XAVIER
I see her before the crowd erupts.
Beatrice, standing awkwardly in the centre of the room, jacket halfway off. The silence hangs for a second before the chanting begins again, louder, crueller.
"Take it off! Take it off!"
I freeze, red cup in hand, eyes locked on her.
Her fingers tremble on the hem of her jacket. She looks like she wants to disappear. I can feel the panic rolling off her. And yet, no one stops. They're laughing. Filming. Enjoying this.
And I did this. I invited her.
"Parker," I growl, storming over to where my so-called friend leans against the wall, laughing.
"What?" Parker grins, shrugging. "Don’t get soft on us now. She came, didn't she?"
"You set her up." "No, man. You did."
I shove him. Parker stumbles back, beer splashing from his cup. "You knew what
