The days at Crestwood High blurred into an indistinguishable rhythm for Lucas, each one passing like the last. He moved through the hallways, a pale figure among the crowd, a ghost in a sea of faces that never quite saw him—not in the way he wanted.
He hated it, the way they looked at him as though he were something they could possess, a rare artifact for their admiration. His Russian heritage made him stand out, the sharp angles of his face and piercing blue eyes an exotic allure to them. They wanted to talk to him, to be close to him, as if they could somehow own the beauty that came so naturally to him. They'd whisper, compliment his looks, call him different, special—anything to touch what they couldn't have.
Every compliment, every lingering glance, tightened a noose around his throat. He tensed, feeling his chest constrict with the weight of their hidden agendas—some were after the thrill of owning something beautiful, others simply sought to get closer to the thing that they couldn't fully grasp. It was always the same. To them, he was an object to be admired, nothing more than an exotic accessory to their world of dull normalcy.
But to Lucas, they were nothing more than strangers, their fascination empty. He'd grown up with it, that feeling of being seen as little more than a possession, something to be admired from a distance but never truly understood. As a child, it had been his family, their praise and objectification of him and his sister as their "beautiful boy and girl." Now, it was the students at Crestwood, their stares just as invasive, just as shallow.
He wasn't a work of art to be worshiped. He wasn't a thing for them to own or talk about. Yet every glance, every compliment, felt like a reminder of the hollow pedestal they placed him on, a place he could never escape.
---
One afternoon, Lucas sat beneath the oak, the stillness of the moment wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. The rustle of leaves, the distant chatter of students—everything felt like noise, meaningless distractions from his own thoughts.
His mind churned over his recent encounters with Kane and his group. They were relentless, pushing, pulling at him, each interaction laced with an energy he couldn't ignore. Kane, especially, was a strange sort of magnet—each attempt to resist only made him feel more drawn to the pull.
They wanted him. Kane wanted him.
The sound of footsteps snapped Lucas from his reverie. He tensed instinctively, his heart skipping as the familiar figures emerged. Kane and his gang strolled in, casual confidence radiating from them, as if they owned the world and everyone in it. Kane's presence was like an electric charge in the air. But today... there was something else. Something almost subtle in the way he moved, a quiet sincerity in his stride.
No, not sincerity. That was just another trick.
Kane eased himself down beside Lucas, his posture mirroring his own in an almost unsettling way. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken things. Every beat of it dug into Lucas's chest like a weight, the pressure of Kane's gaze like an invisible hand pinning him down.
He could feel the man watching him. Like a predator.
Lucas clenched his fists, willing his body to stay still. His chest tightened, and it wasn't just from the way Kane looked at him. This is stupid. Stop thinking about it, his inner voice sneered, harsh and biting. You know where this goes. It's a trap, you idiot. A stupid, fucking trap.
But it didn't stop the flicker of excitement coursing through him, the sick thrill at the thought of diving headfirst into the chaos. You want this, don't you?
He forced himself to breathe, to not let Kane see. To not let him know how much his heart had quickened, how the tension in his muscles betrayed him. Kane was watching him now, his gaze sharp, reading every flicker of movement beneath the calm facade. But Lucas didn't look back.
"Lucas," Kane's voice broke the silence, softer than expected. "I know you probably think joining us would be a mistake. But we're not just a bunch of troublemakers. We're a family. We look out for each other, because no one else does."
His words were smooth, each one laced with a hint of—an invitation, a challenge. It made Lucas' skin prickle. A family. He had heard the rumors, the whispers about Kane and his group. The violence, the brutality, the way they left destruction in their wake. This is where you'll end up, his human side screamed, urging him to shut it down, to walk away.
But another part of him—one he hated more than anything—wanted to lean into the darkness, wanted to be consumed by it. You belong there, Lucas. You've always belonged there.
Kane paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Lucas's reaction. The intensity of it crawled beneath Lucas's skin. He's onto you. He sees right through you, you sick bastard.
Lucas shifted, trying to hide the clench of his jaw, the way his chest tightened with something too close to excitement. He stared at the patch of grass beneath him, his breath shallow. Just don't look at him. Don't let him know.
"I can tell you've got a lot on your mind," Kane continued, his voice sharpening, the soft facade falling away. "Hell, we all do. Maybe together, we could figure some of it out."
The words hit too close. They gnawed at him, stoking something dark, something raw. Figure it out? With them? With him? The temptation was almost unbearable.
Lucas couldn't help himself. His fist clenched at his side, the sharpness of his nails digging into his palm as his mind raced. Fuck. You want this, don't you?
Kane's eyes flicked briefly to the side, something almost like irritation flashing across his face before he quickly masked it. His smile reappeared, but this time, it felt a little more forced, a little more calculating. "Whenever you're ready," he said, his tone light but underlined with something dangerous. "We'll be around."
The words hung in the air like a promise.
Lucas didn't answer immediately. His throat tightened, his pulse racing in his ears. Kane's presence was suffocating, but it was intoxicating too. Every part of him wanted to say something, to react, to let the tension boil over into something more.
But he stayed still. Don't respond. Don't let him win. Don't make it too easy.
As Kane and his crew began to leave, heading back toward the park entrance, Lucas stayed where he was. His gaze remained fixed on the grass, his mind still spinning with the offer. The idea of belonging—of being part of something that didn't expect him to hide the weight of his mind—had settled in his chest like a fragile thread. What if this is your only chance?
But it was so fucking dangerous. You don't belong there. You know you don't.
Yet, even as Kane's figure disappeared in the distance, Lucas felt the pull—the need to dive in, to see where it went, to lose himself in the chaos that had always called to him.
