CTRL

🌑 CTRL 🌑 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑂𝑛𝑒...... Eden Heights High wasn't just a school - it was a runway, a battlefield and a throne room all wrapped up in marble polished floors and tinted glass. The morning sun glinted off the front gates like a spotlight and right on cue, Tami Westwood stepped out of her father's sleek matte-black Audi like the school was her personal runway. She was followed shortly by Alia Monroe who slammed the car door shut and waved to Tom, Tami's chauffeur, thanking him for the ride. Tami's outfit was lethal. A structured leopard print blazer, cropped just above the waist. Matching high-waisted mini skirt with a slit that said she didn't come to play. Black heeled boots, thigh high and unapologetic. Gold hoop earrings caught the light, and her edges were swooped to perfection beneath a glossy swoop ponytail. Tami didn't just walk - she 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑. And like always, the crowd parted. Phones tilted. Heads turned. Even the basketball boys paused mid-laugh near the gym entrance. Alia was two steps behind her, oversized grey hoodie pulled over her braids, baggy jeans cuffed at the ankles, black Nike Dunks. She looked like she was trying to disappear next to Tami's spotlight. But that was the way they worked - Tami burned, Alia balanced. "I'm just saying, Tam, that Bio quiz was impossible," Alia muttered, digging in her tote for gum. "I mean, how is mitochondria still coming up in Year Eleven?" Tami didn't answer. She was watching Zayn Eden walk across the lawn. He wore that effortless white-tee-under-a-jacket combo, basketball bag slung over one shoulder, headphones around his neck. Junior students greeted him like royalty - which made sense, considering his last name was literally Eden. Grandson of the school's founder. But he didn't act like it. That was the dangerous part. His eyes met Tami's for a split second. Just one. Then he looked away. Alia saw it. She bit her lower lip to stop herself from smiling. "Tam? You're staring again." "I wasn't," Tami said. "You were." Tami flushed. "I wasn't!" Alia laughed and they continued this, back and forth when Clara Madison jogged up behind them, beads clicking, clutching a spiral notebook and a vanilla milkshake. "Hey, Tami and Alia," Clara said, waving. "I saved you both a seat in chem - next to the window, your lightning spot." Alia waved. "Hello, and thanks Clara." Tami smiled. "You're a lifesaver." Clara literally beamed. "You're welcome." Inside, the air buzzed with energy. Posters for Founder's Day were everywhere - Eden Heights' biggest tradition. Rumors swirled of a masquerade ball and a charity gala. The school liked to keep things exclusive. And expensive. Tami glided the halls like she owned them - and in some ways, she kind of did. Jer notes were always color coded. Her lipstick never smudged. She wore the coolest clothes. And her best friend, Alia was the only person who'd ever seen her cry. During third period, Chemistry, Mrs. Whitmore - part counsellor, part teacher, all mystery - scribbled on the board about covalent bonds while half of the class listened. Clara leaned over. "You okay?" Tami nodded. "Just tired." Clara hesitated. "You've been quiet lately. I mean, not in a bad way. Just different." Tami offered her a small smile, but inside, something twisted. She had been different. Ever since that party last term. Ever since Zayn had leaned against the lockers, smirked at Alia and complimented her nails like didn't exist Ever since the rumors. The ones that said Tami had been talking trash about her best friend. Which was crazy, right? 𝑅𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡? The courtyard was alive with familiar chaos - some girls comparing notes and gossiping, others at cheerleading practice, boys tossing basketballs, whispers in some corners, laughter in others. In the cafeteria, Cassie Andrews was typing furiously on her iPad, barely even touching her food. "They've blocked t****k on the school WiFi," she groaned. "This place is evil." Ricky Martin grinned across the table. "That's why it's a school, not a spa." "Shut up, Rick," Cassie muttered. Ricky only laughed harder. Tami sat between them, absent-mindedly picking at her salad. Alia had to miss lunch because she and other art students had 'a thing'. Tami's mind was spinning. Not just because of the rumors, but because of what she'd overheard moments ago in the hallway. ".....I heard someone's getting exposed soon." "Exposed?" "Like receipts. Screenshots. Maybe a video." "No way! That CTRL stuff again?" "Nah, this is something else. Or.....maybe CTRL's back?" The name twisted in her stomach. CTRL A rumor. A ghost. A glitch in the system that had haunted the school some years before - dropping secrets like bombs, then disappearing. No one knew who ran the account. Or who fed them. Tami knew one thing though - when people start whispering, someone gets hurt. That night, Tami was brushing her edges and rewatching Euphoria clips when her phone buzzed. A notification. 𝑁𝑒𝑤 𝑃𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 @𝐺𝐻𝑆𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑧 The account had a few hundred followers - random, anonymous, slightly shady. Nothing big. Until now. The post was a voice recording. A message. Old but real. "𝐼 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑟 𝑖𝑓 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑚. 𝐼'𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒. 𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑆𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡. 𝐼 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛, 𝐴𝑙𝑖𝑎'𝑠 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒, 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑎𝑐𝑡, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡? 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑚𝑒. 𝑍𝑎𝑦𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠." The caption read: "And to think she'd say something like his about her 'best friend ' just because the guy she was crushing on liked her best friend is unimaginable." The likes skyrocketed. Tami's brush fell from her hand. The message.....it was hers. But she'd deleted it a long time ago. Alia's number flashed on her screen. She didn't answer it. Across the school, students sent screen recordings, some laughed, many were surprised. Alia sat on her bed, face pale with shock. Clara stared at her own phone, one eyebrow raised. Somewhere else, a laptop opened. And the caption glowed in the darkness: "Welcome to CTRL"