Chapter 290

As I stepped into my apartment, the echoes of the meeting with John Waters still reverberated in my mind. I felt lost, uncertain of what to do about Timothy's situation. The dimly lit living room welcomed me, but I found no solace in its familiarity.

I slumped onto the couch, the soft cushions providing little comfort. My mind raced, contemplating my next move. Who should I call for advice? What steps should I take? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“Who’s ready for tonight?!?” Aria and Lucas came rushing in, dawning jerseys and foam fingers. Lucas blew a whistle as his eyes zeroed in on me on the couch.

Aria scanned me from head to toe, a quizzical expression on her face. "Why are you still dressed like you just got off work? Timothy's game is tonight, Evie. He's been looking forward to it."

The realization hit me like a sudden gust of wind. Timothy's hockey game! How could I forget?

"I... I forgot," I admitted, feeling a pang of regret. "I've had a lot on my mind today."

Lucas gave me a sympathetic look. "It's understandable. But Timothy's counting on us to be there. He needs our support."

Aria's eyes softened as she sat down beside me. "You feeling okay?"

I let out a long sigh. Despite my inner turmoil, I couldn't abandon Timothy on a night like this. He needed me.

"You're right. I'll go get ready," I said, pushing myself off the couch.

Heading to my room, I shed the office attire, exchanging it for something more casual. Slipping into comfortable jeans and a sweater, I tried to steel myself for the game ahead.

As I emerged from my room, Aria and Lucas were waiting. Suddenly, Lucas came up beside me and started adjusting his hair. “Do you really think Timothy will be up for it tonight? I mean, with everything going on…”

"I'm hopeful," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "He's been practicing hard, and I’m sure his team knows it too. If they actually thought he was guilty, he wouldn’t even get to be out there.”

Lucas nodded, his brows furrowed with worry. "If you say so."

"But you know how social media works," Aria interjected, her tone grave. "Especially when celebrities are involved."

The weight of Aria's words sunk in, and I couldn't shake the unease creeping into my mind. The accusations against Timothy were rampant, amplified by the ruthless nature of the online world.

"Did you hear what they're saying about the baby, Evie?" Aria's voice brought me back to the present. "They're accusing Timothy of killing it too out of malice. I guess it didn’t survive the fall, not that I thought it would."

"I can't believe people are saying that," I murmured.

Aria's concern shifted gears, and it nearly stunned me when she brought up a certain someone. "Have you talked to Scarlett lately? I know she must be broken over this."

The mention of Scarlett stirred a pang of fear within me. I hadn't reached out to her since everything escalated. "No, I've been meaning to. I just... I'm afraid of how she might be feeling about all this."

Aria's expression softened, understanding etched across her features. "I get it, Evie. But she's your friend. She might need you now more than ever."

She was right. Scarlett deserved my support, and I couldn't continue avoiding her. "I'll reach out to her after the game," I promised, though that seemed like the worst thing to do.

Quinton’s arrival interrupted our conversation. He honked from the driveway, signaling it was time to leave for the sports center. As we piled into the car, the buzz of excitement mixed with apprehension hung thick in the air. The drive was quiet, each of us lost in our thoughts.

As we approached the sports center, the scene before us was nothing short of chaotic. A throng of fans swarmed outside, their voices echoing through the air. It seemed as though everyone had an opinion about Timothy, and they weren’t afraid to express it.

Quinton navigated through the crowds expertly, finally finding a parking spot amidst the sea of cars. As we stepped out, the commotion grew louder, the atmosphere charged with emotion.

“Wow, I’ve never seen it this packed,” Lucas remarked, scanning the bustling arena.

Aria nodded in agreement. “It’s like the whole world’s here.”

As we got closer, the hostility in the air seemed to converge towards us. The accusations, the sneers, and the pointed fingers were soon directed at me.

"You!" a voice shouted, cutting through the chaos. "You're still supporting him? Have you no shame?"

"You need to get a backbone, girl!" another voice yelled, the venom in their words biting into the already charged atmosphere.

I stood tall, my jaw clenched. When I tried to speak, the cacophony of voices drowned me out. It was as if reason and logic had been swallowed by the frenzy.

"I'm not his accomplice!" I screamed. "He's innocent!"

But my words were met with scorn and disbelief. The crowd seemed determined to cast blame.

"Stop defending him!" a voice bellowed from the crowd. "He's clearly guilty! And you're still standing by him?"

Quinton acted swiftly, blocking them from my view. "Let's get inside," he urged, his voice firm as he took my arm.

With each step, the hostile murmurs faded into the background, replaced by Quinton's large presence guiding us toward safety.

Finally, we reached the premium seating area, shielded from the uproar below. The chaos remained, but at least here, we were out of immediate harm's way.

"This is insane," Lucas muttered, his voice tinged with frustration. "Why are they blaming you?"

“Haven’t you heard?” I began, the sarcasm seeping in. “I’m his rebound chick, who was just as guilty in taking out Stella as he was. Jealousy must have gotten to me.”

Aria curled her lips in disgust. “How could they even think that? You’ve proven your integrity time and time again. Now, they won’t even let you tell your side of things?”

I offered a weak smile, trying to mask the turmoil within me. "Let's just focus on the game. Hopefully, things will settle down."

As the game's start time neared, I couldn't help but notice the sparse attendance in the arena. The once-packed stands were noticeably emptier, a stark contrast to the fervor we had witnessed earlier.

"Where's Timothy?" Aria asked, scanning the arena in search of him.

My heart raced with worry as I tried to locate him amidst the crowd. I hoped he was okay, that he hadn't succumbed to the relentless pressure he'd been facing.

Before I could voice my concerns, Aria's phone buzzed with a flurry of notifications. Her eyes widened as she scrolled through the barrage of polls and petitions flooding social media, all urging the club to bar Timothy from playing.

"They're really trying to force him out," Aria murmured, her tone filled with disbelief. "This is getting out of hand."

Just as we exchanged worried glances, the entrance to the premium seating area creaked open. In walked Timothy, but instead of his hockey gear, he was dressed in street clothes, an air of defeat hanging around him.

"Timothy, what happened?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.

He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. "I'm not playing the hockey game tonight."