Chapter 1

Prism

The heavy beatof EDM overpowered every other sound in the old abandoned gymnasium perched on the outskirts of the Westbrook campus.

It made the perfect party spot for raves because it was still on campus but far enough removed from everything that we could get away with partying without being caught. Really though, the administration probably knew what students used this discarded building for, but they looked away because, in our world, money talked.

The massive space was bathed in neon blue and green light, turning all the bodies into nothing but gyrating shadows beneath the strobing fluorescents overhead. Sweat and alcohol permeated the humid air, overpowering the scent of chlorine I’d come to think of as my own personal cologne.

Usually, I hated loud noise. Or any noise really. But I liked these raves because the music wasn’t just loud. It was deafening. The kind of beat that penetrated the nervous system, numbing it so it was too overloaded to react, filling me instead with undeviating vibration and an odd sort of quiet.

Yeah, hi. I’m the odd fish. It’s me.

Only in my brain did uber-loud noise create silence.

Not sure I could explain it to you. And honestly, I don’t really want to. Trying to explain myself to anyone has never worked out in my favor. In fact, I could argue it made the noise inside me even more severe.

There are three people in my entire life who’ve been able to get it. No. Not get it. Accept it. Accept me in all my high-maintenance glory.

Three. Not even a big enough number to use up all the fingers on one hand.

Three was better than zero, and I was more grateful to those three people than they would ever understand. In fact, if it weren’t for them, I probably wouldn’t be here vibing beneath the neon strobe lights.

Where would I be? Locked up. Doped up. Six feet under.

Even if I hated this place like most everything else, I would still be here. And not because all of Elite was here partying it up to celebrate the end of swim season.

Because of him.

Everyone wanted to know my type.

I was looking at it.

Arsen Aaron Andrews aka Triple A. Aka the campus DJ. Aka the only guy to draw my attention over and over again. He was completely wrong for me. The polar opposite of everything I was.

So my type? Someone I couldn’t have. Someone I secretly crushed on from the concealment of gyrating bodies, buried under loud music that he skillfully remixed.

It was kind of like the hero falling for the villain.

Except not.

Look, let’s get something straight right now. Well, not straight because I’m gay, but you know what I mean. Okay, you probably don’t, but that’s the point I’m trying to make. I’m not great with words. Or thoughts. Or feelings. It’s hard to make sense of that stuff when everything is so damn loud and I exist in survival mode on a near-daily basis. Keep calm. Act normal. Don’t freak out. The noise isn’t as overwhelming as your brain thinks it is.

How was I supposed to form complete, sensible thoughts when I was just trying to function?

What was I saying again? Oh. Yeah, the hero and villain thing. Bad analogy because, in it, I would be the hero, and I’m definitely not. I wouldn’t call him a villain either. But if I were Superman, Arsen would be my kryptonite. Able to weaken then incapacitate me, take away the strength I fought for.

Still, I stood here staring at the DJ bathed in glowing green light, hypnotized by the beauty of what I knew was poison.

I didn’t know what it was about him that mesmerized me, but I couldn’t look away. Only visible from the waist up, he commanded the stage, nothing motionless about his tall frame.

He was hyper but controlled. The very air around him shimmered with confidence, body moving to the beat as if it came out of him instead of the giant speakers on either side of the platform. Headphones straddled his head, one side shoved back so his ear was out, and as he danced, the neon lights glinted on the silver piercings lining his lobe. When he lifted his face, the same light highlighted the double rings on the right side of his lower lip.

I bet they would be smooth and cool beneath my tongue.

A black T-shirt molded to his chest like a second skin, enhancing the mouthwatering V-shape of his upper body. His hand shot out, and ring-covered fingers flew over his equipment, bouncing a sick new beat through the air. The music was so loud I couldn’t hear the yell he let out, but I watched his lips part with it, and he threw his arm overhead, triceps clenching with the movement.

The crowd roared, and Arsen grinned, his teeth glowing brightly under the fluorescents. Almost as if the cheering crowd had challenged him, he went back to the table to do things I wouldn’t even be able to comprehend, and the new beat was underscored with another song as he layered sounds as if they’d always meant to be mashed together.

A sultan of sound and a pauper of silence. Yeah, that was us.

I mean, if there was an us. Which there wasn’t. Kinda wish there was.

