2 days ago. 7 August 2025.
Lyra bounced on the balls of her feet, smoothing the silky fabric of her dress. The dorm lights cast a warm glow, painting everything in hues of gold and amber. Her reflection in the polished door stared back, wide-eyed and nervous.
She tugged at a stray strand of hair, tucking it behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, tracing the delicate curve of her collarbone. Taking a deep breath, Lyra straightened, trying to appear nonchalant.
Clay's door.
Just beyond that door, Clay Everett, the boy whose mind was as sharp as a tack and whose smile could melt glaciers, waited.
She'd spent hours picking out this dress, agonizing over every detail.
Tonight, she felt beautiful.
Tonight, she felt… brave.
Lyra took another deep breath, willing herself to relax.
She knocked, her knuckles rapping lightly against the wood.
The door swung open, revealing Clay Everett, bathed in the warm glow of the dorm room’s fairy lights. His eyes, usually alight with mischief, widened, crinkling at the corners.
"Lyra! Wow, hey," Clay breathed, stepping aside. His smile, genuine and warm, illuminated his entire face.
"H-hey," Lyra replied, stepping inside. A wave of relief washed over her, but it was pretty clearly followed by a wave of "oh my gosh, it's Clay!", because her eyes practically sparkled like the disco ball she'd stolen from the campus party last month. Clay's easygoing demeanor instantly calmed her racing heart, which was probably a result of butterflies rather than the suspense of the meeting. He couldn't help the grin that split his face like a perfectly-executed trick play.
The air hung thick with unspoken words and a warmth that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. Their eyes met, both holding a mischievous glint. A soft giggle escaped Lyra first, followed by a sheepish chuckle from Clay.
"Come on in, come on in," Clay stammered, his hands waving vaguely towards the beanbag chairs scattered across the floor. He shuffled a bit, awkwardly trying to appear cool and collected while his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. It was Lyra! He'd been wanting to see her again since...well, since forever. But now that she was actually here, his carefully constructed nonchalance was crumbling faster than a stale cookie.
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The flickering blue light of the television cast strange shadows across Clay’s dorm room. Empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, casualties of their late-night Squid Game marathon. Lyra and Clay snuggled deeper into the beanbag chair, their gaze glued to the screen.
"Wait wait wait!" Clay exclaimed, his eyes widening with excitement. "It's THIS scene, I know it!"
"What scene?" Lyra asked, tilting her head in confusion.
"I'VE PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE!" Clay burst out, mimicking the iconic Squid Game dub with dramatic flair.
Lyra gasped, doubled over with laughter. "OH MY GOD— That old meme!"
"Nah, it wasn't even that old,"
"Come on, Clay, six months in meme year is basically ancient history. Do you even remember what was even trending a year ago?"
Clay scratched his head. "Uhh... Hawk Tuah? No, no, Hawk Tuah is definitely not old! You see?"
"Okay, how about that... KSI song?"
Clay's face broke into a grin. "Ohhhhh, FROM THE SCREEN TO THE RING TO THE PEN-"
"To the pen to the KINGGG-" Lyra joined in, their laughter blending together.
"See?" Lyra continued, her voice laced with amusement. "Hardly anyone jokes about that song anymore."
Lyra looked at Clay, but her eyes quickly darted to a table across the room. She kept her gaze fixed on Clay while stretching out a finger, barely moving it. It looked like a tiny wave went out from her finger, getting bigger and bigger until it reached the table. The mug on the table started to shake, then slowly lifted up, floating in the air without touching anything. The mug silently floated towards Lyra, stopping right in her hand.
Clay kept his eyes locked on Lyra, a wide smile on his face. He then turned back to the TV, asking playfully, "So, how does it feel being a Noesis?"
"Huh? Oh," Lyra replied, her gaze still lingering on Clay. "You get lazy grabbing things too? Yeah, I guess it's pretty cool to be a Noesis."
"Seriously, I bet Noesis is the most overpowered faction in New Olympus, no cap."
"What? Why? Isn't being super intelligent way more OP? Like, you Cipher folks…"
"Imagine this, you're fighting, say, an Ascensus or a Vectorn, and you, a Noesis, just stop them completely—freeze them like statues. Easy win."
