When Taren looked out of his bedroom window, he was greeted by his own reflection; it was too dark to make out anything else. Left without a distraction, he reluctantly turned over the page of the textbook Principles of Management. The glossy paper had a plasticky feel to it and reflected the light from his desk lamp which didn’t make reading the assembly of letters, numbers and diagrams any easier. But he still was miles behind in terms of background knowledge so he couldn’t afford to give up. 

Suddenly, Taren halted. Someone was watching him—the gangsters from Ivory Family must have come to dispose of their deserter. Immediately alerted, Taren continued to jot down notes, calm on the outside, but his pulse racing and the sound of his heartbeat thrashing in his ears. His eyes moved hectically, trying to locate the assassins; even the shadow from his wardrobe was suspicious now. It wasn’t death Taren feared but the torture that likely awaited him.

When his phone vibrated, he dropped the pen, his hand quivering. They were here. It was too late to run away and his only choice was facing Ivory Family. Slowly, Taren picked up his phone, carefully reading the message on the display. “Would you mind if I come over to practise playing that game?” 

Ryvan, he realised and exhaled, all of his muscles relaxing at once. It had just been his imagination—the shadows in his room had been playing tricks on him. Ivory’s assassins were silent predators with senses sharper than his, but Taren was presumed dead so there was no reason they would look for him.

Ryvan was the opposite of those gangsters: His presence was calming, like a silken blanket that engulfed all his worries and fears. And it would remain so. Taren would never allow him to fight outside of the game, Ryvan’s fingers would stay pure and innocent forever. “Let’s see whether you can survive for longer than three seconds today,” he typed.  

Before Taren could press send, another message popped up, this time from Leander. “Come here, now.”

Taren sighed, his lips pressed into a white slash. If that bastard Colton had done something again, Fairlight would probably expel them. After the previous incidents, they were already on their final warning as it was. “Where?” he asked, throwing on his black biker jacket. 

Outside, the air was cool and the campus footpaths were well-lit, probably because many students were night owls. Already, Taren could hear party noises from somewhere although it wasn’t even six o’clock yet. 

Leander’s directions lead Taren away from the noises to a dark, deserted shrubby area between departmental buildings and a car park—an odd place for a meeting with the Disciplinary Committee. Perhaps a trap? But even if it was, there was nobody to fear at Fairlight so Taren placed his hands in his pockets.  

Away from the footpaths and shielded by the surrounding rhododendron shrubs from both the streetlights and unwelcome eyes, his destination was a place people would gather to do things that Taren had nothing to do with anymore and didn’t want to either. Colton and Leander were already waiting; Colton paced back and forth and Leander had crossed his arms, staring at the ground.

“Thanks for coming,” a voice from above greeted him coldly. 

Sitting on a brick wall that was red during daytime but now as grey as the rest of their surroundings, was the nerd from his course. Taren acknowledged that he had chosen his location well, his face was unreadable in the darkness and the height of the wall meant he was untouchable for them.

“What’s with that fucker?” It was ridiculous that Taren had to deal with Colton’s and Leander’s mess, whatever it was, instead of gaming with Ryvan. “Sort this out yourselves, I’m busy.”

“You dare to ignore me, Crow,” the idiot on the wall said. “Or should I say: Alexei Stephanov.”

Instantly, Taren’s eyes narrowed. How could some random loser know his real name? He glanced at his companions: Colton’s eyes showed the same confusion as his and Leander still stared at the soil that was littered with leaves and tree debris.

“I’m Wren,” Glasses said. “If you want me to keep your secret, you better listen to me.” 

“Does Ryvan know?” Taren asked but instantly regretted the question. He had given away a weakness he shouldn’t have and the trembling in his voice had made that more than obvious. Even Colton, who wasn’t known to be the brightest, scrunched his eyebrows.

“R- Ryvan?” Wren gasped. “He, I mean… Ryvan—why are you interested in him? If you want me to stay quiet, you better stay away from him!”

Taren exhaled sharply, his weakness was still unexposed but in exchange, he couldn’t ever be close to Ryvan again. Regardless of the sting in his chest, for the moment, he could only accept the conditions thrown at him. “Okay.” 

“I want your assistance,” Wren continued, slightly calmer but his voice still trembling. “Find someone and kill him. His name is Ryan Nightingale and I know he lives near here. You know how to kill someone, right?”  

“It wouldn’t be my first time.” No matter how strange Glasses demands were, Taren had little choice. He was dead if the wrong people got word of his real name. And Ryvan would surely never talk to him again if he found out about the crimes of his past life.

“My mother died because of his stupidity, and never even acknowledged it; he deserves to die.” Wren didn’t say anything but vanished on the other side of the wall. Taren could hear him slowly climbing down a ladder and could only laugh at himself for having to give in to the demands of such a loser.

“That fucking Glasses bastard.” Colton balled his fingers into a fist. “Let’s take him out; corpses don’t talk, ya know.”

“We’ll do as he says for now.” 

“You’re fucking insane, Taren! He’s just some pussy who thinks he can talk big. I ain’t gonna waste my time finding that Ryan fucker.”

The rational part of Taren’s mind agreed with Colton—a rare occurrence—but he couldn’t take the risk. “Don’t worry, I’ll find that Ryan.” 

Nightingale was Ryvan’s and Eric’s surname, and Ryvan and Ryan were too similar for it to be a coincidence, meaning they were probably related. Locating Ryan would be easy but taking him out was another issue. What exactly was his relationship to Ryvan?