Page 32 of Blake University: HBCU Chronicles – Yon & Imole

The bass was thumping through the gym floor like a second heartbeat. The crowd on the other side of the curtain was already hyped, chanting and stomping as the MC riled them up. It was almost time.

stood backstage with his line brothers, Ace and Porkchop, all dressed in black hoodies with the signature gold MΦΨ stitched bold across the front. The soon-to-be Neos were lined up and bouncing on their toes behind them, nervous energy thick in the air.

Ace tugged on his collar, glancing over at .

“You ready to make ‘em cry again? I swear, that last speech you gave at homecoming had Porkchop all emotional.”

“Man, it was allergies,”

Porkchop grumbled, popping a piece of gum in his mouth.

“Y’all act like a bro can’t have feelings.”

laughed, light but distracted. His eyes were scanning the curtain cracks, his mind half on the ceremony and half on Imole. She was out there somewhere in the crowd and he hadn’t let her out of his mental sight since she crossed. Not after everything.

“Yoooooo!”

Gravy’s booming voice came out of nowhere as he jogged up the side entrance, hoodie halfway on and a crooked smile on his face.

“Late as usual,”

Ace clowned, “You bring your line jacket or you tryna flex in that tight-ass hoodie again?”

“Boy, don’t start,”

Gravy chuckled, slapping hands with the crew.

“I’m fashionably on time. Besides, y’all ain’t start without me.”

Porkchop nodded toward the Neos.

“Barely. These babies been pacing like racehorses. You got the roll call?”

Gravy held up the clipboard with a little wave.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got it. Just had to make a stop.”

gave him a once-over.

“You good?”

Gravy gave a wide grin and nodded.

“Always, bruh. We gon’ kill it tonight. But uh…”

he paused, lowering his voice just slightly as they all got ready to take the stage.

“Yo , I need to talk to you. ASAP. As soon as this shit is done.”

The smile slipped from ’s face for a second.

“You sure you alright?”

Gravy shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, but the tension in his shoulders said otherwise.

“Yeah, man. Yeah. Just… something I need to get off my chest. Been sittin’ on it too long.”

Ace narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything.

nodded slowly.

“Alright. After the step, meet me at the chapter house. We’ll talk.”

Gravy gave a tight nod and clapped him on the back. “Bet.”

The lights above flickered once and that was their cue.

Ace turned to the Neos.

“Y’all ready?!”

Ten deep voices shouted in unison, “READY, SIR!”

took one last breath, centered himself, and looked at his brothers.

“Let’s give ‘em a night they won’t forget.”

But in the back of his mind, he knew something was coming and from the look in Gravy’s eyes, it was big. Too big to wait much longer.

Imole and Lala

Imole adjusted her Veta Xi hoodie, trying to steady her nerves as she and Lala made their way back across campus. The chants from the Mega Phi Psi line-crossing ceremony echoed from the gym, full of excitement and energy but Imole’s thoughts were already on high alert.

They rounded the corner by the faculty lot near Jenkins Hall, cutting through a narrow path to shave off a few minutes. That’s when Lala grabbed her arm, yanking her back into the shadows behind the side wall.

“Yo… hold up,”

she whispered.

“Ain’t that Tree?”

Imole’s heart dropped.

There he was; Terrence, standing bold and unbothered in the middle of the lot. His thick black hoodie hung low over his head, but that twisted smirk was unmistakable.

He wasn’t alone.

Across from him, visibly sweating and wringing his hands, was none other than Dean Whitmore, the acting Dean of Student Conduct.

“What the hell is he doing here?”

Imole whispered, pulling her hoodie lower.

“He’s banned. He’s not supposed to be on campus.”

Lala pulled out her phone in a flash.

“Girl, we are not letting this moment go undocumented.”

ducked lower behind the hedges and started recording. From this distance, they couldn’t They catch every word, but the tone was crystal clear.

Dean Whitmore’s voice cracked in desperation.

“Terrence… please, don’t make this worse than it already is. You’ve made your point. You don’t need to involve the Chancellor.”

Tree laughed sharp, cold, and cocky.

“Nah, Dean. I do. See, I got receipts. You think I forgot how you handled that shit last spring? You owe me. You keep your mouth shut about where I am and who I’m seeing, and that little video of yours stays buried.”

The Dean’s shoulders slumped like a puppet cut from its strings.

“This isn’t how things work”

“But it is now,”

Tree snapped, stepping closer.

“I walk when I want. I pull up where I want. You’re gonna make sure the campus cameras look away tonight, right?”

“Terrence…”

The Dean sounded like he was choking on regret.

“This will blow back on both of us.”

Tree smirked.

“Not if you do what I say.”

Imole felt bile rise in her throat. The man who assaulted her, who was threatening Stormii and now apparently blackmailing a university official was untouchable. The one person they thought might protect them had already been compromised.

Lala muttered, “We can’t go to him. Damn…”

“I know,”

Imole whispered, still filming.

“But we’re gonna go around him. This video? It’s our insurance.”

They waited, crouched and still, until Tree finally stalked off into the dark.

Once the coast was clear, they got the hell out of sight.

“Let’s go,”

Imole said breathlessly.

“The show’s about to start and we need to be there. Now. This way, as soon as gets off the stage, we can fill him in on what we saw.”