaned in to give Billy a soft kiss. “That story may have ended, but… you know, it’s just the beginning now.” He offered a faint smile, clearly attempting to cheer Billy up.

Steve’s efforts appeared to have worked as Billy smiled gently back up at him.

Hopper soon came by to see if they were ready. He wasn’t rushing them, he wanted Billy to take his time.

Steve had never seen the man act so kind and gentle, but Billy had. He had the day he was brought to the cabin, after the incident at the mall.

He’d been broken. Beaten down, as if the only option fitting for him was death. However, Hopper reminded him of all the reasons to keep pushing forward. He encouraged Billy to survive.

Of course, Steve had been there to remind Billy that he had something worth living for. Not that Steve would want Billy to think that he was the only thing worth living for, but at the time… Hopper and Steve motivated him to thrive again.

Gradually, Hopper grew stricter with him, but in the beginning… He’d offered the kindness Billy needed to find the courage to live again.

With a gentle smile, Billy looked up at Hopper, his eyes shining with gratitude.

“You okay, bud?” Hopper asked, seeming concerned.

Shaking his head, Billy showed the man that he was fine. “I’m just… Really glad I have you- both of you.” He smiled back at Steve, who had already been grinning down at him.

“You’re so sweet.” Steve teased softly, moving to ruffle up Billy’s hair. The other flashed a playful glare, as he tried to swat Steve’s hand away.

“Better not get used to it. That’s the last time, Harrington.” Billy huffed, although he couldn’t help but grin faintly.

Steve and Hopper then helped Billy out to the Cruzer. He could move around decently, but it felt less painful with someone else supporting him as he walked.

With the wheelchair packed in the back of the Cruzer, once everyone was in their seats, Hopper began to drive towards the church located in the center of town.

El had stayed with Max, so they would meet them once they arrived.

The ride to the funeral was silent. Billy leaned against the window as he stared at the trees while they passed to and from his vision.

He felt… numb. It was exactly as he told Steve earlier. He didn’t feel happy, but he didn’t feel sad either. Just… Indifferent. He knew he needed to do this, but he didn’t feel entirely driven. He just wanted to get it over it.

The service was short. Billy sat next to Steve and Max, while Susan sat on the other side of Max. The woman cried softly. Her sadness seemed genuine. Billy could imagine that there were likely good memories she had with Neil. He hadn’t always been terrible.

Even when Billy was young… Neil wasn’t awful. He had vague memories of holidays and birthdays. Neil would smile at him. He would pat his head and tell him that he loved him. Billy would never know now. He’d never know why.

Why did it all have to change?

What happened?

Why couldn’t Neil love him?

After the service came to a close, Neil’s casket was carried out to a plot that had been prepared for him at the church.

No one spoke out for him. No one said a word as the man was lowered into the ground.

As the minutes passed, the family and friends paid their respects and chatted for a moment before gradually carrying on with their day.

Eventually, Billy was the only one left at the grave, sitting in his wheelchair as he looked down at the hole in the earth before him.

It seemed so simple.

A person died, they would be buried, and the world would then forget.

But Billy wouldn’t. He would never forget what kind of person Neil had been. How he failed as a father… He’d been an unlovable monster. Billy had hoped at some point he would change, but… Now, that would never happen.

That was what hurt the most. Neil never changed.

Of course, he might not have changed even if he had survived it all, but the frustrating thing was… Now, Billy would never know. That opportunity had been ripped from him.

It was… frustrating. It was so incredibly frustrating. It wasn’t fair.

With a faint huff, he kicked at the dirt watching it fall onto the casket as tears began to pool in his eyes. Just a few blinks later, they were streaming down his face.

“You weren’t supposed to die, asshole.” He muttered softly, “You were supposed to get better. I-I was waiting-” His voice broke slightly, a faint sob escaping past his lips. “I was waiting for you to change.”

Steve had been standing nearby but far enough away to give Billy his space. He knew his boyfriend needed this. He needed to process his feelings in his own way.

A few minutes passed before Billy moved to wipe the sleeve of his shirt over his face. The man then rolled the wheelchair back and turned around. He looked up, surprised to see Steve standing there.

Instead of asking him about it or pressuring him to tell him that he was okay, Steve walked behind the wheelchair and without a word, he began to bring Billy inside. Once they were back inside the church, he patted the other’s shoulder gently. “It's okay to cry.” He murmured faintly.

That was all it took. Billy broke down into tears again, his shoulders trembling as he crumbled forward, covering his face with his hands.

Steve would speak tenderly to him and gently rub his back as he cried, but he didn’t rush Billy or encourage him to dismiss his feelings. He simply reminded the other that he was there… that he would never leave his side.

The tears dried up a bit faster than they had when he had been at the gravesite. It felt like he didn’t have any more tears to cry. Besides, he wasn’t necessarily sad.

Just… angry.

Everyone met up at Billy’s old home. The home where now, Max and Susan would live on their own.

Of course, Billy could return to live with them now that Neil was gone, but he was content staying with Hopper and El as long as the man was willing to have him.

They visited and ate. It felt… Normal.

It felt safe.

There was never a moment Billy felt safe in that house before. Not once.

But now… Any fear he felt before… Any terror or dread he held for this place, had left. Like a cloud of smoke, the once-choking fumes that lingered around him had finally evaporated.

Peace.

It felt peaceful.

Despite the fuming anger he’d felt just moments ago and the furious tears he cried; a calmness settled over him.

His eyes shifted to each person in the room. They all meant something to him. They were important. They were the reason he survived… and those demons? The ones haunting and tearing at his mind… The one tormenting him endlessly. They remained… but he’d lost one.

Neil would no longer haunt him, and eventually… he wouldn’t allow his past to haunt him either.

A faint sigh broke from his lips.

Peace.

He’d only felt this way once in his life, when he was looking out at the sea and then back to his mother. When he laughed and told her the waves were at least seven feet high. When she held him.

Steve’s eyes met his. A gentle brown. A comforting look. Billy smiled softly up at him.

This was it. His family. His life. His reason for living. His peace.