Chapter Text
The Stellenbosch sun was brutal, baking the cobblestone streets and throwing long, sharp shadows across the university campus. Greg Owen squinted against the glare, the backpack heavy on one shoulder, mind running in circles like a hamster on a wheel. He kept replaying the last three years of his life like a broken record: his dad in prison, his own naïve hands exposing his family’s secrets, and Xander Gericke’s smirk, that infuriating, infuriating smirk.
“Oi, Greg! Stop looking like a brooding statue and grab a smoke!”
Greg turned just in time to see Plank leaning lazily against a tree, bucket hat crooked, blond hair sticking out in every direction, Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, bum shorts practically shouting “I’m here for summer vacation,” and plakkies flipping with every shuffle of his feet. In his hand, a joint glowed softly.
“Plank…” Greg groaned. “It’s ten in the morning. How do you even function?”
Plank grinned like a mischievous golden retriever. “Function? Who said I function? I exist, my man. And also…” He held the joint out with a flourish, “this exists.”
Greg waved him off but secretly let out a sigh. Plank was ridiculous, infuriating, completely irresponsible—but somehow, he kept Greg grounded. Or maybe he just made the world a little less bleak.
“I’m not here for a lecture, I need—” Greg started, then cut himself off. The word “help” felt bitter in his mouth. He needed Xander’s help.
The thought alone made his stomach churn. Three years. Three long, miserable years since Xander disappeared without a trace. He had hated him, cursed him, and yes—he’d still sometimes felt the ghost of the crush that had burned quietly through his final year of matric. That crush had ended in betrayal, in pain, in his father’s imprisonment.
And now… now Greg needed that same boy.
Plank tilted his head, squinting. “You’ve got that look,” he said, flicking ash into the air. “The one that says, ‘I’m gonna do something really stupid and probably get stabbed.’ What are you planning?”
Greg shook his head. “I have to find him.”
Plank nearly choked on his laughter. “Him? Who, the omega snake who tricked you into… you know… all that matric drama?”
Greg clenched his fists. “That omega snake who knows things. Who knows the kind of people I can’t touch… the people who got away with everything while my dad rotted in jail. I need him to help me track the baker.”
Plank whistled. “The baker? That sounds… ominous.”
Greg’s jaw tightened. “I don’t even know who he is. Just a name. Someone smart, dangerous… someone who slipped through every crack. But I’m not letting him get away.”
Plank flicked his ash and shrugged. “Sounds like a mission, bro. Adventure, danger, maybe even some ladies… you in?”
Greg groaned. “Plank, focus. I can’t do this alone. I… I need Xander.”
Plank’s grin turned sly. “Ah… that explains the brooding statue look. Careful, man. Last time you tangled with that guy, it ended with… well, disaster.”
Greg’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t need the reminder. Every misstep, every manipulation, every lost trust—it all led here. And yet, somewhere deep down, under the anger and bitterness, a tiny spark of… something else flickered.
Xander Gericke was out there. Somewhere. And Greg Owen was going to find him.