Daybreak crept into the dorm through thin curtains, pale and quiet. Ember was still in bed, curled beneath her blanket like the world could wait if she ignored it long enough.
It couldn't.
Lily slipped into the room and stopped short when she saw her.
"You're still sleeping?" Lily whispered, scandalized. "Absolutely not."
She crossed the room and shook Ember's shoulder.
"Wake up, sleepyhead. You're going to miss the party."
Ember groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. "I don't want to go."
Lily scoffed and yanked the blanket down. "You don't want to go? Ember, do you know how insane that sounds?"
Ember sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. "I don't even know what to wear. I don't have anything that fits… whatever this is." She hesitated. "It feels like a test."
Lily folded her arms. "This whole school is a test."
She paced the room, animated now. "But this? This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. You get to see how the Goldens live. How they think. How they move."
She leaned closer. "Do you know how many girls would kill for that invite?"
Ember sighed. "What if I don't care?"
Lily froze.
She stared at Ember like she'd just said something illegal.
"Don't say that," Lily said quietly. "Not here."
The weight of it made Ember pause.
"I just…" Ember softened. "I wish we could go together."
Lily's expression flickered—sadness, then resolve.
"And we would have had so much fun," she said. "But you can't back out now. Not after everything."
She reached for Ember's hand.
"You're already in it."
And Ember knew she was right.
——————————————————
The sun was sinking when Lily and Ember pulled into the Mbele estate.
Miss Lidia Mbele and her daughter were a legend in Cape Town—beauty, money, taste. Untouchable. The mansion rose ahead of them in white and green, ultra-modern, all glass and sharp lines, glowing like a palace built for attention.
Luxury cars crowded the driveway. Sports cars. Vintage classics. Chauffeurs opening doors for the city's golden children—artists, models, sons of politicians, heirs with last names that carried weight. Music thumped through the walls, Beyoncé's Baby Boy shaking the ground.
Ember tightened her grip on her gold clutch.
This was a mistake.
She'd worn gold.
A sheer, body-hugging dress that looked like liquid metal poured over her skin. Gold dripping, unapologetic. Black thigh-high boots with gold hardware. Hair slicked back into a regal ponytail. Gold eyeshadow, crystals scattered across her cheekbones like stardust.
All Lily's idea. All Lily's confidence.
Ember inhaled once, steadying herself, then walked inside.
And froze.
Pink.
Everyone was in pink.
Soft blush. Hot pink. Rose. Satin. Silk. Chiffon. All the girls looked radiant.
And Jasmine—
Jasmine was in red.
A slit dress clung to her like water, dangerous and deliberate. She looked unreal. Perfect. Untouchable.
No one wore black. Not a single person.
Ember's stomach dropped.
So that was the game.
The room went quiet—not fully, but enough. Heads turned. Conversations stalled. Eyes followed Ember as she moved through the crowd, gold against pink like a challenge no one expected.
"She almost looks better than Jaz," someone whispered.
"Almost," another voice replied quickly.
Ember was used to stares. She knew how to walk into a room. But tonight, she didn't want attention. It found her anyway.
———————————————————-
Jasmine approached with her two closest friends, both in different shades of red. She held a glass of pink champagne, smile sweet, eyes sharp.
"Oh my God," Jasmine said lightly. "She actually came."
A few laughs followed.
"Welcome," Jasmine continued, tilting her head. "What's your name again?"
Condescending. Polished. On purpose.
Ember didn't flinch. "Don't act like you don't know my name, Jasmine."
For a split second, Jasmine's eyes widened.
Then she grinned.
"Ooh, feisty," she said, amused. Her gaze dragged over Ember slowly. "I still don't know your name…" She leaned closer. "But I hope you have the best time tonight."
She reached out and touched Ember's hair—familiar, invasive.
"If you need anything," Jasmine added softly, "let me know."
The smile stayed.
The warning didn't need words.
Around them, the party surged back to life—but something had shifted.
It had only just begun.
——————————————————-
The dizziness hit Ember all at once.
Not tipsy. Not lightheaded. Wrong.
The room tilted, music warped. Faces stretched and blurred.
