EPISODE 14 — Unexpected Alliances
(Ethan's POV)
The morning sun was pale, barely cutting through the fog of tension that had settled over Avalon University. I leaned against the railing of the dorm balcony, hoodie up, coffee in hand, mind racing faster than I wanted to admit. For the first time in days, the campus felt alive not because of the usual student chatter, but because of a subtle, electric undercurrent—a ripple that suggested someone, somewhere, had noticed more than just the kiss.
My phone buzzed incessantly. I'd tried to ignore it, but eventually, curiosity—and instinct—won. Sliding it open, I froze. A notification from an unfamiliar handle. A video had been uploaded—one I hadn't authorized. One that wasn't the kiss, but close enough to make my pulse spike. It was subtle: a clip from the fountain area, indistinct, but teasing enough to imply proximity, intimacy, and relevance.
I cursed under my breath, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Not again," I muttered. My hand tightened around the phone, knuckles white.
A knock at the door yanked me from my thoughts. Marcus. Calm, precise, already anticipating the storm I felt building. "Morning," he said, entering without waiting for permission, hoodie on, eyes scanning. "We've got a situation."
"Another video?" I asked, voice low.
He nodded, sliding his own phone onto the balcony railing, a faint glow from the screen reflecting in his sharp eyes. "Not exactly. It's a repost, yes—but more… targeted. Whoever uploaded it is testing the waters. Checking the reaction, seeing what sticks. Campus chatter, student forums, whispers. All the usual channels. But this one's not just a prank—it's deliberate."
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. "Of course. Why wouldn't it be?" My gaze drifted across the quad below, scanning students who moved like they were unaware, but who might already be privy to this subtle escalation.
Marcus didn't need to elaborate; the tone in his voice said it all. "We handle this quietly, strategically. No mass announcements. No overreaction. I've already contacted the moderators. But…" He hesitated, lips tightening. "We need to anticipate interference from outside Avalon. Someone who knows the Marshall name, and sees an opportunity."
I felt the weight settle over me again—the shadow of my father, Gregory Marshall. Influence that spanned far beyond these campus walls, capable of erasing problems with a phone call, or creating new ones with the same ease. "Then we escalate carefully," I said, voice firm, despite the tension knotting in my chest. "Marcus, Chloe, Mia… Layla and I stay coordinated. No exposure, nothing unplanned."
He nodded, eyes flicking toward the campus below. "Already in motion. The video will be flagged, reports submitted. Accounts tagged. I can't guarantee it won't spread further, but the major damage is preventable."
Good. Relief hit me like a sudden tide. But only briefly. There was always another wave.
---
I met Layla near the fountain later that morning. The sunlight caught her hair, haloing the same golden chestnut strands I'd memorized days ago. She looked calm, almost serene, yet the tension in her eyes mirrored my own.
"Another one?" she asked softly, as if I hadn't already answered the question in my expression.
I nodded. "Targeted. Someone's testing the waters. Trying to see how far they can push without consequence."
Her brows furrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. "And Marcus?"
"Already handling it. But this isn't just campus chatter. It's deliberate, calculated," I said. The words left a metallic taste in my mouth. "Someone knows the Marshall influence and thinks they can leverage it—or avoid it. Either way, we need to be careful."
She let out a soft breath. "Careful. Always careful with you."
I couldn't help the small, fleeting smile that tugged at my lips. "Careful works," I said. "It keeps us alive. Keeps the chaos from reaching the wrong hands."
Her gaze softened, and for a moment, the tension of the morning seemed to dissipate. "And us?" she asked quietly. "Where do we fit in all this?"
I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "We survive it. Together. Carefully."
The reassurance in my tone was real. But even as I said it, I knew it wouldn't be enough. Someone outside Avalon, outside our controlled environment, was watching. And that someone could escalate at any moment.
---
By noon, Chloe and Mia had joined us, quietly observing the quad and whispering updates. Chloe's energy was frenetic, eyes darting to every student that passed. "I swear, someone's always trying to record you, Layla. Or you, Ethan. Or both of you. Honestly, the universe is relentless."
Mia, serene as ever, gave a faint smile. "Patience. Chaos is temporary. Strategy, coordination—that lasts."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Easy for you to say when you're not the one everyone's staring at—or trying to post about online."
I couldn't help but smirk, despite the situation. "The fewer eyes on us, the better. Marcus is clearing the paths we can't control. Chloe, Mia… your job is support, observation. No risks, no slips. Not today."
The afternoon passed in tense quiet, punctuated only by Marcus's updates. Each time he approached, phone in hand, hoodie drawn up, it felt like a calculated intervention—silent, efficient, protective. The major platforms were removing reposts; whispers on campus had started to die down. Yet, the unease remained. Someone had discovered the gap in the system—the leverage point—and was waiting to exploit it.
---
By late afternoon, I was alone with Layla near the library steps. The golden hour cast shadows across the quad, illuminating students' faces in a soft glow. I allowed myself a rare exhale, letting the warmth of the moment replace the tension that had gripped me all day.
"You know," I said quietly, "even if Marcus handles this, I can't erase the feeling that someone's still out there. Watching. Waiting."
She tilted her head, eyes steady. "Then we make sure they don't get what they want."
I smiled faintly. "And what do we want?"
Her lips curved, teasing. "To survive. To be… us. Carefully, yes. But still us."
I reached for her hand, holding it lightly, grounding myself. "Then that's exactly what we'll do."
The moment was brief, fragile, yet it carried the weight of an unspoken promise. Even in the storm of social scrutiny and calculated chaos, this—us—was untouchable.
---
Evening arrived, and the campus settled into a deceptive calm. I checked my phone—Marcus's messages confirmed the progress. The video reposts had been flagged, accounts reported, and the moderators were cooperating. The ripple had slowed. The storm had abated, at least for now.
A new message appeared, this time from an unknown number. I hesitated, then opened it. The words were simple, cryptic:
"Not everything can be controlled. Be ready."
I froze, pulse quickening. Marcus appeared beside me, hood up, expression unreadable. "This isn't from a student," he said, voice low. "Someone with knowledge, intent, and reach. We need to anticipate, not just react."
I clenched my jaw, the weight of my father's expectations pressing down on me. Careful. Control what you can. Protect what matters. The mantra had never felt so literal, so urgent.
"We prepare," I said finally, voice steady, determined. "Layla, Chloe, Mia… Marcus. Everyone. We don't wait. We act. Together."
Marcus gave a slight nod. "Exactly. And we move strategically. No mistakes. No exposure. Nothing to compromise us."
I turned to Layla, eyes meeting hers in the fading sunlight. "This storm? It's not just over a video anymore. It's bigger. And we'll face it… together."
Her hand found mine again, warm, grounding, unyielding. "Together," she confirmed.
And for the first time all day, the chaos felt like a challenge we could meet. The headlines, the influence, the whispers—they were all elements in a game we were prepared to play. Not recklessly. Not blindly. Carefully. Strategically. And with each step, we claimed the ground that belonged to us.
As night fell over Avalon University, I realized something important: no matter how much power, influence, or intent threatened to shape our world, some things were ours. Some risks were unavoidable—and some people were worth every storm.
And I would fight for them.
Because careful survival didn't mean avoiding danger. It meant facing it—head-on, with the right people by your side.
And tonight, we were ready.
—