Scandal & Scholarship

Chapter 10 (Ambrosia's POV)

We step through the wide doors into a lavish, two-story house pulsing with life. Music is blasting from all corners, vibrating through the floor. Bodies fill every space—people dancing wildly, drinks in hand, some playing games, others locking lips in darkened corners. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and adrenaline.

"And exactly who invited us here, and whose place is this?" I ask Lily, my voice barely cutting through the noise.

"Ethan invited both of us," she replies nonchalantly, "and this place belongs to the Nightshades."

I freeze. "Lily, are you for real? You brought me here knowing the whole fiasco with Alexander and Seraphine?"

"Chill, girl," she says, waving it off like it's no big deal. "Nothing's gonna happen anyway, and everyone's forgotten about you kneeing Alex in the groin."

"I don't think anyone's forgotten," I say dryly, my eyes darting around to the stares. The whispering, the pointed glances... they haven't moved on. I feel like a zoo exhibit. "People are definitely still talking about it."

Lily grins, pulling me along. "Let's go get some drinks. Loosen up."

I sigh. "Yeah, I'm gonna need a drink or two just to survive this party."

After three drinks, I feel the warmth of the alcohol take over, my inhibitions melting away. Lily and I stumble to the dance floor, laughing, the bass of the music pounding in my chest. For the first time in a long time, I feel free. Too confident. Maybe even reckless.

As I sway to the beat, something catches my attention—a stare, sharp and focused. I look in its direction and lock eyes with Alexander. His gaze lingers for a moment before he quickly shifts it back to his friends. My stomach tightens in heated way and I feel goosebumps on my whole body.

I turn my attention back to Lily enjoying herself. Suddenly I feel hands, groping, invading my space. My breath catches in my throat. I whip around to find a tall, disheveled guy I've never seen before, clearly too drunk to stand straight. His glazed eyes roam over me, and my skin crawls beneath his grip.

"Let go!" I shout, pushing him away, panic rising in my throat. My mind flashes to another time, another man—my father, his hands rough and violent.

Lily's beside me in an instant, shoving the guy harder, but he's clinging, stumbling closer. The crowd around us shifts, a murmur of tension spreading.

Ethan appears, calm and composed as ever, trying to de-escalate. "Hey man, that's enough," he says, his voice firm but even.

The guy sways, unsteady on his feet, but doesn't back down. His lips curl into a sneer. "What's your problem? We were just having fun," he slurs, barely able to stand.

Ethan steps in closer, putting distance between the guy and me. "You're done here. Walk away."

But instead of walking, the drunk guy lashes out, a clumsy punch aimed at Ethan's face. It connects. Ethan stumbles back, holding his jaw.

My heart drops, my pulse roaring in my ears. The world narrows, and I feel that familiar sensation—the loss of control, the fear, the helplessness. My father's angry shouts echo in my mind, his fists flying through the air.

Before I can process what's happening, Alexander surges forward. I can see the fury in his eyes, the tension in his muscles as he shoves the guy back with brutal force. Fists fly, bodies collide.

I can't breathe. I don't want this. I don't want violence. Not again.

"Alexander, stop!" My voice cracks, but it's swallowed by the chaos around us. People are shouting, trying to pull them apart, but it's too late. Alex is already on top of the guy, his fists pounding into him, relentless, unforgiving.

A cold sweat breaks over my skin as I watch. I hate this. My stomach churns, the memories of my father's violence flashing before my eyes. How quickly things can escalate. How easily something like this can spiral out of control.

For a moment, I'm not at this party. I'm in my childhood home, watching helplessly as my father destroys everything in his path. I want to run. To hide. But my feet are frozen, rooted in place as I watch Alexander beat the guy to pulp.

I can't watch this anymore. My heart races, the pounding in my chest almost louder than the music. The sight of Alexander, his fists still flying, the way the drunk guy is barely even defending himself—it's too much. The room spins, and I can feel the panic rising, threatening to overwhelm me.

"STOP!" The word rips from my throat before I even realize I'm screaming.

Everything halts.

The music, the shouting, the laughter—it all comes to a jarring stop as my voice slices through the chaos. For a moment, it's like the world stands still. Dozens of eyes turn toward me, wide with shock. The room feels suffocating, everyone watching, the weight of their stares pressing in on me.

I can't breathe.

With a panicked gasp, I push through the crowd, my feet carrying me toward the nearest door. The whispers start as soon as I pass, but I can't hear them. All I can hear is the pounding in my head, the panic choking me.

I stumble into an empty room's bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me and emptying my stomach's content. The music, the noise, the party—it all fades behind the thick walls. I slide down against the door, my breathing ragged. My hands are shaking.

I just need a minute. Just one moment to feel like I'm not drowning.