A pressure crawled into her skull, thick and invasive, dragging dark thoughts with it—you don't belong here, you shouldn't have come, you're stupid for thinking you could stand with them.
She staggered toward the lounge and collapsed onto a couch.
That was the last thing she remembered.
When awareness returned, it came in fragments.
Pink.
Too much pink.
The smell of expensive perfume and alcohol burned her nose. Her body felt heavy, unresponsive, like she was trapped inside herself. Her vision swam, but she knew where she was.
Jasmine's room.
Bigger than before. Louder. More exaggerated. Like a shrine to excess.
She was slumped in a chair.
Jasmine and her friends circled her, laughing.
Wine splashed over her dress. Sticky. Cold. Someone threw money at her face, bills sticking to her skin. Another girl dumped dirt into her lap, giggling.
Ember tried to move.
Nothing.
"Tch. This is getting boring," Jasmine said, finishing the last sip of her pink champagne. "She's too cooperative."
One of the girls frowned. "You cast a spell on her, Jaz."
"I thought she'd be stronger," Jasmine replied casually, flicking her wrist. "But she's not. Just a random sub with minor luck tendencies."
They burst out laughing.
"Did we do too much?" one asked, suddenly uncertain.
"No," another snapped. "She's not even giving us answers."
"That's why I said there's something about her," a third girl muttered.
Jasmine's smile hardened. "There is nothing about her. She's human. And humans need to be reminded of their place."
She leaned down, staring into Ember's unfocused eyes.
"Next time," Jasmine whispered sweetly, "don't fly too close to the sun."
Darkness swallowed everything.
——————————————————
Ember woke up by the pool.
Cold concrete pressed against her skin. Her head throbbed like it might split open. Her dress was torn, stained, ruined. One boot was gone. The other hung uselessly from her foot.
The mansion was silent. Empty.
She pushed herself up, confused, shaking.
The last thing she remembered was sitting in the lounge.
Headlights swept across the driveway.
Lily jumped out of the car, eyes widening. "I didn't see any missed calls, so I came to check on you… my God. You really partied hard."
"I don't understand what happened," Ember said weakly.
Lily shrugged. "Alcohol. Maybe a little molly. That stuff does wild things."
Ember snapped her head up. "I don't do drugs, Lily."
Lily studied her face, then went quiet. "Then… I'm as confused as you are."
They got into the car. Lily glanced at her again. "Are you okay? Do you remember anything?"
Ember closed her eyes, trying to reach back.
Nothing solid.
Just laughter.
Pink.
And a feeling that something had been done her.
"I can't remember anything," she said.
——————————————————
The next day at school, everything collapsed.
Ember didn't even make it past the courtyard before she felt it. Phones were up. Whispers followed her steps. Laughter snapped behind her like whips.
Videos.
Dozens of them.
Clips of her staggering around the party—eyes unfocused, dress ruined, movements sloppy, voice slurred. Edited. Looping. Shared everywhere.
"Intralog's going crazy," someone snickered.
"So that's the mysterious new girl?" another said. "Yikes."
"I knew it," someone else laughed. "Party rabbit."
The word hit her straight in the chest.
Lily stood beside her, frozen. "Ember… this doesn't make sense. You weren't like that."
Ember opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Where would she even start? That she remembered sitting on a couch? That she woke up by a pool torn apart? That she didn't drink, didn't take anything, didn't lose control?
No one wanted explanations.
A girl walked past her and said it directly to her face, slow and cruel:
"Loser."
Ember turned and ran.
She didn't stop until she reached the garden behind the faculty wing. She collapsed onto a metal chair, breathing hard, hands shaking, chest tight like it might cave in.
Think.
Her head throbbed. Then—
A flash.
A red ring.
The same ring Jasmine wore. Thick. Glossy. Twisting around her finger when she leaned close. The smell of her perfume—sweet, heavy, suffocating. Her voice. Calm. Mocking.
Ember's breath caught.
Her eyes widened in fear.
It wasn't alcohol, drugs or a simple accident. .
It was something much more sinister, dangerous.
And veil covering Paragon began to fall before her eyes.