Chapter Text
Virgil Summers wasn’t the kind of kid people would describe as ‘nice.’ In fact, ask any of his classmates about him and they would probably glance away, not willing to say a bad word against him in case wind of it got back to Dark Sides. Virgil, however, wasn’t bad at all when compared to the others.
Janus Flynn. The leader of the school, he had the entire school wrapped around his finger. In the hallways, people scrambled out of their ways to avoid him. The other students weren’t afraid to say a bad word about Janus- they were afraid to say a word about him.
Remus was much more chaotic than the other two and way less manipulative, but that unpredictability was what scared everyone else. When he approached you, you could never be sure whether he was going to ask for a match or dump sheep intestines down your shirt(both had happened before).
The only student who had ever dared oppose the system was Logan Swift, the smartest scientist of their grade. He was clever and witty and would’ve made a good addition to the Dark Sides, Janus had once remarked to Virgil. But unfortunately for him, he had chosen to directly counter Janus’s will. Virgil remembered the day clearly. The other students had fallen silent and most had fled. Janus’s face had turned stone cold as he faced down Swift.
Virgil knew from experience that when Janus’s face goes cold, it’s your signal to run.
Logan, apparently, did not know this.
Logan almost certainly regretted not knowing it, and without a doubt, he had gone home that day and written it down in that little notebook of his where he stored all of the important notes.
Virgil almost felt sorry for Swift.
Almost.
Logan never opposed Janus again.
Virgil remembered all of this clearly. He also remembered the day when Janus had approached him at lunch for the first time.
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“Hey,” he had said, sliding his tray across from Virgil at the table. Don’t flinch, don’t flinch, don’t flinch, don’t show any weakness, his mind whispered. Virgil shot Janus an unamused look.
“What do you want?” he had said, because Janus Flynn didn’t just approach someone to make friends.
Janus raised an eyebrow and tugged down the ends of his gloves gracefully. He never took his eyes off of Virgil, leaning forward across the table, hands crossed, food long forgotten.
“I’d like to formally offer you an invitation to sit with Remus and I at our table tomorrow at lunch. We think you’d make an excellent Dark Side.”
Virgil froze. Was- was Janus asking Virgil to join the Dark Sides? The popular clique, feared by everyone. His eyebrows furrowed at the implications of what that would mean for him and his social status. Janus frowned at Virgil’s expression.
“Is there something wrong, Summers?” he asked coldly.
Virgil jumped slightly. He wasn’t aware Janus even knew he existed, much less what his name was or who he was.
“No,” he said, swallowing his fear. “No problem.”
Janus eyed him for one moment more. “This isn't an offer. I’ll see you tomorrow, Summers.”
---
Virgil grabbed his lunch tray and sauntered over to the Dark Sides’ table. He knew his place now, and his place was at the right hand of Janus Flynn. And if that meant terrorizing anyone who opposed him from time to time, who was Virgil to complain? He had friends now, people cared who he was now. He wasn’t a loner, he wasn’t a nobody. He was Virgil Summers, the Dark Side.
“Virge,” Janus greeted with a head nod.
“Hey,” Virgil said, sliding into his seat. Remus punched him in the shoulder. He hid his wince at the sheer pressure and grinned at Remus. “Hello, dumbass.”
“Bitch,” Remus replied absentmindedly, chewing on something that looked suspiciously like a dead frog.
Janus clapped his hands together after a second. “Guess who bumped into me today?”
Virgil swallowed his bite of food, fearing the answer. “Who?” Who do we need to bully? was the unspoken question, and Janus smiled knowingly, leaning in like it was some big conspiracy.
“Roman Stone,” he whispered, and Remus spit out his sickly green colored drink.
“That bastard,” Remus growled. He looked ready to stand up and pummel Roman himself, but Janus soothed him with a hand on his forearm.
“I know, I know,” Janus said sympathetically. “I’m so sorry for you.”
Virgil’s brain was working in overtime. “Why does he have the same last name as Remus?”
Remus spat on the ground, a venomous look in his eyes. “He’s my stupid step-brother.”
Virgil made a noise of understanding in the back of his throat. “Why haven’t I realized this before?”
“Re doesn’t like talking about him,” Janus supplied. “For good reason too, he’s an embarrassment compared to Remus, I mean, a choir kid and a theater kid? He’s practically asking for it. He’s the one in red.”
Janus pointed a gloved finger and Virgil followed it to a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. He could see a boy with red tips in his dark brunette hair. He was wearing a red and white jacket and jeans. Roman, presumably, sat with two other guys, one blond in a blue skirt and cream top, and one was- Logan Swift?
“Is that Swift?” Virgil asked, unsure if he was seeing correctly.
Janus smiled eerily. “It sure is.”
Virgil looked back at Janus’s tone of voice and nearly flinched at the unsettling look in his eyes.
“So what do you want me to do?” Virgil asked, resigning himself to whatever vandalism or shit Janus wanted him to do.
Janus Flynn tilted his head to the side in thought. “Say, Virgil,” he said, face stretching into a smirk. “I dare you to befriend him.”
Virgil watched Roman a moment longer. A smile stretched onto his face, identical to Janus’s smirk. “Deal,” he said, absolutely prepared for what he had gotten himself into.