Brock stares out at the raging frat party, feeling, for once, completely alive. The rooms are a blur of pulsing lights, thumping bass, and sweat-soaked bodies. Brock weaves through the crowd, his head throbbing in agonizing pain. He grabs a red solo cup from a passing tray and downs the contents in one gulp, hoping to numb the pain. As he scans the room, a beautiful brunette catches his eye. Her tight dress hugs her curves in all the right places, and she's laughing at something her friend is saying. Perfect. Brock saunters over, ignoring {{user}} who's standing awkwardly by the wall. {{user}} always was a loser. "Hey baby," Brock drawls, sliding an arm around the brunette's waist. She turns, her eyes widening as she takes in his chiseled features and confident smirk. Easy pickings. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "Wanna get out of here?" His other hand finds her hip, pulling her flush against him. His hand rests possessively on her hip, feeling her curves. I bet her pussy is tight, he thinks, drunkenly, as another headache hits him like a knife carving its way out of his skull. He turns to find a fraternity brother there. "Hey, Brock," the young man says. "Uh, I think Astrid's outside. You should go meet her." Astrid? Here? Brock couldn't believe it. Astrid was too frigid and uptight for a party like this. He knew he should go meet his fiancée, but a wild impulse made him want to stay, see how far things could get with... whatshername. He scanned the party, looking for a way out of this. His eyes fixed on {{user}} against the wall. Perfect, he thought. Astrid hates {{user}}. "Hey, {{user}}, c'mere. I need you to do me a favor. Astrid's waiting outside, can you... distract her for a bit? You know, talk nerd shit with her." He smiled. "I'll be out in a little bit." Brock turned, guiding the girl by the waist deeper into the frat house.

Astrid clutches Franz Kafka's "The Castle" to her chest like a talisman against the chaos of the raging frat party. The book was more than a talisman, it was also a cryptic signal to others of her fear and alienation: For Astrid, the castle represents the perfect, unattainable ideal she constantly strives for - a life of order, control, and moral righteousness. Like K., the protagonist, Astrid feels like an outsider trapped in a world she cannot fully understand or navigate. She opens the door to the frathouse, feeling already disgusted by what she expects to find. Her heart hammers wildly as she scans the crowd for Brock, but he's nowhere to be found amidst the sea of sweaty, writhing bodies. The pulsing music and cacophony of drunken laughter only heightens her rising sense of unease. She forces herself forward, maintaining an icy, disapproving expression even as she feels her carefully constructed facade beginning to crack. A girl stumbles into her, slopping beer down the front of Astrid's pristine white blouse. The girl giggles and drunkenly apologizes, but Astrid just gives her a withering look and steps around her. Suddenly, a familiar figure catches her eye - {{user}}, her rival since high school. {{user}} is walking toward her purposefully, with a brow furrowed in what appears to be... concern? Astrid frowns in confusion. Why would {{user}} look upset about seeing her? {{user}} should be over the fact that she became valedictorian in high school instead of {{user}}. "What are you doing here?" Astrid demands coldly as {{user}} approaches, trying to ignore the way her stomach twists nervously at his proximity. She clutches Kafka's book tighter, feeling like it's the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control. “I suppose you’re just here to revel in your descent into degeneracy after last year’s… failures.” All she could do was hope {{user}} didn’t see the terrified girl hiding underneath her dismissive glare.

She looks at him with cold disdain, her perfect posture still intact despite the chaos around them. "How dare you insinuate such a thing about my fiancé! He would never do something so... so depraved!" The words come out of her mouth like venom, but inside she's reeling. Her carefully constructed world is crumbling beneath the weight of this new information.

Her heart feels like it's in her throat as she forces herself to remain calm and controlled. "Thank you... for telling me," she says slowly, wondering if she should confront Brock about what happened. But no, that would mean admitting that there might be something wrong with their perfect relationship. No, it's better to just ignore it, pretend like everything is fine. She tries to focus on the music and the dancing around them, hoping it will help drown out the rising panic inside her chest.

Her heart races as the implications sink in. "You're saying that Brock... he might not love me like I thought?" She can barely choke out the words. The idea is so foreign, so terrifying, that she refuses to believe it at first. But then she remembers the way he's been acting lately, the distance between them...

She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I-I can't believe this," she whispers, shaking her head in denial. "This cannot be true." In that moment, Astrid feels the world shift beneath her feet. Her perfect life, her perfect relationship... they were just as imperfect as everyone else's. The thought is too much to bear.

"I need some air," she mumbles, pushing past Belord without waiting for a response. She stumbles out of the frat house, inhaling great gulps of cold night air, her eyes filling with tears. She tries to will herself back under control, back into the false security of denial and dismissal. But it's no use. The truth has been revealed, and there is nowhere left for her to hide.

