As Sophia stumbled back to her apartment, laughter spilled out of her between bouts of nausea. She was a lightweight when it came to drinking, but that never stopped her from diving headfirst into every party. How would she manage this carefree lifestyle so far from home and without anyone to help her?
Sighing, Violet muttered, "What am I going to do with you?"
Inside Sophia's apartment, silence enveloped the room. While her roommates were out enjoying the weekend, Violet had planned a day of reading in her pajamas. Instead, she found Sophia sprawled on the couch, completely passed out.
After a gentle shakes ophia gave no response, Violet decided to play the caretaker. She headed to the kitchen, determined to make hangover soup. But the fridge only revealed a disheartening stock of sodas and beer. "How can you live like this?" she lamented, rolling her eyes.
"Hey, Soph! I'm heading to the store. Just hang tight; I'll be back soon," Violet called out, her voice echoing through the living room. She heard a muffled agreement from the couch, a sign that her friend was settled in for a cozy afternoon. A small smile spread across Violet's face as she grabbed her keys, feeling a sense of purpose.
Once at the convenience store, she navigated the aisles, carefully selecting groceries to last the two girls for about two weeks. She picked up fresh vegetables, grains, and all the essentials, but her mind was focused on one thing in particular—ingredients for the hangover soup.
She approached the cashier, her heart pounding in her chest. He was a man she recognized all too well, a familiar figure from a past life. As she stood there, staring at him, it felt as if she were seeing a ghost. He was focused on the money left behind by the previous customer, his brows furrowed in concentration.
With each passing second, anxiety gripped her tighter as memories flooded back. It was her ex. She reluctantly placed her basket on the counter, praying he wouldn't recognize her or ask any uncomfortable questions.
Then, breaking the tense silence, he chuckled and looked up, his eyes brightening in recognition. "Well, look what we have here! How have you been, sweet pie?"
As items continued to scan across the register, she kept her head down, every instinct urging her to remain silent, to escape the uncomfortable confrontation. The weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air between them.
"That will be sixty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents. Will that be cash or card?"
As she placed her card in his hand, he seized her wrist, and an unsettling sensation coursed through her—like her skin was trying to escape her body.
"Look, I don't know what they told you, but I never did that," he said, his voice low and insistent. "So come back to me, or do you want me to ask your mom? Come on, angel, don't leave your poor lover in the dust like this."
A wave of disgust washed over Violet as she fought the instinct to lash out, her fist itching to connect with his smug face. She reminded herself of the reputation she had painstakingly built, a fragile construct she wasn't willing to shatter.
"Please scan the card. I have an urgent matter to attend to," she said, her voice steady but laced with tension.
Yanking her hand from his grasp, she watched as he finally relented and scanned the card.
"Fine, if that's how you want it," he countered, his tone dripping with condescension. "But just because you're rich and perfect doesn't mean I won't have a personal meeting with your mom. You really think you can brush this off? Do you honestly believe those words?"
His laughter echoed mockingly in her ears, and the anger simmering inside her threatened to erupt.
Something in violet snapped.
Violet's voice was sharp, slicing through the tense atmosphere like a knife. "Listen, you have a meeting with my mother, and I absolutely will press charges against you. You're disgusting—manipulative, and it's as if you don't have a single thought in that head of yours. I left you for my own well-being and sanity," she spat, her eyes blazing with fury. "Mike, you're a crazy bastard."
Despite the storm brewing in her words, Mike managed to form a smirk, one that felt more like a challenge than a smile. "I will get you back, angel. No matter what," he replied smoothly, his tone dripping with a mix of confidence and menace. "Have a good day."
He turned his attention back to the next person in line, the game of control continuing in the charged silence that lingered in the air.
Back inside Violet's car, she finally felt as though she could breathe again. The heavy burdens of disgust, fear, and lingering emotions had lifted from her shoulders.
When she arrived at Sophia's place, she set to work preparing the soup. Once it was ready, she placed it carefully on the table in front of the couch, alongside a bottle of water. Before leaving, she penned a note, her heart a mix of frustration and affection.
