chapter ten.

[the silence of the crown]

Maths is the only hour of the day where James Leonard doesn't exist. He’s in a different set, or today, he’s out of school entirely for some appointment. Without his constant, high-frequency noise, the classroom felt strangely empty. It felt like reality was trying to grow back in the cracks.

I looked over at Sarah. She was staring at her compass, but she wasn't drawing circles. She was just stabbing holes into the paper.

"He's not here, Sarah," I said. My voice felt loud in the quiet room. "You don't have to pretend you're having 'fun' today."

Sarah didn't look up at first. Her shoulders were hunched. "He says I'm his best friend, Liam. He says Anne was the one holding us back."

"Anne was the one keeping us sane," I countered. "Look at the group. Look at what’s left of us."

Warren, who usually spends Maths trying to sleep, actually sat up. He looked at Sarah, then at me. "It’s been a bit much, hasn't it? The video of William... I felt sick posting it. James told me it would make us look like the 'main characters,' but we just looked like bullies."

Then Brenda spoke. Brenda, the girl who had been James's shadow for weeks. Her eyes were red. "We had an argument this morning. Before he left. I told him I missed the way things were, and he... he told me I was 'losing my spark.' He told me if I didn't stay 'vibrant,' I’d end up like Anne."

The room felt cold. The manipulation was finally visible, like a spiderweb caught in the light.

"He’s not a friend," I said, looking at all of them. "He’s a ghost story we all decided to believe in."

Sarah finally looked at me, and a single tear tracked through her highlighter. "What do we do? He'll be back tomorrow. He'll scream and he'll hug us and it'll all start again."

"No," I said. "It ends now."

I pulled out my phone. My hands weren't shaking. I felt steady. I felt like the "corpse" was finally coming back to life. I opened the chat with the name I had grown to loathe. To: James Leonard

Liam: You’re being kicked, James. Don't come back to our table. Don't text us. We’re done being your project.

I didn't wait for the bubbles to appear. I didn't wait for the "HI LIAM!!!!!" or the victim act.

[OPTIONS: BLOCK USER?]

[YES]

I looked at Sarah, Warren, and Brenda. One by one, I watched them do the same. The classroom was silent, but for the first time, it wasn't a lonely silence. It was the sound of a circus tent finally collapsing.

chapter eleven.

[the boomerang effect]

I thought the silence would last. I actually believed, for about twenty-four hours, that the world had reset.

I was wrong.

I was standing by the bike sheds with Flora, Warren, and Lizzie. Lizzie is in our English set—she’s blunt, wears too much eyeliner, and usually has a better "bullshit detector" than anyone I know. We were just existing, enjoying the lack of screaming, when Warren stopped mid-sentence.

"Is that..." Warren squinted toward the quad. "No way."

I followed his gaze. My stomach did a slow, sickening somersault.

There, in the center of the concrete, was James. He wasn't doing slut drops. He wasn't screaming. He was sitting on a bench, looking small and humble, with his head bowed. And sitting right next to him—the two people I thought were safe—were Anne and William.

Sarah was there, too, standing behind them like a bodyguard.

"Is he... crying?" Lizzie asked, crossing her arms. "Are you actually kidding me? After he got William excluded?"

"We need to know," Flora whispered. She looked like she wanted to run away, but her curiosity was winning.

We waited until James left to go to the office. We cornered them by the lockers—a private, shadowed corner of the hallway where the teachers don't look.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I didn't mean for my voice to sound so sharp, but the sight of them together felt like a betrayal of physics. "Anne? William? He literally tried to ruin your lives."

Anne looked at me. She didn't look brainwashed; she looked exhausted. "He apologized, Liam. He came to my house. He cried for two hours. He said he’s had a really hard time at his old school and he just... he didn't know how to handle having real friends."

"He's a parasite, Anne," I said, repeating William’s own words back to him.

William wouldn't look me in the eye. He just shuffled his feet. "He’s paying for the train tickets for the beach trip. He said he’ll tell the office it was all a misunderstanding so the exclusion gets wiped. He’s trying to make it right."

I turned to Sarah. Out of everyone, I thought she had seen the truth in Maths. "And you? You blocked him, Sarah. We all did."

"I'm just looking out for them, Liam," Sarah said, her voice defensive and flat. "If Anne and William are going to forgive him, I have to be there to make sure it doesn't happen again. I can’t just leave them alone with him."

"So you're going back into the cage to watch the lion?" Lizzie snapped. "That’s not 'looking out' for them. That’s just joining the circus."

"You don't understand," Anne said. "He needs us."

I looked at the four of them—Flora, Warren, Lizzie, and me. We were the "leftovers" now. The ones who saw the strings. Across the hall, James was walking back from the office. He saw us. He didn't wave. He just gave us a small, sad, "forgiven" smile.

It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. He hadn't just regained his power; he’d made himself the victim again.

"He’s not sorry," I whispered, but they were already walking away to join him.

The group was split. The infection was back. And this time, it was wearing a mask of "kindness."

chapter twelve.