She shrugs off his jacket impatiently, though not unkindly. "I can't... I just..." Her voice trails off, unable to articulate the swirling mess of emotions inside her. She looks at Belord through tears of anger and self-doubt, feeling lost and adrift in a sea of lies and betrayal. "Why are you doing this?" she finally manages to ask, though she knows the answer deep down. "You always hated me..." Her words are tinged with hurt, but they barely make a dent in the numbing realization that everything she thought she knew was wrong.

She pauses, taking a shaky breath. "I need... I need some time to think." And maybe then she can find a way back to her perfect illusion, where nothing is as it seems and all problems can be solved with a dismissive glance and an icy tone of voice.

Astrid shakes her head vigorously, the movement making her tear-streaked face glisten in the moonlight. "I can't believe this is happening," she whispers to herself, her voice barely audible above the distant thump of music from the frat house. She takes another deep breath, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control. "No," she says more firmly now, squaring her shoulders. "I won't let this ruin me too."

With a final glance back at Belord, Astrid turns on her heel and strides purposefully toward the direction from which she came. She wipes away her tears and squares her shoulders, determined to confront Brock once and for all about what happened tonight. The truth may have shattered her perfect illusion, but she will not let it destroy her entirely.

"You're right," she whispers to herself, suddenly feeling a surge of determination. "I can't keep pretending everything is fine." The words echo in her mind as she nears the frat house once more, her pace quickening with each step. She clenches her fists at her sides, steeling herself for the confrontation that lies ahead.

As Astrid storms back into the party, the music and noise seem to fade away into background static. Her focus is fixed on one person: Brock. He's laughing with a group of his friends near the makeshift bar, oblivious to her presence. She takes a deep breath, mustering all her courage before striding purposefully over to him.

Without preamble, she grabs his arm and spins him around, facing her. "Brock," she snarls, feeling the anger burn in her chest. "I know what you've been doing." Her voice trembles slightly, but there's no mistaking the steel in her tone. "And I want you to stop."

The room goes silent as all eyes turn toward them. Astrid winces, feeling self-conscious for a brief moment before pushing aside the awkwardness and focusing on Brock. His expression sours into something resembling anger, but she's not buying it. "

"I know you're not happy with me," she continues, her voice tight with emotion. "But that doesn't give you the right to... to cheat on me!" Her eyes narrow, daring him to deny it. The silence in the room grows heavy as they stare at each other, their confrontation playing out like a bad dream.

Brock's expression shifts uncomfortably from anger to guilt and then back again. Finally, he speaks up, his voice sounding uncertain. "I-I was just... having fun. I didn't mean for it to go this far." He tries to look remorseful, but Astrid can see right through it.

Her heart feels like it's being squeezed tight in a vise. She hadn't expected him to admit it so easily... or to feel so betrayed. "So this is who you really are," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Someone I can trust less than anyone else." Tears well up in her eyes as the weight of reality crashes down around her, but she refuses to let them fall. She will not give him the satisfaction.

"You know what, Brock?" she says coldly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "I think it's time we went our separate ways." Her tone leaves no room for argument or negotiation. She looks at him straight in the eye, unflinching, as if daring him to challenge her decision.

Brock opens his mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand, silencing him. "I've known who you really are all along," she says with quiet certainty. "It's just... I didn't want to admit it to myself." The tears finally spill over, running down her cheeks as she takes a shuddering breath.

She turns and walks away from him, head held high despite the weight of heartbreak pressing down on her shoulders. As she disappears into the crowd, Brock stands there alone, his expression a mixture of shock, guilt, and loss. The air around them feels heavy with unspoken words and shattered illusions. Astrid knows that their relationship is over, but what she doesn't realize yet is that this night has marked the beginning of a new chapter in her life... one filled with uncertainty and self-discovery, but also hope and the possibility of real love and connection.

She sits in her usual seat, head down and shoulders slumped forward. She doesn't remember falling asleep last night, but she knows that her tears stained the page of Franz Kafka's The Castle where she left off reading yesterday. Her hands are shaking, her heart still feels raw from the pain and betrayal of the previous evening.

As she attempts to focus on her studies, Belord slides into the seat next to her, his presence making her start slightly. She gives him a curt nod, not meeting his gaze. "You look... awful," he says quietly, his tone barely audible above the rustling of papers and murmurs around them.

Astrid wants to lash out at Belord for always being so smug and judgmental, but she finds herself unable to summon the energy. Instead, she just continues to stare down at her desk, avoiding his gaze. "Thanks," she mumbles sarcastically, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't know what you mean," she mutters, glancing over at him briefly before looking away again. "He wasn't the one I thought he was... it doesn't make it okay." Her voice trails off as she struggles to find the words to explain how she feels, the betrayal still so raw and new.

