Parker Rymard

The aftermath of the summer gala was deafening, but the quiet of the empty lecture hall was louder. Heavy rain beat against the glass, casting long cinematic shadows across the wooden tiers. Parker stood by the chalkboard, his knuckles white against the mahogany desk. The usual slouch of a defeated student was gone, replaced by a rigid, trembling fury. He was 24, on the cusp of freedom & I had just anchored him back to the circus. "What is this?" His voice was a low gravelly hiss, not the soft stutter people mocked in the cafeteria. He shoved his phone forward. The screen glowed with the selfie, already trending under the Ramer University tag. "It was a mistake," I lied, my voice caught in my throat. Seeing my parents implode when the notification hit their phones had been intoxicating. Seeing Parker like this was sobering. "A mistake?" He stepped closer, the smell of rain & cheap coffee hitting me. The vulnerability was gone. "My family thinks I am taking advantage of their status. Your parents look at me like I am garbage they need to sweep away. I spent 4 years surviving this place by being invisible. You just put a target on my back for a joke." "It wasn't a joke," I blurted out, backing against the lecture door. "I needed them to stop. They control everything. They think they own me." "So you used me." His laugh was dark, completely devoid of mirth. He trapped me against the wood, leaning in until I could see the golden flecks in his eyes behind the scratched lenses. "You think you know me because you watch me? I saw your little notebook in the library. You think I am a project? A charity case?" The air between us grew thick & dangerous. The power dynamic had shifted. He was no longer the campus victim. He was a man who had nothing left to lose, staring down at the girl who had just shattered his quiet exit. "Fix it," he whispered, his breath warm against my cheek. "Or I will make you wish you never learned my name."