Lyra chuckled softly, "Not every Noesis can do that... only a select few. My dad used to be that strong, though," she added, her voice dropping slightly.
Clay's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Wow. Your dad's...intense."
Lyra looked down at her hands, "Yeah... definitely," she murmured.
"You know, my ex was an Ascensus, and she's..." Clay trailed off, pausing for a moment. "Wait, do you know I have an ex?"
"N-no," Lyra replied, shaking her head.
"Oh..."
"It's fine, continue," Lyra encouraged, leaning closer, her curiosity piqued.
"Oh, yeah, so, do you know Clara Belle?"
"Nah, I just got here! It's so hard to memorize all my new friends' names, let alone seniors..."
"Well, at least you know one senior now. Two, actually," Clay chuckled. "Anyway, she was a psycho, I swear to god. I don't even know why I dated her. Always breaking stuff when she's angry, throwing tantrums... you know, she once broke my phone with her bare hands just because I was chatting with another girl? Like, literally, that girl was just in my project group!"
"Oh, nah..."
"I know, right?" Clay exclaimed, shaking his head. "Just because I'm half weaker than her, thanks to her Superman powers, doesn't mean she had the right to destroy everything! Well, anyways, she was really a bitch, a 'slut' even,"
Lyra playfully nudged him, her tone admonishing. "You-you can't just say things like that about people!"
"Nah, but I'm serious! All she cared about was boys, parties, looking hot, and, well, fuck people. Mentally and, yeah, literally."
"Well, I've, uh, fucked around with people too. Mentally! Mentally… especially with my dad…"
"Really? What… happened?"
Lyra hesitated, biting her lip. "Um..."
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A heavy silence settled over them, punctuated only by the soft murmur of the TV. Clay saw the flicker of uncertainty in Lyra's eyes, the way her gaze dropped to her hands, twisting nervously in her lap.
"It's alright if you don't wanna talk about it," Clay offered gently, giving Lyra a reassuring smile.
A hush fell over them, broken only by the pounding of their hearts. Lyra's eyes locked onto Clay's, and in that gaze, a spark ignited, flaring into a wildfire of emotion. Time seemed to stretch, the world outside fading into a blur. She felt a dizzying sense of falling, surrendering to a feeling so powerful, so intoxicating, it felt like coming home. Clay, mirroring her intensity, felt a warmth bloom in his chest, spreading outward, consuming him. His breath hitched, caught in the magnetic pull of her gaze.
The air crackled with unspoken tension. Lyra's gaze lingered on Clay's lips, a silent invitation. He, in turn, found himself captivated by the way her eyes sparkled, a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. Slowly, almost hesitantly, they leaned towards each other, drawn together by an invisible thread. Their breaths mingled, creating a soft, warm space between them.
Just as their lips were practically touching, a sound erupted from the door that resembled a walrus sneezing on a tuba. A deafening CRACK, followed by a splintering BANG, sent Lyra stumbling backward, clutching her chest dramatically. Clay, caught in the middle of a romantic swoon, ended up sprawled awkwardly on the floor, looking like a startled puppy.
"CLAY! CLAY! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"
Clara Belle's voice, usually smooth as silk, now sounded like a banshee stuck in a wind tunnel. Her words, punctuated by frantic thumping, suggested she was treating the door like a personal punching bag.
They scrambled apart, looking like startled pigeons, hearts pounding. Clay shot a bewildered glance at the door, then back at Lyra, his eyebrows doing a frantic dance. Lyra, completely bewildered, stared at him, her mouth slightly agape.
Clay squinted at the door, bewildered. "The fuck...?"
Lyra's eyes widened, piecing things together. "Is that...?"
"The psycho we literally just talked about?" Clay snapped, his voice laced with panic. "Fuck—get out!"
"Get out?!"
Clay's mind raced, his gaze darting around the room. His first-floor window, leading out to the parking lot, seemed like the best escape route. "Yeah! You should... uh...you should leave! Now!" he stammered, grabbing her hand.
