Love Triangle

Chapter 2: Cracks Beneath The Surface

Damon’s days began to blur into each other. The laughter he shared with Eliza became rehearsed, an echo of something once genuine but now hollow.

The more time he spent around Jace, the more he felt the walls of his carefully constructed life crack under pressure. Every moment with Eliza was a performance, a role he had perfected over time.

She loved him of that he was sure. And for a while, he had loved her too. But Jace's presence had altered something fundamental in him.

It started with a glance. Just a moment too long during an argument in class about moral relativism. Damon had felt it then, a spark! Jace was sharp, sarcastic, and maddeningly defiant.

He challenged Damon at every turn, pushing him to question things he had taken as truth.

There was fire in his voice, and an ache in Damon’s chest he couldn’t quite explain.

Weeks passed. Jace remained a thorn in Damon’s side, showing up in group projects, seated nearby in the cafeteria, and always seeming to notice when Damon was most vulnerable.

And Damon, against all logic, began to seek those encounters out.

There was something about Jace’s eyes, how they held secrets as if daring Damon to unravel them.

One evening after a student council event, Damon walked the deserted corridor alone. He was heading toward the library wing, trying to get his mind off things, when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he found Jace.

"You forgot your phone," Jace said, tossing it lightly.

Damon caught it, his eyes narrowing. "You’ve been watching me."

"Maybe. You make it hard not to."

There it was again, that maddening honesty. Damon turned to walk away, but Jace’s voice stopped him.

"You can’t keep pretending forever, you know."

Damon didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. That night, when he got home, he sat on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, heart racing. He knew Jace was right.

His mother noticed the change before anyone else. Clara West was many things, socialite, supportive wife, political strategist but first and foremost, she was a mother. She’d raised Damon with love, nurturing him even under the weight of her husband’s ambition and strict beliefs.

She watched him eat dinner in silence, his food untouched.

"Damon," she said, her voice gentle, "is something wrong?"

He shook his head too quickly.

"Is it Eliza? Did you two fight again?"

"No," he replied, forcing a smile. "We’re fine."

Clara didn’t press. But that night, she entered his room after midnight, quietly enough not to startle him. Damon was seated by the window, staring into the darkness.

"I used to do that too," she said, settling beside him. "Sit and think when the world became too loud."

He looked at her, startled. "Mom"

"You don’t have to tell me anything, not until you’re ready. But know that I see you. And I love you, whatever it is."

He almost told her then. Almost. But the image of his father’s stern face silenced him.

Days later, everything changed.

It was after a charity event hosted by Damon’s father. Jace had volunteered, unexpectedly, and Damon had to share a table with him for hours.

They argued over politics, over social reform, over nearly everything. And when Damon stormed out into the garden for air, Jace followed.

"You think you have the whole world figured out, don’t you?" Damon spat.

Jace’s jaw clenched. "At least I’m not hiding who I am."

That hit like a slap. Damon lunged, grabbing Jace’s shirt, pushing him back against the stone pillar. But Jace didn’t flinch.

"Hit me if that’ll make it easier. But it won’t change anything."

Their breaths mingled in the cold night air. The silence between them became a roar.

And then it happened. Damon kissed him.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic. It was messy, angry, confused. But it was real.

When they parted, both breathless, neither spoke. Jace touched his lips, eyes wide. Damon stepped back, heart pounding.

"I… I have to go," he whispered.

He ran, not knowing where to. Just away.

It was the missing cat posters around town. Then the whispers of someone seeing a girl with black eyes lurking near the forest line. Damon tried to ignore it, tried to pretend it didn’t matter.

Until the dreams started.

He saw Eliza standing at the foot of his bed, soaked in blood. Her eyes were hollow.

"You’ll have to choose," she said, voice distorted. "Or I’ll make the choice for you."

He awoke screaming

The next day, Eliza brought him flowers.

"You looked pale this morning," she said. "Thought you could use some color."

She smiled, but there was something off. Her hands trembled. Damon looked closer and saw a scratch down her arm.

"What happened?"

She hesitated. "Just a dog. Stray. It’s nothing."

But Damon knew better. He saw something in her eyes, fear!

He hugged her, and for the first time, he felt like he was clinging to a memory. Something slipping through his fingers.

That night, he called Jace.

"Meet me," he said. "Please."

And when they did, under the bleachers of the school stadium, Damon kissed him again. This time, without rage. Just desperation.

Jace didn’t pull away.

"I don’t know what’s happening to me," Damon whispered.

"Neither do I. But we’ll figure it out. Together."

The following day, Damon stood by the classroom window, his arms crossed and mind far from the equations scribbled on the blackboard. The late afternoon sun streamed through the dusty glass panes, painting golden streaks across the floor. Behind him, the teacher droned on about calculus, but all Damon could think about was Jace.

Since that night, the night things hadn’t been the same.