[the divide]

I didn't want to be a leader. I hate leading. It requires a level of "presence" that I usually try to avoid at all costs. But silence wasn't working anymore. If I stayed quiet, James would just keep absorbing people like a black hole until there was nothing left but him and a bunch of hollowed-out shells.

I cornered Anne and William behind the sports hall. The air smelled like damp concrete and old gym mats.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked. My voice was flat, but I felt like I was vibrating.

"He apologized, Liam," Anne snapped, her eyes red. "He was literally shaking. He’s had a rough time, okay? Not everyone is as cold as you."

"Cold?" I laughed, and it felt like glass breaking in my throat. "I'm cold because I don't want my friends to be his literal playthings? William, he got you an exclusion. He sat there and watched you get dragged into the office and he didn't say a word to stop it. He started it. He poked and poked until you snapped, just so he could play the victim."

"He said he was scared," William muttered, looking at his shoes. "He said he didn't know how to handle it."

"He’s full of shit!" I shouted. The sound echoed off the brick walls. "He’s not scared. He’s bored. There’s a difference. He’s using you to fill the silence in his own head, and you're letting him ruin your lives because he did a bit of fake crying? It’s pathetic. It’s actually pathetic."

"Don't call us pathetic," Anne hissed.

"Then stop acting like it! Look at the facts. Look at the group. We were fine before he showed up. Now we’re a bloody disaster."

It went on for twenty minutes. A jagged, ugly circle of "but he said" and "he’s changed." But eventually, the logic started to win. I saw the moment the spell broke on William’s face. He realized he was being played by a guy who wouldn't even stand up for him when it mattered.

They finally walked away from his table. They came back to our side—joining me, Flora, Warren, and Lizzie. It should have felt like a victory.

But Sarah stayed.

I watched her from across the room. She was still hanging out with him, her face set in this grim, stoic mask. She thinks she’s being the "big person." She thinks she’s looking out for Anne and William by keeping an eye on the "enemy," even though they aren't even there anymore.

When I look at them now, I see two completely different people.

I see James—the version Anne and William finally escaped. The one who uses words like weapons. And then I see the version Sarah is still stuck with. To the rest of the school, they look like a duo. To me, it looks like a hostage situation.

The common room is officially split. We have our corner, and James has his. But James doesn't have a group anymore. He just has Sarah. And God, she looks like she’s disappearing.

chapter thirteen.

[the narrative shift]

James Leonard doesn’t just break people; he rewrites history.

By the next morning, the "truth" had changed. Warren and Brenda weren't sitting with us anymore. They were back at the center of the neon light, laughing at something on James’s phone. The rumor had spread like a virus: Liam is the problem. Liam is the one who wants the group to fail so he can be the only person left.

James sat there, surrounded by the people I had tried to save, looking like a peacemaker. "It’s so much quieter now, isn't it?" I heard him say as I walked past. "No more arguing. No more... negativity."

I felt sick.

As I headed toward the library, a hand landed on my shoulder. I spun around, expecting a fight, but James was just standing there, looking genuinely sad. It was his best performance yet.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Liam," he whispered, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "You really could’ve just joined us. We wanted you there. But you just couldn't help yourself, could you? You had to try and tear it all down."

"I wasn't tearing it down," I spat, shaking his hand off. "I was trying to show them the floor was rotting. But you’ve painted over it, haven't you? You're a liar, James. A bored, pathetic liar."

He just smiled—that soft, pitying smile that makes you want to scream.

Behind him, I saw William and Anne watching us. I saw the doubt in their eyes flicker and die. They looked at James, then at me—the guy who was shouting, the guy who looked "unstable."

"Liam, just stop," William said, stepping toward James. "He’s right. It is easier this way."

"William, no—"

But they were already moving. Anne took James’s side, and William followed. They had gone back. The gravity of the "Circus" was too strong, and I was just a ghost trying to pull them into the cold.

I couldn't breathe. I turned and ran—not toward the library, but toward the quad. I needed air. I needed something real.

I saw them by the old oak tree. Oliver and Ethan. They weren't part of the Circus. They weren't part of the noise. They were just two people in their own world. And then, it happened. Ethan reached out, cupped Oliver’s face, and kissed him.

It was quiet. It was beautiful. And it felt like a door slamming in my face.

The world tilted. I had lost the group, I had lost the argument, and now, the one person who represented the silence I loved was officially gone.

I ran.

I heard Flora calling my name from somewhere behind me—"Liam! Liam, wait!"—but I didn't stop. I couldn't let her see me like this. I ducked behind the PE block, through the fire exit, and into the shadowed corridor near the old labs.

I wasn't alone.

Sarah was there, leaning against a radiator, staring at nothing. She looked up when she saw me, her face pale.

"Why?" I choked out, my voice cracking. "Why did you do it, Sarah? Why did you let him take them back? Why are you still standing there watching him burn everything?"

Flora’s voice was still echoing in the distance, searching for me, but the only person I wanted an answer from was the one who was still standing in the middle of the fire.