THE AWAKENING

EPISODE THREE: chapter three:IT HAS ALREADY BEGUN

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As the music faded and the lights dimmed, the once-lively party at Selina’s grand estate came to an abrupt and chaotic end. Laughter had turned to gasps, cheers to shouts, and the once perfectly organized birthday bash now lay in ruins—shattered by an unexpected turn of events.

Max and his friends stepped out of the extravagant five star king hotel, their shoes echoing against the stone steps beneath the golden moonlight. The velvet ropes and shimmering decorations behind them were now symbols of a social event gone terribly wrong. But rather than shame, their faces bore mischievous grins of satisfaction.

Selina, seething with rage and public humiliation, stormed past the crowd. Her heels clacked against the pavement as she raised her hand and hailed the first taxi she could find. Her mascara streaked down her cheeks, her once-glamorous appearance undone by fury.

She opened the taxi door with a dramatic swing, turned back toward Max, and screamed, “Max! My revenge is coming soon! I hate you! I hate you, you asshole!”, she said clenching her first,

Then she disappeared into the night, her anger trailing behind like a thundercloud.

For a moment, there was stunned silence.

Then it broke—like a dam giving way to a tidal wave.

Max and his friends doubled over in laughter, clutching their sides, unable to contain the sheer absurdity of what had just unfolded. Their laughter echoed down the quiet street, unapologetic and wild. The kind of laughter that only comes after long-held grudges have finally been settled.

They had done it. They had pulled it off.

“Did you see her face when the video started playing on the projector?” James said between uncontrollable giggles. “Oh my God—George almost choked on his champagne!”

“I thought Selina was going to faint!” Jessica chimed in, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “Honestly, worth every second.”

But beneath their amusement, there was the subtle weight of reality settling in. They knew trouble was inevitable. What they had done wasn’t just a prank. It was a full-blown social assassination.

They had crashed and ruin Selina's party—her perfectly curated, invitation-only birthday gala—with a vengeance fueled by years of torment. In the middle of her grand toast, a projector they had hacked into suddenly flickered to life. The screen displayed a compilation videos of lance having s*x with her , and also George with his secretary having s*x together, this was a total social assassination sparing them no pity --- those mocking Max, Jessica, James, and others. Laughter had turned to gasps, and the smiles of Selina’s friends had twisted into shock and horror.

And then chaos.

“I guess this is where we part ways,” Jessica said, looking up at Max with a smile that was both proud and wistful as a sign of been in love with someone but afraid to say it out. “Take care, Max. And thanks—for letting us finally get our revenge.”

Max looked at her, feeling a twinge of guilt beneath his victory.

“I’m sorry for getting you guys into this mess,” he said quietly.

Jessica shook her head. “No, Max. You’re not responsible. They had it coming. We finally stood up for ourselves. For once, we held the power. And honestly? It felt good.”

James nodded in agreement. “Watching their faces as the video played—especially George’s—man, it was priceless! I’ll never forget that look of utter horror. Like he just realized he’s not untouchable anymore.”

He burst into laughter again, and the others followed suit. Their laughter wasn’t just amusement—it was release. Release from the years of ridicule, the whispered insults, the open mockery in crowded halls. For once, the bullies had been unmasked in front of their own audience.

Even though trouble was definitely on its way— being grounded, being bullied or expelled from school because they knew George won't let them off, to protect his dignity, and maybe a retaliation from George's father the ruthless tycoon of new York, involved in all shady and illegal business and rumored for killing anyone who dares offend him,or being attacked by Selina goons,maybe even legal threats—the satisfaction of reclaiming their dignity outweighed it all. At least for now.

As the laughter died down and the cool night air wrapped around them like a gentle reminder of reality, they stood together in silence for a moment, appreciating what they had done. It had been reckless. It had been risky.

But it had also been right.

“Well,” Max said, rubbing the back of his neck, “guess we should lay low for a while.”

Jessica smirked. “I don’t mind hiding out in the dorms for a few days. Just means more time for movies and popcorn.”

James grinned. “And plotting the next chapter of our rebellion?”

"No, it's enough", Max said,

"George horror face is enough for now"

They all laughed again, this time more softly. The night was cooling off, the street quieting around them. The sound of crickets filled the air, and distant city lights twinkled in the horizon.

“Let’s get inside before someone recognizes us,” Max said with a chuckle.

They nodded and began walking toward their dorms, steps lighter than they had been in years. Their hearts were full—not just of joy, but of freedom. And as they slipped into the shadows of their residence hall, they knew one thing for certain:

This night would be remembered forever.

And for once, they had written the story.

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Max strolled back to his dorm after an evening spent laughing and joking with his friends. The sky had turned a dusky and dark.the moon slowly dipping below the school’s gothic rooftops. The air was cool, and the campus was beginning to empty, students retreating to their dorms or the library.