But Clara Belle's voice boomed through the door, louder this time, laced with a manic intensity. "CLAY! I JUST WANNA TALK!!" she yelled. Another deafening BANG echoed through the room as she rammed her shoulder against the thick metal plating. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!"
"What's happening? Why is she even here now?!" Lyra asked, panic lacing her voice.
"Please—Lyra—just stop asking and leave!" Clay hissed, desperation edging into his tone.
Suddenly, the heavy steel door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing Clara Belle standing in the doorway. Her usual carefree smirk was replaced by a determined frown, and in her hand, she held a smart card, identical to the one Clay used to unlock his door.
Lyra and Clay stared at her, speechless with surprise.
Clara Belle stared at Lyra and Clay, a strange mix of emotions flashing across her face. Her eyes, usually bright and playful, now looked wild, almost crazy. She couldn't quite hide the hurt and anger bubbling inside her. Seeing Clay with another girl was clearly a major upset, like finding out your favourite brand of glitter had been discontinued. She tried to force a chuckle, but it just came out as a strangled squeak, like a dying goose. It was hard to tell if she was more devastated or ready to launch into a dramatic monologue about betrayal and heartbreak.
Clay's gaze darted between Clara Belle's wild grin and Lyra, who was now looking at him like a deer trapped in headlights. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. This wasn't how his Thursday night was supposed to go. He'd pictured pizza, Netflix, and maybe a little bit of...well, you know. Not a dramatic entrance by his ex, who was known to stalk party animals in high school.
Lyra's mind was officially fried. Considering the crazy look in Clara Belle's eye, Lyra had suddenly downgraded her knowledge of this situation from "zero clue" to "definitely shouldn't have chosen this as my weekend fun activity." This was beyond awkward. She was pretty sure her internal panic alarm was playing the Terminator theme song on a loop.
Lyra mentally threw her hands up in the air. "Oh my God," she thought, trying not to let her fear show. "What the fuck did I get myself into?"
"Babe...?" Belle stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
Clay stammered, "M-my key!" he pointed at the duplicate smart card in Belle's hand, his voice cracking with disbelief. "How the hell did you even get that?!"
"Oh, I swear to God, I'm going to KILL you!" Belle hissed, her anger palpable as she took a menacing step towards Clay.
"W-woah- hold on,"
Belle grabbed Clay, shaking him violently. "TELL ME OUR RELATIONSHIP MEANT SOMETHING!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"Belle, put me down! Please, we can talk about this,"
"NO!" Belle roared, dragging Clay backwards. "I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME! I LOVED YOU! I DID EVERYTHING FOR US! FOR US!"
"Belle… chill, okay?!"
"CHILL?!" Belle's laughter was a chilling cackle. "YOU WANT ME TO CHILL?! YOU EXPECT ME TO CHILL WHILE YOU'RE OUT CHEATING?!"
"WE BROKE UP! I thought you'd moved on!"
"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED TO LEAVE ME!" Belle screamed, throwing Clay against the wall. "HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON?!"
"Leave him alone!" Lyra yelled, stepping forward.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! LEAVE US ALONE!" Belle snarled, pushing Lyra aside.
"Lyra, GO!" Clay urged.
Belle's gaze flickered to the TV, where Squid Game's second season was playing. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "YOU—YOU'RE WATCHING THE SECOND SEASON WITH HER?! YOU PROMISED ME WE'D WATCH IT TOGETHER! ASSHOLE!"
"Yeah, ONE MONTH AGO!" Clay yelled back, trying to maintain distance.
"OH, I'VE HAD ENOUGH WITH YOU, MOTHERFUCK—" Belle started, ready to unleash a torrent of rage, but then her voice faltered. Her anger seemed to crack, replaced by a sudden, overwhelming grief.
Lyra saw red. Oh, not literally. But Belle was being insanely dramatic, and Lyra, still reeling from the whole mess, decided to add her own layer of chaos to the situation. With a twitch of her telekinetic abilities, Lyra sent the chipped mug flying towards Belle with surprising accuracy. It collided with her head with a loud CRASH!, sending ceramic shards everywhere. Belle yelped in surprise, clutching her head.
Lyra froze.
She'd just thrown a mug at a psycho.
