Chapter 2
In that instant, the entire lounge fell silent as if time had frozen.
I stared at Felix, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs. The same face, the same features, even the same eye color—but why did it feel completely different?
Tristan always carried himself like royalty, standing in spotlights, accustomed to everyone looking up to him. But Felix... there was something gentle yet resolute in his gaze, like that reading lamp that never went out in the late-night library.
"My brother just proved he could play along." Felix walked toward me slowly, his voice soft but each word reaching every ear in the room.
I could feel the held breath of everyone around us. Amy gripped my arm so tightly her nails nearly broke skin.
"Felix, what the hell are you doing?" Tristan's face turned ashen as he shot up from the couch.
Felix didn't turn to look at his brother, just kept walking toward me. "It's just a game, isn't it?"
"Holy shit, the brothers are gonna throw down..." someone whispered behind me.
"This is getting crazy..."
I bit my lower lip, feeling every burning gaze focused on me. Anger, humiliation, and the desire for revenge churned in my chest. Tristan could casually kiss Celeste without a care—why couldn't I?
Felix had reached me now, close enough that I could smell the faint scent of mint detergent on his clothes. Not Tristan's preferred expensive cologne, but something simple and clean—the smell of real life.
Everyone had formed a circle around us, like spectators in a Roman colosseum waiting for blood. The music had stopped completely, leaving only rapid breathing and heartbeats weaving through the air.
"Fine." I lifted my chin, my voice steadier than I'd expected. "I can play along."
Amy gasped beside me. "Ophelia..."
"Oh my God, are they really gonna..." excited murmurs erupted from the crowd.
"This is insane!"
Felix reached up to touch my cheek. His hand was warm, the touch so gentle I almost forgot this was supposed to be a revenge game.
He slowly leaned down, and I could see every individual eyelash. Just when everyone expected what would happen next, Felix suddenly stopped.
Two seconds.
He simply gazed at me quietly, something in his eyes I'd never seen in Tristan's—focus, tenderness, and... concern?
"I won't let you do something you'll regret out of spite," he whispered, so softly only I could hear.
My heartbeat went completely off rhythm.
"Enough!" Tristan's furious voice shattered the weird silence. "What the hell is this?"
Felix slowly straightened, turning to face his brother. "Didn't you just say this was only a game?"
"That's different—"
"How is it different?" Felix's tone remained calm, but I could hear the edge beneath it. "Because earlier you were the one playing, and now it's someone else's turn?"
Tristan's face flushed red, his fists clenched. All the students around us stared stupidly at the twin brothers, no one daring to speak.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I could feel everyone's eyes bouncing between the three of us, waiting for the next explosion.
That's when Tristan did what he always did—took control by force.
"Have you had enough?" He grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me toward the hallway. "You've been targeting Celeste all night, and now you're using my own brother to spite me?"
The hallway was dimly lit, voices and laughter drifting from inside the room. Tristan's grip was so tight it hurt, but I refused to show weakness.
"Oh, so now you care?" I laughed coldly, yanking my arm free. "How is it that you can do whatever you want, but I can't?"
"This is completely different! Celeste and I have known each other since we were kids—"
"And that makes it okay to kiss her at your girlfriend's birthday party?"
Tristan opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, Celeste appeared in the doorway. She was leaning against the frame, one hand on her stomach, her face pale as paper.
"I feel so sick..." she said weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Tristan, could you walk me back to my dorm?"
'Oh, give me a fucking break.' I thought. 'That performance is way too obvious.'
But Tristan was totally buying it. He looked at me, then at Celeste, then back at me. I could see the calculation in his eyes—girlfriend having a reasonable argument versus childhood friend in apparent distress.
The hesitation lasted exactly three seconds.
Three seconds that told me everything I needed to know about where I stood in Tristan Montgomery's priorities.
"Okay, I'll walk you back." He moved toward Celeste without another glance at me.
My heart sank to my stomach.
"Tristan..." Amy had followed us out, trying to intervene.
"It's fine." I held up a hand to stop her. "You guys keep partying. I'm heading back to my room.
I turned to leave, done with all of them, but Felix stepped into my path.
"I'll walk you back."
"No need, thanks." I tried to go around him, but he gently caught my wrist.
"There are some things you should know the truth about."
That sentence made me stop in my tracks. I looked up at him, trying to read something in his eyes, but Felix's expression was too calm, like a mirror reflecting my inner confusion.
"What truth?"
Felix glanced back at Tristan, who was now supporting a dramatically weakened Celeste.
"Tomorrow at 2 PM. Meet me at the psychology lab." He paused, and his next words hit me like a physical blow. "I'll tell you the truth about what happened in the library three years ago."
The world stopped spinning.
The library. Three years ago.
That memory had been tucked away in a special corner of my heart—my first week at this intimidating elite university, feeling lost and overwhelmed.
I'd hidden in the psychology building's library, trying to study but mostly just trying not to cry.
A student had found me there, helped me with my research, told me my ideas about literature were brilliant. He'd been so kind, so encouraging, so different from everyone else at this place.
For one afternoon, I'd felt truly seen and valued.
That encounter had shaped my idea of what genuine connection could look like. It was part of why I'd been drawn to a certain type of person—gentle, thoughtful, real.
It was also part of why Tristan's face had seemed familiar when I first met him at that freshman mixer.
But now Felix was talking about it like he knew something I didn't.
"How do you..." I started, but my voice came out as barely a whisper.
Felix released my wrist and took a step back. "There's a lot you don't know, Ophelia. About that day, about... other things."