A body slammed into me from the side, and I stumbled forward, colliding with Kruger.

He managed to keep hold of Jess and reach out to steady me so we didn’t end up on the floor as a family sandwich. Jess and Kruger were two out of the three ride-or-die people in my life.

My brother and my sister. Don’t ever let anyone tell you chosen family isn’t real family because those people are the reason shampoo comes with instructions.

For real, don’t put too much stock in the gene pool because it’s clearly underchlorinated.

“Baby, P wants to get our threesome on!” Kruger hollered and swiveled toward me as he danced.

Yeah, my best friend also sounds and acts underchlorinated, but he’s high-quality H20.

I shook my head, but it was no use. He was already twerking in my direction. Grimacing, I turned toward his girl. “Is he drunk?”

Jess laughed and grabbed my hand. “Dance with me, Matty!”

I did because if I didn’t, she’d get twerked on too. ‘Course, she’d probably like it, but that was not a brother’s business.

As we danced, my eyes strayed back to the DJ platform. He looked up at the same moment, and our stares collided. Awareness rippled down my spine, freezing the breath in my lungs and making my steps stutter.

For a split second, I thought maybe I was imagining it. This place was packed and rowdy. What were the odds our eyes would connect in so much chaos? That he would notice me.

Impossible.

His eyes dropped away from mine, and my airway opened, but even so, it was hard to get oxygen past the lump lodged in my throat.

See? My brain started to taunt me, but the same awareness I’d felt just heartbeats ago flushed my skin with heat. Not the same kind of heat that came with being on a crowded dancefloor but the kind that started under the skin, the kind that heated the blood in your veins.

Attention back on Arsen, I couldn’t deny he was looking at me. Not my eyes this time. His intense stare dragged down my body, and as he perused, he tugged on his lip rings with his teeth.

I was a twenty-year-old man. I was no stranger to horny desire.

But what burned up my spine was something else entirely. It emboldened me in a way I never knew, and before I could even think, my body started to move. Gone were the stuttering footsteps and the half-assed attempts at keeping up with my sister on the dance floor.

I was consumed with the molten urge to keep his attention. To make him burn just a fraction of the way I did.

Suddenly, it was as if I were in the water and not on dry land. Gliding my body along to his music the same way I moved in the pool. Controlled but graceful, light but strong. My hips swayed teasingly, and the pad of my thumb hooked in the front pocket of my faded jeans, the slight tug making the waistband slip lower on my hips.

I swear I saw his nostrils flare as he followed the suggestive way I danced, pivoting my hips like they were desperate to feel his hands. My heart thudded unevenly, breathing turning heavy. Beads of sweat dampened my shirt, the cotton sticking to me uncomfortably and making me itch to rip it off my body.

Tugging my thumb free of my pocket, I shoved both hands into the back pockets of my jeans, palms cupping my ass, I turned to give him a better view.

Who am I right now?

It doesn’t matter as long as he likes it.

Following that thought, I glanced over my shoulder, too impatient to see him to wait for my body to rotate.

Someone was on the stage, leaning in to yell into his ear. Jealousy was a mere afterthought because Arsen’s eyes were still mine. No one else can have you.

Despite having only one drink, I was inebriated. Drunk from his attention and suddenly greedy as fuck for more. He liked what he saw. That much was crystal clear, and that approval lit me up inside.

Warning sirens went off in my head, the heinous sound bunching the muscles in my neck and shattering whatever spell had come over me.

This is a bad idea. You can’t handle this.You’rebetteroffalone.

Despite getting the warning, the sound continued to pierce my skull. Cringing, my head dropped between my shoulders, a frivolous and pointless attempt at getting away from my own demons. I went for my AirPods but barely made it to my pocket when I realized I wasn’t the only one affected by the alarm.

Wait. What?

My head shot up. People were wide-eyed and whipping their heads around like ghouls on Halloween. Chaos erupted even as the sirens continued to pierce the night.

Shit. Sirens.

I glanced at Kruger to see if he was hearing them too. Before I even made it to my bro, people started yelling.

“Cops!”

“It’s a raid!”

Several sets of gymnasium doors along the one side shuddered and boomed when they burst in. The wailing sirens turned even louder, drowning out the party music, and red and blue flashing lights competed with the fluorescent green.

“Run!” someone roared.

And then shit hit the fan.