A wave of panic washed over her. "Uh... did that hurt?" she stammered, blinking rapidly. "I mean, I'm so sorry! You're an Ascensus, so maybe it didn't even...you know..." Lyra trailed off, feeling ridiculous.
Belle's instant shift from pain to fury was like watching a cartoon character flip their switch. "FUCK YOU!" she screeched, striding towards Lyra with the grace of a grumpy rhinoceros.
Lyra, still processing her own questionable action, backed away like a startled gazelle.
"NO!" Clay, ever the knight in shining armor (or at least a slightly scruffier student in worn Nike sneakers), jumped in front of Lyra, shoving Belle with a considerable amount of force. She stumbled back, sprawling across the floor like a caffeinated falling domino.
For a moment, they simply stared each other down, both panting, eyes blazing.
Then, as quickly as they'd fallen, both lurched back to their feet.
Clay, fueled by adrenaline and a desire to protect Lyra, lunged at Belle.
"ARGH- CLAY EVERETT- YOU'RE A DEAD MAN!" Belle, fueled by rage and cheap tequila, met his charge head-on.
Their initial grapple was clumsy, more flailing limbs than coordinated strikes. Belle, despite her petite frame, landed a surprisingly powerful kick to Clay's shin, sending him stumbling. Clay, however, recovered quickly, using his superior height to shove Belle back.
Belle, undeterred, retaliated with a flurry of punches, each one aimed wildly at Clay's chest. Clay, with exaggerated grace, dodged each blow, spinning and weaving like a slightly intoxicated flamingo.
He managed to grab Belle's arm, attempting to restrain her, but Belle, with a surprising burst of strength, twisted free, sending Clay sprawling onto the floor.
Clay, momentarily stunned, scrambled back, landing awkwardly on his backside. Belle, chest heaving, stood triumphantly over him, fists clenched.
"Alright, alright, truce!" Clay held up his hands, trying to regain his composure.
Belle, however, wasn't finished. Her eyes narrowed.
"Oh, it's ON, babe!" she snarled, launching herself at him.
Clay, realizing diplomacy wasn't an option, rolled aside, narrowly avoiding Belle's flailing fist. He scrambled to his feet, dodging another wild swing, and attempted to grab Belle's arm again.
Belle, however, had learned from their previous encounter. With a swift twist, she broke free, sending Clay stumbling backwards.
"YOU REALLY FUCKED ME UP- FUCK YOU-" Belle screamed, channeling her inner superhero.
She raised her hands, focusing her energy. Her eyes glowed, and two laser beams started to build. She's suddenly hesitating, like she was trying to scare Clay, not actually hurt him.
Lyra, watching in horror, knew she had to intervene.
"NO!" she screamed, flinging herself towards the TV.
With a flick of her wrist, she telekinetically launched the television across the room.
The TV, propelled by Lyra's powers, slammed into Belle's head, knocking her off balance.
Belle, in a burst of impulsive anger, shoots her beams wildly off course.
They shot straight through the window Clay had opened earlier, piercing the unsuspecting head of a janitor, who was walking by outside.
Silence descended upon the room.
Clay, Belle, and Lyra stared at the lifeless janitor, sprawled on the ground outside.
Clay's jaw dropped. Belle's eyes widened. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest.
Clay slowly stood up, wanting to see what happened better.
The sight made his stomach churn. Everleigh Rose, the nice janitor they saw all the time, was outside, sprawled on the ground. Her head was badly hurt - it was a mess. Belle put her hand over her mouth, trying not to scream. Lyra just stood there, staring, unable to take her eyes away. The bright lights from the ceiling made the scene even worse.
The silence that followed the confrontation was almost deafening. It wasn't a peaceful quiet; it was the heavy, tense stillness that descends after a bomb has exploded, the kind of silence that amplifies every imagined sound. The usual hum of the fluorescent lights overhead seemed to crackle and buzz, their bright glare making the scene even more stark and unsettling. Even the distant sounds of the city outside seemed muffled, distant echoes drifting through the thick, uncomfortable quiet.
They all realized, with a sickening feeling, that the fight had ended badly – too badly.