George’s POV

I wasn’t in the mood for noise.

Fridays always brought a strange sort of tension. Most students craved the end of the week like it was salvation—laughing louder, dressing flashier, chasing some form of release. For me, Fridays meant pressure. My body ran hotter. The wolf in me stirred more easily. Something about the approach of the weekend always tested my patience, as if the thin skin of my control grew tighter with every passing hour.

I had planned to stay low tonight.

A quiet evening. Maybe shoot some hoops alone. Then meet up with Stacie for dinner at that rooftop spot she liked. Nothing fancy, just something quiet. Something normal. She said she liked it when we did “normal.”

Not that I ever felt normal.

I was in my room, sitting shirtless at the edge of the bed, lacing my black sneakers when the door creaked open and Piers strolled in like he owned the place. He didn’t knock. He never did.

“Bro,” he said with that signature grin, already tossing a can of soda onto my desk, “big night. Green House is lit already. You in?”

I didn’t look up. “No.”

Piers scoffed like I had just told him I’d started a knitting club. “What do you mean no? You know they’re throwing this party half in your name, right? The sponsorship deal went through. You're the captain. You have to show face.”

“I have plans,” I said, straightening up and walking to the wardrobe for a fresh shirt. “Date night.”

“Ahh,” he said knowingly, leaning against the wall. “Stacie.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t need to.

Stacie Nwachukwu was the type of girl most guys admired from afar—elegant, intelligent, the daughter of a business magnate who kept her image spotless and her private life… well, private. We weren’t exactly a fairytale couple, but we worked. She knew I wasn’t the open-book kind, and I appreciated that she didn’t try to fix me. Ours was a quiet arrangement—one of convenience as much as connection.

I wasn’t in love with her.

I wasn’t sure I was capable of that anymore.

Still, I respected her. She gave me a sense of structure. Something to hold onto when the wolf inside clawed for dominance.

Piers popped the soda open and took a loud sip. “You know, George, sometimes I think you like avoiding people for sport.”

“People are noisy,” I muttered. “And dramatic.”

He laughed. “Isn’t that what makes them fun?”

I shot him a look that shut him up—at least for a second. He knew better than to push too hard when my tone dropped. There were times I liked Piers’ energy. Other times, I wanted to put him through a wall. He never knew which version of me he’d get. And that was exactly how I liked it.

Just then, my phone buzzed on the desk.

Stacie.

I grabbed it and answered. “Hey.”

“George,” she said, and I could already tell from her tone that something was off.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighed softly. “I’m so sorry. I can’t make it tonight.”

I ran a hand through my hair and turned away from Piers, who was now eavesdropping with zero shame. “Why?”

“My dad called last minute,” she said. “He needs me to go over some legal documents with his assistant before he travels tomorrow. It’s... urgent.”

Of course it was. When wasn’t it?

I leaned against the windowsill, my voice flat. “It’s fine.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to.”

She was quiet for a beat. “George, are you okay?”

“I’m always okay.”

She didn’t challenge me. She never did. “We’ll reschedule. Have a good night, alright?”

I hung up without saying goodbye.

Piers was still watching, arms crossed now. “Let me guess. Date’s off.”

I didn’t answer.

He grinned like a kid winning a game. “That means you’re free.”

“No, it means I’m not in the mood.”

He walked over and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Bro, come on. The whole team’s gonna be there. They’re literally calling it the ‘Captain’s Bash.’ You ghost this party, they’ll never shut up about it.”

“I don’t care what they say.”

“Maybe not,” he replied, “but you know what happens when you stay locked in too long. You start spiraling. You start feeling.”

That last word lingered in the air.

Piers didn’t know everything about me, but he knew enough to tread lightly. He’d seen me snap once—just once—and he never forgot it. He didn’t ask questions. Just accepted that there were parts of me that were better left undisturbed.

Still, he was right in a way. When I spent too much time alone, my thoughts got louder. My instincts sharpened. And tonight… the heat inside me was rising.

Maybe being around people—loud, obnoxious, human people—would distract me.

I stepped away from the window, grabbed a plain black t-shirt from the bed, and pulled it over my head.

Piers blinked. “Wait… you’re coming?”

I didn’t look at him as I slipped my phone into my pocket. “Only for an hour.”

He grinned like he’d just won the lottery. “My man! That’s all I needed to hear.”

I picked up my watch from the desk and strapped it on, my movements precise.

The Green House.

Music.

Faces.

Crowds.

Fake smiles.

More noise.

Not my scene. But for tonight, it would have to do.

I didn’t know why I agreed to go. Maybe it was boredom. Maybe it was instinct. Or maybe, deep down, I sensed something was coming—something different.

Something that would change everything.