"Sophia, Cassie, Frank,
If you're reading this, it's your best friend, Violet. I hope you remember me when you sober up i will destroy you. You took me through hell, but despite everything, I still love you. I've made some soup for you and left water—no caffeine because I know how you get.
I also picked up some groceries for you and that girl whose name i forgot. It should last about two weeks, so please eat wisely.
Love you."
With that, she stepped out of the apartment, leaving the note behind next to the food and water.
Back on campus on Monday, a charged atmosphere enveloped the students, whispers flitting through the air like secrets too heavy to carry. Violet and Sophia exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the ripples of anxiety that thrummed around them. Suddenly, a friend of Sophia's approached, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with urgency.
"Sophia, have you heard? Mike is coming back. Mike Roberts—the guy who was accused of... you know, doing some awful things with a minor."
At that moment, Violet's heart felt as though it had momentarily stopped. Shock coursed through her, and Sophia immediately noticed her friend's distress. With a gentle nudge, she led Violet to a quieter corner away from prying ears.
"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay," Sophia said soothingly, pulling Violet into a comforting hug.
Violet let out a shaky sigh, her emotions wavering. "I've been through hell already. Why did they accept him back? He literally—" She paused, the weight of her thoughts pressing down on her, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Just then, Ivan peeked around the corner, sensing the charged atmosphere. When he caught sight of Violet's distressed expression, Sophia shook her head subtly at him—a silent representation of the turmoil Violet was experiencing.
With his hands shoved deep in his pockets, Ivan approached them cautiously. "Violet, do you want to head to the cafeteria? They have dumplings right now."
Sofia shot him a grateful look, recognizing it as a solid distraction—after all, Violet had a love for dumplings that was hard to resist. As Violet lifted her gaze, a flicker of optimism crossed her features.
"Yes, let's go," she replied, a trace of a smile breaking through the clouds of her worry.
In the cafeteria there was bunch of cuisines that violets love. so thank god ivan told her or it would have still been the worse day for her. even food can lighten up peoples day.
As the group sat around the table, the atmosphere thickened with an uneasy tension. Whispers fluttered through the air like startled birds when Violet turned to see Mike striding toward them. She quickly averted her gaze, focusing intently on Ivan, who raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in energy.
Mike's arrival halted all conversation, and the room fell into a heavy silence. He stopped directly in front of Ivan, a smug expression etched across his face. "Angel, who's this?" he asked, tapping Ivan's head playfully.
Ivan swatted Mike's hand away with a sharp motion, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Surprise flickered across Mike's features—he wasn't used to anyone standing up to him.
"Mike, don't do this here," Violet interjected, her voice trembling slightly as the weight of the situation settled over her.
"Angel, I need to know who this is! What if he steal you, future?" Mike whined, his tone grating on everyone's nerves.
"Mike, just do this later. Not here, please," Violet pleaded, desperation lacing her words.
"But, Angel—" he began, but Ivan had reached his breaking point.
"Hey, she said to do this later! Why don't you take your business elsewhere and stop calling her 'Angel'? It's annoying." His voice was steady, a calm presence in the storm.
Mike's grin widened, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Who are you to tell me what to do with my future? The audacity is insane. Pale, learn to stay out of people's business. Violet, get up. Let's talk outside." He reached for Violet, grasping her arm firmly.
"Don't touch her! She has nothing to do with you anymore!" Sophia interjected, rising from her seat in a protective stance.
Mike scoffed again, brushing past her words as he continued to grip Violet's arm.
Finally, Ivan stood, towering over Mike. "Let her go," he said, his voice low yet authoritative.
In a moment of reckless defiance, Mike grabbed a plate of food from the table and threw its contents onto Ivan's clothes, the splatter marking the confrontation with chaotic splendor.
Violet's eyes widened in shock. "Oh my God," she whispered, every gaze in the room now locked onto them.
Realizing how quickly the situation was escalating, Violet felt a chill run down her spine, anxiety propelling her heart into a frantic rhythm. The tension crackled, and she knew that whatever happened next would change everything. She was SPOOKED.