He still remembered it vividly: the soft light of from the hall, the unexpected vulnerability in Jace’s eyes, the way their lips had met like magnets finding each other in a storm. It was brief but unforgettable. Damon hadn’t slept well since.

“Damon!”

His eyes snapped to the teacher. The class was staring.

“See me after class,” Mr. Bernard said sternly.

Damon sank lower into his seat, trying to ignore the curious whispers.

After the bell rang, students poured out like water breaking through a dam. Jace was already gone, as he had been every day this week. No eye contact. No texts. Just cold silence.

“Trouble in paradise?” Eliza asked sweetly, slipping beside him. Her hand found his like it belonged there.

He forced a smile. “Just tired.”

Eliza was warm, funny, beautiful. She had a laugh that made people stop and look. And she loved him openly and fiercely. But even now, as she leaned into him, Damon’s mind was on someone else.

Outside, rain began to drizzle. The schoolyard emptied quickly, and Damon walked Eliza to her car.

“Are we still good for dinner Friday?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied, kissing her on the cheek.

As he watched her drive off, a figure moved out of the shadows.

It was Jace.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Damon said.

“I had to,” Jace muttered. “You have a girlfriend, remember?”

“You kissed me.”

“You didn’t stop me.”

The tension between them was thick.

“I can’t lose her,” Damon whispered.

“And what about me?” Jace’s voice cracked. “Was I just a mistake?”

Damon stepped closer, but Jace backed away.

“This doesn’t have to mean anything,” Damon said, unsure if he believed it.

“Too late. It already does.”

Jace turned and disappeared into the rain.

That night, Damon sat at his desk, staring at his phone. He had Jace’s number open, thumb hovering over the call button.

He dropped the phone.

The window creaked. A shadow moved across the backyard.

He rushed over, heart pounding but no one was there. Just a flash of something wrong. The feeling lingered.

At dinner, his parents spoke in clipped tones. His father, Richard west, was reading the newspaper. His mother, elegant and serene, kept looking at him like she knew something.

“You’re quiet,” she said gently.

“School stuff.”

She nodded but didn’t press. His father didn’t even look up.

In his room later, Damon opened his journal. He didn’t write often, but tonight felt like it needed something permanent.

"I kissed him. He kissed me. And I didn’t stop it. I don’t know what that means. But when I look at Jace, I feel something. Something real. And when I’m with Eliza, I feel safe. I need both. Is that so wrong?

He closed the book and lay in bed, eyes wide open.

Outside, a soft thud echoed from the rooftop. Then a whisper he couldn’t make out.

Damon sat up. “Hello?”

No response.

The next morning, his nerves were shot. He spotted Jace at his locker but didn’t approach. Eliza waved from across the hall, radiant and glowing. And yet, Damon’s chest ached.

In chemistry class, he sat between them, Jace on one side, Eliza on the other. Eliza passed him notes. Jace ignored him.

Halfway through the lesson, the lights flickered.

Mr. Davis frowned. “Probably a circuit issue.”

But Damon knew better. He felt it again. That wrongness and cold chills crawling under his skin.

In the locker room after P.E., he was alone.

Or so he thought.

A whisper barely audible brushed past his ear.

He turned.

No one.

Then a locker door slammed behind him. He flinched.

He opened it. Nothing inside.

Damon caught his breath and stepped out. The corridor was empty.

At lunch, he sat with Eliza, laughing when she made a joke. But his smile was forced. Jace walked past, tray in hand, and didn’t even glance at them.

Eliza leaned in. “He’s been acting weird lately.”

Damon nodded. “Yeah.”

She took his hand. “But you’re mine, right?”

He hesitated just a second too long.

“…Right?” she asked again, her voice tinged with worry.

“Yeah. Of course.”

She smiled, reassured. But Damon wasn’t.

Later, in the hallway, he found a slip of paper in his locker.

Meet me. Rooftop. After school.

It was Jace’s handwriting.

Damon’s heart raced as he climbed the stairs after the final bell. The rooftop was quiet. Wind tousled his hair. Jace stood with his back to him.

“You came,” he said without turning.

“You asked.”

Jace turned. His eyes were red not from tears, but from something deeper. Rage? Pain?

“I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I see your face everywhere.”

“I’m sorry,” Damon said.

“No, you’re not.”

“I don’t know what this is,” Damon confessed. “I’m confused.”

“I’m not. I like you. I want you. But I won’t be your secret forever.”

Damon stepped closer. Their eyes locked. The tension simmered.

This time, Damon kissed him longer and truer, when they pulled apart, Jace whispered, “You’re playing with fire.”

From below, a scream echoed. Then another.

Damon rushed to the edge and saw students running.

Something, someone, was in the courtyard. Tall. Shadowed. Inhuman.

Jace grabbed his arm. “We need to go.”

As they raced down the stairs, Damon knew one thing: he was caught in something bigger than just feelings.

Love. Lies. And something lurking in the dark.

The triangle had begun.

And none of them would come out unscathed.