As Max turned a corner, he spotted Mrs. Smith—the school's longtime cleaner, easily in her nineties—struggling to drag an oversized trash can toward the storage room at the back of the building.

“Leave it, Mrs. Smith. Let me help you with that load. It's way too heavy for an old woman like you,” Max said with a chuckle, stepping in.

Mrs. Smith straightened up slowly and gave him a glare that could rival any military drill sergeant’s. “Old woman, huh? Look at these muscles, young man!” she shot back, flexing her thin, wiry arms with exaggerated pride. “I've been lifting heavy stuff since I was eight. Stronger than you’ll ever be!”

Max laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Stop boasting, old lady,” he teased, taking the trash can from her and pushing it into the storage room.

Inside, the place smelled faintly of bleach and old newspapers. As Max set the trash can in its place, Mrs. Smith stood by the door with her arms crossed.

“Little Max,” she began, her voice softening, “I’ve been watching you and Jessica. It seems like that girl has feelings for you. Better grow up and find yourself a girlfriend who truly cares about you. Move on from Selina. That girl... she’s a demon in disguise.”

Max paused, looking over his shoulder with a half-smile. “Thanks, Aunt. But Jessica’s just a friend. She’s always been there, sure, but... I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

Mrs. Smith was the only person who had looked after Max since his parents died in a tragic hit-and-run accident five years ago. Though she wasn’t a blood relative, he called her “aunt” out of respect and affection. She had always been mysterious, knowing things no one should know and appearing exactly when needed, like some kind of guardian spirit. Over time, Max had stopped questioning it.

She stepped closer, her tone suddenly serious. “I heard about what happened at Selina’s birthday party... the stunt you and your friends pulled.”

Max’s eyes widened. “How did you find out about that?”

“I told you—I’ve been watching you. I have my ways,” she said cryptically. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and something else—wisdom, perhaps. Reaching into her apron pocket, she pulled out a small digital watch with a plastic band and handed it to him.

“What is this?” Max asked, examining it.

“Consider it a gift,” she said.

Max stared at her. “You’re always full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Mrs. Smith just smiled and turned away, her steps slow but steady as she disappeared into the hallway. Max shook his head, strapped the watch onto his wrist, and made his way back to the dorm, thoughts swirling through his mind.

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Meanwhile, across the city in the lavish yet ominous Carter Mansion, the mood was far from calm. The massive dining hall glowed dimly under the soft light of crystal chandeliers. A long table stretched across the room, its surface dotted with expensive wine glasses and untouched food.

At the head of the table sat Kyle Carter, the ruthless tycoon known for his cold heart and a trail of ruined lives. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he sipped champagne with a stoic expression, his cold, piercing eyes betraying nothing but danger.

Before him knelt his son George and his secretary, both trembling under the weight of Kyle’s presence. The room was silent, save for the quiet ticking of an antique clock and the occasional clink of Kyle’s glass.

“Kill her,” Kyle said coldly, not even glancing at the secretary. “And dump her body.”

The words sliced through the air like daggers. His voice, low and steady, held the kind of quiet authority that chilled the soul. George flinched but said nothing, knowing better than to argue.

Kyle's reputation wasn’t built on money alone—it was built on fear. He didn’t just crush competition; he erased it. The stories about him were whispered in every dark alley and backroom deal in the city. Betrayal meant death. Mistakes meant punishment. Mercy was a word that never existed in his vocabulary.

“What’s his name?” Kyle asked suddenly, his expression unreadable.

George swallowed hard. “Max Robert.”

There was a long silence.

“Find out everything about him,” Kyle commanded one of his men. “Where he lives, who he talks to, who he loves. Everything. I want no surprises.”

The guard nodded and quickly left the room. George remained on his knees, sweat dripping from his brow, heart pounding in his chest. He had hoped his father wouldn’t find out about the humiliation at Selina’s party—how Max and his friends had disrupted the event, exposed secrets, and embarrassed George in front of half the city's elite.

But nothing ever escaped Kyle Carter’s notice.

(He was even present without his notice)

“Why do you care so much, Father?” George asked, his voice barely audible.

Kyle stood slowly, his presence towering even without words. He stepped closer to his son, stared down at him, and said in a cold whisper, “Because humiliation is weakness. And weakness must be erased.”

George closed his eyes. He knew what was coming.

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Back at school, Max lay on his bed, the digital watch Mrs. Smith gave him blinking softly on his wrist. He stared at the ceiling, replaying her words in his mind. Something about her warning didn't sit right. It felt... more than just advice. It felt like a prophecy.

His phone buzzed. A message from Jessica: “Hey, are you okay? We need to talk. It’s urgent.”

Max sat up, a worries appeared on his face. Whatever was happening—it had already begun.

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