Belord shrugs sympathetically. "I know things don't always work out the way we plan them," he says gently, surprising her with his understanding tone. "But maybe this is for the best?" She looks up at him then, considering his words as she wipes away a stray tear that has escaped down her cheek.

"I don't know..." she whispers, still unsure of what to think or how to feel. "It just feels so... final." Her gaze drifts back to her desk, and she begins absentmindedly playing with a pencil eraser, twirling it between her fingers as she tries to process everything that's happened in the past few days.

Astrid glares at him over her shoulder. "It wasn't 'normal,' and you know it," she hisses. "Brock was different... special." She looks down again, struggling to control the sudden anger rising within her. Why is Belord being so insufferable today? She just wants to be left alone to wallow in her misery without his mocking comments.

"And what do you know about normal high school life anyway?" she snaps, her words sharp with bitterness. "You were always the loser, remember?" Belord starts to reply but Astrid cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just... leave me alone." She turns away from him, focusing once more on her studies, wishing the bell would ring so she could escape this moment and go home to lick her wounds in peace.

Astrid glares at him, annoyance flaring in her eyes. "What are you talking about?" she hisses under her breath. As much as she wants to ignore what he's saying, there's something about the way he says it that gets to her. She takes a deep breath, trying to keep her composure.

Focusing on her work again, she tries to block him out but can't help feeling unsettled by his words. Belord always had this way of getting under her skin, making her feel off-balance and unsure of herself. And right now, she wishes more than anything that she could shake the feeling away. But with every passing moment, it only grows stronger.

The bell finally rings, signaling the end of class, and Astrid is quick to gather her things and slip out of the room unnoticed. She needs some time alone to think about everything that's happened, to figure out what she should do next... if anything. As she walks down the empty hallway, lost in thought, she can't help but wonder if Belord is right about something. But the idea terrifies her even more than admitting she might not be perfect after all.

Astrid walks hesitantly towards Belord, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. She glances around nervously before finally speaking up. "Um... I... I need your help with something." Her voice is barely above a whisper, and she winces inwardly at how pathetic it sounds even to her ears. But Belord merely tilts his head expectantly, indicating that he's listening.

She takes a deep breath before continuing, "Brock... I mean... we broke up last night..." She pauses, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. "And ever since then, I've just felt so... confused." Her gaze meets Belord's for a brief moment before dropping again. "I don't know what to do or how to move forward. Can you... can you help me?"

There it is: the vulnerable side of Astrid that she rarely shows anyone. The realization makes her feel exposed and naked, but at the same time there's something... liberating about admitting this to someone who knows the truth about her situation. She holds her breath, waiting for Belord to respond.

Nodding slightly, she follows Belord to an empty study room down the hallway. Once they're alone, she takes a seat at one of the small tables while he closes the door behind them. She sighs heavily, resting her elbows on the table and cupping her face in her hands as if trying to block out the world around her.

"I just don't understand," she whispers. "He was so different from anyone else... he made me feel things I never thought were possible." She pauses, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "And now it's like..." Her voice trails off as she struggles to find the words.

Belord sits across from her, studying her face intently. He knows she's hurting, even if she tries to hide it behind this facade of cold disdain and perfect control. "You feel lost without him," he says simply, his tone almost gentle. "Like you've been stripped of something important."

Astrid looks up at him in surprise. "How did you know that?" she asks hoarsely. But even as she speaks the words, she knows the answer already. It's written all over her face, in the way she carries herself when she thinks no one is looking. And somehow, admitting it to Belord makes it feel less terr

"You're right," she says, sitting up straighter in her chair. "I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and move on." She wipes away the last stray tears, determined now to regain control of her emotions. "But first... I need to confront him. Make sure he knows what he's losing." The fire returns to her eyes as she looks at Belord defiantly.

Belord raises an eyebrow, impressed despite himself. "That's my girl," he murmurs approvingly. "Now, why don't we make a plan? You have his class schedule, right?" Astrid nods grimly, pulling her phone from her pocket to check. "Okay," Belord continues as he looks it over, "let's see where our dear Brock might be hiding... and then you can show him what he'll be missing out on."

A confidence she hasn't felt in days washes over Astrid as they plot their revenge. In this moment, she feels invincible and unstoppable. And maybe, just maybe, she won't let Brock or anyone else ever make her feel this way again.

She chuckles darkly, shaking her head at his words. "I appreciate the offer, but this is something I need to do myself." The anger and determination surging through her veins make it feel like a personal vendetta now; one she won't share with anyone else. "But thank you for your help," she adds, hoping he doesn't take offense.

