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FORTY-TWO

SILAS

I t’s Halloween night.

I tug at the collar of my black dress shirt in an attempt to feel less suffocated. The facade of president is one that must exude authority, commanding attention in every room I walk into. It’s exhausting.

Don’t get me wrong. I love being DSN president. Out of all of us, I was best suited for the job. Maybe it’s because my father was also president during his time at AGU, and I was born to be his clone.

My orange stitch mask rests on my leg, the eerie, jagged lines catching the dim light. My fingers drum a restless rhythm against the arm of the chair as I sit, waiting, trying to keep my cool. But the clock is ticking, and with each passing minute, my patience wears thinner.

Halloween is a huge deal at AGU.

It’s not just another night to party—it’s the night. Each one of the frats contributes in some way, setting up the elaborate event. But this year, it’s different for me. It’s the first year I’m showing up not just as one of the guys, but as the president of my own fraternity.

My palms are sweaty, a subtle reminder of the anxiety I’m trying to suppress. I hate being late. It grates on my nerves, makes me feel out of control. I glance at the clock on the wall; the seconds ticking away. Where the hell are they?

My mind is fractured in a dozen different directions, each one pulling me into a different emotion. There’s the excitement—tonight is our night to show off. We’ve been planning this for weeks.

We stand united, a quintet of destruction.

We will not falter.

My phone rings on the coffee table. I glance at the screen and see my dad’s name flash across it. Fueling my irritation—of all times, why now? But I answer, anyway, trying to keep my voice even. “Hey, Dad.”

“Silas,” he greets me, his tone it’s usual disdain for having me as a son. “Are you ready for the party?”

“Yeah, just waiting on everyone else,” I reply, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We should be heading out soon.”

“Good. Will Dayton and Levi be at the party tonight?”

“Yeah, they’re both coming. We’re all heading out together in a few minutes.”

There’s a pause on the other end. “Make sure you all stay together, Silas. Don’t let them out of your sight.”

I freeze, the odd request sending a chill down my spine. “What’s this about?”

“Just... be careful. Watch each other’s backs.” He doesn’t offer any more details, and I can tell he’s not going to. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The line goes dead before I can ask anything else, and I’m left staring at the phone, a frown etched on my face. His words echo in my mind, triggering the unease I’ve been trying to ignore.

I shove the phone back into my pocket and head toward the stairs, calling out to the others. “Come on! OCK is going to drink up all the booze at this rate!”

I can hear faint sounds from upstairs—footsteps, muted voices, the occasional laugh. They’re still getting ready, taking their sweet fucking time.

Unable to take it any longer, I head upstairs. The closer I get to Sable’s self-declared room, the more I can hear Dayton’s voice, light and playful. I push open the door without knocking.

Sable is standing in front of the mirror, adjusting her bright pink strapless bodycon dress. She looks stunning; the fabric hugging her curves in all the right places. But what catches my attention more is Dayton, standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he grins at their reflection.

He’s got that goofy smile on his face, the one he always uses to get her to laugh. He’s dressed in a similar suit to mine, the yellow Purge mask he’ll be wearing later perched on the dresser beside them.

His hands start to wander, fingers tracing along her sides, dipping lower, his touch becoming more suggestive. He presses a slow, lingering kiss to her neck, his voice dropping to that low, seductive tone he knows drives her crazy. “You look stunning, babygirl,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against her skin. He’s trying to start something, clearly not caring that we’re running late.

Sable’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, leaning into his touch, clearly affected by him. Her lips part slightly, and for a second, I think she might forget about the time altogether.

But right now, he’s not focused on getting ready. No, he’s too busy trying to feel our girl up.

“Day—”

Sable looks at me through the mirror. Her stunned reaction resets the mood, but Dayton’s relentless, leaning closer, nuzzling her neck as he murmurs something in her ear. Whatever he says makes her smile, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

That’s when Levi strides into the room, his green mask hanging loosely between his fingers. “Really, Day?” Levi says, his tone flat, with just a hint of annoyance. “Now’s not the time.”

Dayton pulls back, his hands reluctantly leaving Sable’s waist as he turns to face Levi. “Guess we’ll have to pick this up later, babygirl,” he says, giving Sable a wink before finally stepping away.

I can see the flutter in her chest, the way her breath catches from Dayton’s touch. But she knows Levi’s right. She swats at Dayton playfully, a small smile still tugging at her lips, before turning back to the mirror to finish the last touches on her outfit.

I lean against the doorframe, watching the exchange, the impatience gnawing at me. I can’t help but feel like I’m the only one who’s really thinking about tonight, about what it means, about everything that could go wrong. The others seem so... calm, so nonchalant, like it’s just another night out. But it’s not, and I know that in my gut.

“Let’s get moving,” I finally say, pushing off the doorframe. “We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

Sable nods, giving herself one last glance in the mirror before turning to join us. Dayton grabs his mask from the dresser, still looking far too pleased with himself. Levi just shakes his head, but there’s a small, almost imperceptible smile on his face as he turns to lead the way out of the room.

Kai meets us in the kitchen. His teal mask placed on top of his head. When he sees Sable, he walks up to her, cupping her face in his hands and pressing his lips hard against hers. When she is thoroughly kissed, he lets go of her, but I can see the reluctance he has letting her go.

I take in the sight of us—four guys in all-black suits, each one sharp, tailored, and identical except for the different-colored masks. We don’t typically like to do costumes for any party, so the mask adds a nice touch.

Everyone loves a masked man.

I turn to Sable with a small smile, trying to gauge her reaction. “So, this is kind of our tradition.”

“And this year,” Dayton says, stepping forward with something in his hand, “we got our girl a little something.” He holds out a pink mask, the same design as ours but in a color that matches Sable’s dress. There’s something almost symbolic in the way he hands it to her, like we’re officially welcoming her into our world. I watch her closely, trying to read the expression on her face as she takes it from him. “For you, babygirl,” Dayton says.

She takes the mask, turning it over in her hands, and I can see the realization in her eyes. She understands what this means, that this isn’t just about wearing a costume—it’s about being one of us. It’s about belonging.

“No one has worn a mask with us,” Levi adds.

Sable beams a smile at all of us. “Guess that means we can’t be the four horsemen, then.”

I let out a laugh. “We’ll find some other dumb name for everyone to call us.”

“Right now they’re calling us murderers.” Kai scratches the back of his head.

Sable’s smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t back down. Instead, she squares her shoulders, as if accepting the gravity of the situation.

“Then it means they better not fucking mess with us,” she says.

“Are you ready?”

She nods, slipping the pink mask over her face. The guys follow suit, each of us donning our masks like armor, readying ourselves for whatever the night will bring.