Gia never imagined she'd live with four guys and still feel… lonely.
The house was full. The kitchen always smelled like toast or something burning. There were towels left damp in the bathroom and muddy shoes at the front door. Someone always left lights on. Someone else always turned them off again.
It should've felt alive.
But instead, it felt like a dream she couldn't quite wake from.
Saturday afternoon sunlight filtered into the hallway as Gia passed by Leonardo's room.
The door was cracked.
She never snooped. She respected privacy. But a strange sound caught her attention—a low, pulsing rhythm. Not music. Not a machine.
Like a heartbeat… deep and slow.
She paused.
"Can I help you?" came Leonardo's calm voice from behind.
Gia jumped and spun around.
He stood at the end of the hall, holding a folded blanket. His expression was polite, but his eyes were… sharp.
"Sorry," she said quickly. "Your door was open."
He walked over, nudged the door shut with one quiet hand. "Habit."
"What was that sound?"
He tilted his head. "You sure you heard something?"
Gia opened her mouth. Then closed it.
Leonardo offered a small, not-quite smile. "This house creaks."
She nodded.
He didn't move, didn't walk away—just waited, as if silently challenging her to say more.
So she didn't.
She turned and headed back to her room, her pulse still drumming too fast.
Later that night, Ken and Roy were watching a horror movie in the living room, the volume cranked up.
Gia stood in the kitchen, sipping cold tea, trying to unwind. She glanced toward the window—and caught movement outside.
A shape.
Fast.
Too fast.
She stepped closer, heart skipping. But when she looked again, the yard was empty.
The trees swayed. The sky was clear.
She backed away from the window slowly.
It was after midnight when she passed the living room again. The movie was off. Roy was asleep on the couch, mouth open slightly. Ken had vanished.
Ace stood in the far corner of the room. Alone. Arms folded. Eyes open, staring at nothing.
She froze.
He didn't turn.
"Do you sleep?" she asked, half-whispering.
His voice came, low and smooth. "When I have to."
She stepped into the room, the floor creaking under her. "You're always… awake."
A pause.
Then, "It's safer that way."
"For who?" She's confused.
Another pause.
Then: "Everyone."
His answer made something twist in her chest.
Gia crossed her arms. "Is that your job? Protecting people you don't talk to?"
He finally turned his head. Their eyes met.
"I don't protect people," Ace said flatly. "I survive them."
Now, she's even more confused.
The words sat between them—cold, sharp, heavy.
Gia didn't know what she expected. Maybe kindness. Maybe a crack in the wall.
But all she got was silence.
She turned away without another word.
And as she left the room, she could feel his eyes following her again.
---
Monday morning came with a sharp wind and a tighter feeling in Gia's chest.
The hallway at school was louder than usual—buzzing with gossip.
"Did you hear what happened in the parking lot?"
"Yeah, some guy got thrown into a car. Like, thrown-thrown."
"Who even has strength like that?"
Gia slowed as she passed a group of girls whispering by the lockers.
Thrown?
She reached her locker and found Roy leaning on the one beside hers, waiting like it was casual. His hoodie was pulled low, a lazy grin on his face.
"Need a ride later?" he asked, almost too casually.
Gia narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Roy shrugged. "Just figured it'd be safer."
"Safer than what?"
"Being alone."
She slammed her locker shut. "Did you see what happened this morning?"
His grin didn't fade, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe."
"Roy—"
"Let it go, Gia."
She stepped back. "You sound like Ace."
That finally wiped the smirk off his face.
He walked off without another word.
That evening, she came home to silence.
The house always got quieter when they thought she wasn't listening.
Gia moved carefully through the hallway, pausing at the corner near the stairs. She heard voices from the kitchen.
Low. Controlled. But urgent.
"…he shouldn't have used force in public," Leonardo's voice said.
"He didn't mean to," Ken replied. "That jerk grabbed Gia's wrist. He lost it."
Gia froze.
Roy's voice followed, sharper. "If the wrong person saw that, we're done. One move like that and they'll trace us straight here."
"She doesn't know," Leonardo said flatly. "She's suspicious, yes—but she doesn't know."
Then Ace spoke. Quiet. Unmistakable.
"She will. Sooner or later."
A long silence.
Then, Ace again: "And when she does… we run."
Gia's blood turned cold.
Her hand covered her mouth as she stepped back, careful not to creak the floorboard.
They were talking about her.
They were hiding something.
And she wasn't supposed to find out.
She slipped back to her room and locked the door behind her.
Her mind raced, replaying the words.
She knew they were dangerous—maybe not to her, but to someone.
And Ace… he hadn't sounded angry.
Just certain.
Like he'd already accepted what would happen when the truth came out.
---
She didn't want to see them. Not after overhearing them say she didn't know… yet. Not after hearing Ace's voice so calmly say they'd run once she did.
Pretending everything was normal had never been harder.
By afternoon, she found herself organizing the hallway closet—not out of need, but to clear her head. She moved old towels and boxes aside, dust puffing into the air, until her hand landed on something cool and metallic tucked beneath an old folded quilt.
It was a small black box. Plain. Locked.
Curious, she nudged it open—surprised it wasn't latched.
Inside were small items. Rings, bracelets, and what looked like… collars?
She frowned, pulling one out.
It was heavier than it looked—etched with strange markings. Not like anything she'd seen in stores. It felt handmade, ancient.
She pulled out another—this one a circular pendant, pressed into black velvet. Cold to the touch, shaped like a crescent moon with claw marks carved through it.
Goosebumps rose up her arm.
It didn't feel like jewelry.
It felt like something older. Important. Dangerous.
Before she could study it more, a faint creak came from down the hall.
Footsteps.
Not fast. Not threatening.
But enough to make her shove the box back into place and close the door just as Roy's voice drifted around the corner. "Hey, Gia? You seen my phone charger?"
"Not in here," she said quickly, stepping out and brushing dust off her jeans.
Roy gave her a curious glance, then shrugged. "Okay."
He walked off, earbuds already half in his ears.
Gia stood still for a long moment, her pulse calming.
That evening, she sat on her bed, the memory of the strange symbols still burned in her brain.