Chapter 8 No.8

While Brendon was nursing his whiskey, a very different conversation was happening across campus at the Delta Gamma house.

Gloria Talley was sitting on her four-poster bed, a thick charcoal mask covering her face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was clutching a silk pillow as if it were a weapon.

"He's playing a game, Hettie," Gloria said, her voice muffled by the mask. "He has to be. Nobody just walks out on me at Le Coucou."

Hettie Obrien, Gloria's best friend and self-appointed lieutenant, was sitting on the floor, meticulously painting her toenails a shade called 'Billionaire Pink.'

"It's a power move," Hettie said, not looking up. "Think about it. He's been your lapdog for months. He's probably tired of being the 'Simp.' He wants to see if you'll chase him."

Gloria sat up, her eyes wide. "Chase him? I don't chase. I'm the prize."

"Exactly," Hettie said. "But he's a Hampton. They're used to winning. By walking out, he's trying to shift the dynamic. He wants you to feel insecure so that when he finally 'forgives' you, you'll be more compliant."

Gloria considered this. It made sense in her world. Everything was a transaction, every relationship a negotiation.

"But his tone," Gloria whispered. "He looked right through me... like I was nothing."

Hettie waved a hand dismissively. "Acting. He's a good actor. He probably practiced that look in the mirror for an hour. And the cold shoulder thing? It's a classic negging technique. He's trying to lower your self-esteem."

Gloria felt a surge of relief. "So he's not actually done with me?"

"Please," Hettie snorted. "He's obsessed with you. Did you see the way he looked at you at the Zeta formal? He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. Men don't just stop feeling that way overnight."

Gloria reached for her phone. She looked at the blocked status on her messages. "Then why did he block me?"

"To make you panic," Hettie said. "And it worked. Look at you. You're a mess. Tomorrow, we're going to find out where he moved. I heard a rumor he's at The Kensington."

"The Kensington?" Gloria's nose wrinkled. "That's so far from the Greek row."

"He's hiding," Hettie said. "He wants to see if you'll go looking for him. We'll go there tomorrow afternoon. We'll 'accidentally' be in the area for a coffee run. When he sees you, he'll fold like a house of cards."

Gloria smiled, the charcoal mask cracking around her mouth. "You're right. He's just a boy. And I'm Gloria Talley."

She didn't see the way Hettie's eyes flickered with a brief moment of annoyance. Hettie didn't actually care if Brendon came back. She just wanted Gloria to stop crying so they could go to the club.

"I'll get him a gift," Gloria decided. "Something expensive. But I'll make sure the bill goes to his father's office. That'll show him I'm still in control."

"Perfect," Hettie said. "Now, can we please get dressed? The party started twenty minutes ago."

Gloria stood up and headed for the bathroom to wash off her mask. She felt powerful again. She was the Queen, and Brendon Hampton was just a rebellious subject who needed to be reminded of his place.

She had no idea that at that very moment, Brendon was watching Kiera Richards sleep through the crack in her bedroom door, his heart breaking in a way that Gloria Talley could never understand.