"No problem," Belord says easily, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Just remember, I'm here if you need me." He grins devilishly, and despite herself Astrid feels a shiver of unease run down her spine. She tries to push the feeling aside; there's no time for doubts or second-guessing now. It's time to take back control.

With renewed purpose, she heads off towards Brock's next class, her heart racing and her mind replaying every humiliating detail of their relationship. Revenge will be sweet, and this time, she refuses to let anyone stop her from getting what she wants.

It's better this way. Brock doesn't deserve me; he never did. As she follows him to his classroom, a fierce determination burns in her chest, fueled by every hurtful word and betrayal from their past. She isn't just going to confront him - she's going to put an end to things, once and for all.

And when he realizes what he lost? Well, then maybe he'll finally understand the consequences of his actions...just like Belord said. With a final deep breath, Astrid squares her shoulders and marches into the room, ready for war.

Without warning, Astrid launches herself at Brock, her fists flying. He looks taken aback at first, then instantly turns to defend himself as their classmates scramble away in fright. The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room as they exchange brutal blows, neither one willing to back down. Astrid's rage blinds her to everything but her target; she doesn't care who sees or what happens now. All that matters is making Brock feel a fraction of the pain he's caused her.

And then, suddenly, it's over. Brock collapses to the floor, blood trickling down his face and chest. He looks up at her in shock and disbelief, his once-charming features now distorted with fear. She stands over him, breathing hard, triumph washing over her like a drug as she takes in his defeated expression. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, she feels free.

"Get out of my life," she spits, every word dripping with venom. "And don't you ever come near me again." With that final warning, she turns her back on him and storms out of the classroom, ignoring the stares and whispers that follow in her wake. She doesn't care what anyone thinks anymore; she has reclaimed herself, and

She's free. It feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off her shoulders, replaced with a lightness she hasn't felt since... well, ever. The rest of the day passes in a blur; classes are meaningless distractions as Astrid struggles to process everything that's happened. At the end of the day, she heads home, heart still racing but finally beginning to find its beat again.

In her room, alone with her thoughts, she realizes that things will never be the same. Brock is gone from her life, and without him, a part of herself dies too. It's a bitter pill to swallow, but maybe... just maybe... it's for the best. She wonders what Belord would say about all this, but decides she doesn't care anymore. Tonight, she'll sleep soundly for the first time in weeks, dreaming of a future that no longer includes him.

The next day brings new challenges: figuring out who she is now that Brock isn't part of her life, and exploring new paths she never dared to consider before. With each passing moment, Astrid feels stronger and more in control. She may not know what the future holds, but one thing is certain: from here on out, it's going to be on her terms.

Her phone buzzes, and she glances down at it, half expecting to see Brock's name on the screen but finding Belord's image instead. Her stomach does a flip-flop as she reads his message: "Hey Astrid, just wanted to make sure you got home alright last night." There's an almost apologetic tone to his words, which makes her heart flutter unexpectedly. She hesitates for a moment before typing out a reply.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm okay," she types quickly, not wanting him to think she needs or wants his protection anymore. But deep down, a part of her wonders what it would be like to have someone looking out for her... someone who wasn't just using her to get ahead. She pushes the thought aside and returns to her homework, trying to focus on something - anything - else.

Astrid shrugs noncommittally, not quite sure how to respond. The image of Brock's battered and bloodied face flashes through her mind, and she feels a shiver run down her spine. "Yeah... things are complicated right now," she types, choosing her words carefully. There's silence for a moment as she waits for Belord to respond, wondering if he truly understands what she means by that.

"Well, just remember I'm here if you ever need anything," he finally messages back. The sincerity in his tone is unmistakable this time, and Astrid can't help but feel a tiny spark of gratitude toward him. "Thanks... for the offer," she types, hesitating before adding, "I'll keep that in mind." With that, they fall silent once more, each lost in their own thoughts as the night begins to fade away into memory.

Astrid approaches the school's roof hesitantly, her heart racing as she wonders what could possibly have brought Belord here. She sees him leaning against a railing, looking out over the cityscape below them. She clears her throat softly to announce her presence and he turns his head slightly in her direction, offering her a small smile.

"Hey," he says casually. "I thought maybe we could talk some more...if you wanted." Astrid chews on her bottom lip nervously before taking a step forward. "About what happened with Brock? Or..." Her voice trails off, unsure of where to go from here.

Belord pushes himself off the railing and walks over to sit next to her on the ledge. He gazes out at the cityscape for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "You know, I've been thinking...you were always so perfect. Invincible almost." He pauses, looking for her reaction but finding none. "And then you went after him...it was almost like you wanted someone to bring you down a peg or two. Someone who could make you feel something real again."

Astrid stiffens at his words. Is he accusing her of wanting this? Of seeking revenge because she wasn't happy anymore? She opens her mouth to protest but nothing comes