Victim

Don't break her heart, Ky

Kylie's POV

When I open the door, I'm met by an angry and half-asleep Ruby, perched in a chair like she's waiting for an intervention. It feels like I'm sixteen again, getting caught sneaking back in.

"Where were you last night?" Her voice is cold, each word dropping like a stone into silence.

I sigh. "I'm really not in the mood for this, Ruby."

"Sit down." Her eyes narrow, her glare cutting through me like steel.

Mumbling under my breath, "Jeez, I'm not a baby," I shuffle toward my bedroom. I freeze when I spot a bucket next to my bed, and Gatorade and some aspirin on my nightstand.

"Oh, really?" she snaps, mocking. "Because turning off your location and ignoring every single call—yeah, that seems pretty childish to me."

I gulp, feeling her words like a physical weight. Silence feels like the safest option here.

"Did...did you put this here?" I ask, motioning toward the nightstand.

"Yeah, Kylie. After you called me, practically slurring, saying you didn't feel well and asking me to pick you up, I thought you'd need it. Then I drove to the party to pick you up, but you were nowhere."

A pang of guilt twists in my chest, sharp and cold. Making her worry like that wasn't my intention. "I'm sorry, Ruby—"

She cuts me off, frustration thick in her voice. "Oh, I'm not done yet. Do you know how worried I was? I called Josh out of bed, in tears, panicking because I couldn't find you." She clenches her fists, her voice wavering as tears start to well up. "I called Dior, Morgan, Peder, your victims and yes, all of them, your dad. I even almost called your mom, Kylie."

I look down, my voice barely above a whisper. "I was just...at a friend's."

Her eyebrow raises skeptically. "What friend, Kylie?"

"Just...a friend. Look, I'm sorry I made you worry, but I really need to shower. I'm running late."

"For what?" Her anger flickers, giving way to mild curiosity.

A small, cocky grin sneaks onto my face. "Coffee with Malia."

Ruby's expression softens, her anger dissolving into intrigue. "The girl Dior was talking about?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"Already calling her 'the one,' huh?" she teases, nudging me playfully. "But you're gonna shower first, right? I can still smell the liquor."

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Yes, Ruby, I'm showering."

"Good. Go on, then—I'll make you something to eat." Her voice softens, her gaze serious as she pauses. "And, Kylie...we're not done with this conversation."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I say, waving it off with a casual smile.

-

Malia's POV

"I can cancel if you don't want to be alone," I call out to Momona from the bathroom, the sound echoing slightly off the tiles.

"Malia, please. I can handle a few hours on my own." Her voice is reassuring, but I still feel a pang of guilt.

"Alright," I say, stepping out and examining myself in the mirror. I've gone simple—black top, pink cardigan, jeans, and my hair half up-half down. "How does this look?"

Momona's puffy eyes widen as she takes me in. "Wow," she breathes. She tries to say more, but her words catch, leaving just another "wow."

"Good wow or bad wow, Momo?" I tease, watching her struggle to find more words. Before she can answer, there's a knock on the door. I look back at her for reassurance, and she gives me two thumbs up, her face lighting up despite everything. I take a deep breath, turn the knob, and open the door to see Kylie standing there in her purple graphic tee and black pants contrasting with the leather bomber jacket slung over her shoulder.