---
The next day, Lucas found himself back at the park, drawn by something he couldn't quite name. As he walked to the bench, he noticed Kane already sitting in his spot. His gaze locked onto Lucas immediately, studying him like prey. The silence between them stretched, and when Kane's lips curved into something close to a smile, it was far from warm. It was a knowing smile—a smirk that spoke of things unsaid.
Lucas could feel the irritation bubbling up. Kane had promised space, yet here he was, waiting. That was fine, though. This was a game, and Lucas was more than capable of playing along. But there was something different today—a shift in the air, something that made his stomach coil.
Kane's usual swagger was gone, replaced by something more grounded. He looked at Lucas with an almost searching curiosity, as if waiting for something. His voice, when it came, lacked its usual command. It was lighter, inviting, even. "So," he began, his tone oddly casual, "have you thought about what we talked about?"
Lucas paused, the question slamming into him like an iron fist. Joining Kane's group—was that what he really wanted? He could already feel the pull, the intoxicating promise of something more. But he wasn't ready to give up his freedom, not just yet. The thought of belonging to anyone, especially someone like Kane, felt... wrong.
But then again, he wasn't sure why it felt wrong. Kane's world—chaos, power, destruction—had a certain allure, one that gnawed at Lucas's insides. It wasn't the fear that bound him.
His eyes met Kane's, and the question that had been rattling around in his mind came out before he could stop it. "Why do you want me so badly?" His voice was low, but there was an edge to it—a touch of suspicion, curiosity, maybe even something darker beneath the surface.
Kane didn't answer right away, but when he did, Lucas could see the calculation in his eyes. "I see myself in you, Lucas," he said, his voice calm, almost too sincere. "You've got that same edge. The anger. It's not something that just fades. You're different, yeah. But I can tell you're torn—you don't know whether to embrace it or run from it. I get it."
The words hit harder than Lucas expected. Anger. That was something he knew well, something that had made him who he was. But Kane didn't know the full depth of it. He couldn't.
"Think you know how I feel?" Lucas's voice came out sharper than he intended. His hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. "You think you can feel what I feel?"
Kane's gaze never faltered, though his expression hardened slightly, as if preparing for what came next. Then he gave a slow shrug, one that didn't feel dismissive, but understanding in a way that made Lucas's blood run cold. "Maybe I can't feel exactly what you feel. But I'm willing to take the risk. I'm offering you a way out. A way to stop carrying it all alone."
The words echoed in Lucas's mind, the idea of being understood—really understood—something so foreign to him it almost made him sick. His life had always been his burden, his darkness to carry. And yet, the thought of sharing it... it didn't repulse him. It gnawed at him, twisted something deep inside.
He swallowed hard, the unease rolling through him like a tide. What was it about Kane that made him question everything? Why was this offer, so close to a trap, so tempting?
The silence between them thickened, Lucas standing on the edge of a precipice. Part of him wanted to turn away, to reject the pull that Kane had on him. But another part, the part that had been buried for so long, wanted to dive in, to see how far this could go.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice steady but heavy with something he couldn't quite place. "Alright." It was a simple word, but it held weight. "I'll join you."
Kane's lips curled into a small smile, the kind that felt too knowing, too relieved. For the first time since their conversation had started, something real flickered in his expression. "Good choice, Lucas." His tone was lighter now, almost approving. "Welcome to the team."
For a moment, Lucas stood there, feeling the gravity of the decision settle over him. He wasn't sure if he was making the right choice, or if there was even a choice to make anymore. But standing here, with Kane's eyes on him, he knew there was no turning back.
Before Lucas could fully grasp the weight of what he'd just agreed to, Kane sprang into motion, grabbing him by the arm with surprising force and pulling him to his feet. The suddenness caught Lucas off guard, but he rose, a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The grip around his shoulder was firm, almost possessive, but there was something undeniably genuine in it.
"Come on," Kane urged, his voice a mixture of eagerness and satisfaction. "Let's get moving."
As they walked through the park, Lucas could feel Kane's presence at his side—dominant, but somehow welcoming, like the storm that followed a calm. Kane's arm was draped over his shoulder, fingers brushing against his shirt, and for a moment, Lucas almost allowed himself to sink into the comfort of the contact. Almost.
They passed a group of students near the entrance to the park, their eyes flicking nervously at Kane and his crew. Lucas watched them, detached, his face a perfect mask of indifference. Some flinched, some stiffened, and a few stared, wide-eyed and unsure.
Kane noticed, his eyes never leaving Lucas. The smirk on his lips deepened, but Lucas didn't flinch. He didn't feel the need to. His gaze remained neutral, uncaring. Inside, though, there was a flicker of something darker—a quiet satisfaction that they were the ones being watched for once.
Kane leaned closer, his breath warm against Lucas's ear. His voice was low, barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of something sinister. "Nothing fazes you, huh?"
Lucas tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile. There was a trace of amusement in it, but it was layered with something far darker. "Maybe I'm just getting started," he said, his voice a mix of cool detachment and something that could have been madness.
Kane's expression shifted, the playful glint fading, replaced by something more dangerous—more intrigued. The excitement in his eyes told Lucas everything he needed to know. He was already fascinated by what Lucas was becoming.
Kane chuckled, the sound low and dark. "I think I'm gonna like having you around," he said, his grip tightening just a little on Lucas's shoulder.
And for the first time in a long while, Lucas couldn't deny that part of him felt the same. There was something thrilling about it all—about Kane, about the darkness that was starting to bloom inside him. He wasn't sure where this path would lead, or what it would make him, but he felt the pull of it, felt himself getting closer to something that could make him whole.