Chapter Text
"Nope, nope," Chase wrung his hands for the millionth time, pacing across the locker room floor.
"It'll be fine!" Deacon groaned, massaging the tension from his temple.
Chase paced ceaselessly, switching between chewing on his lip to his thumb. "You don't understand." He breathed, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and twisting stomach.
"I do understand-"
"You don't!"
"You've not shut up about it since you found out, so I'm pretty sure I do, Chase!" Deacon ran his hand through his hair. "And you'll still do great no matter who you compete against."
Nox Keystone wasn't meant to perform against him already. Not until they both made it to the end of these preliminaries. A glorious battle that Chase had been looking forward to all year long.
It was supposed to be Simon Grays! Someone he knew and was familiar with, and was pretty confident they were on the same skill level. Easy peasy! But of course, Simon had to go and get injured (Chase made sure he was fine. He'd found that Simon was happily vegging out with an ankle brace in his room earlier). But because of that, they had to change the entire order of contestants!
His heart picked up its pace, and he pressed his fingers into the rough green glitter sparkling above it. "But this is the Orion, Deacon! The Archer! The best of the best! Nox Keystone! I mean- how am I supposed to even compete against him? What if I lose?" Chase sucked in a breath of air and grabbed his hair in both hands dramatically. "Oh God! Deacon, what if I'm better?! He'll hate me!"
Deacon finally stood from the bench where he sat, "I don't see how that's a bad thing. Besides, all that really matters for nationals is your points. You aren't actually competing, remember?" If a voice could facepalm, Deacon's did.
"What do you mean, Dorkin! Of course we are!" Chase's shoulders slacked with disbelief. "Just because it isn't elimination competing, doesn't mean it isn't real!" He narrowed his eyes at his cousin. "How could you even say such a thing?"
There was a long moment where Deacon looked at him like he'd just said the most ridiculous thing he could think to say. Then he blinked it away and grabbed Chase by the shoulders. "Look…" Deacon started, "Him being your opponent was a last-minute change, but Aunt Myra's out there! You have no other choice but to be great. And if Nox Keystone can't handle that, then that's a him problem, right?" Deacon ruffled Chase's hair, prompting him to swat his hand away.
"Well, I can't be perfect if you mess up my hair!" Chase hissed, voice dipping back into its usual octave.
"There he is," Deacon smiled, giving him a knowing look before clapping Chase on the shoulder.
Chase blinked, then felt his whole being light up, "Wait, mom was able to make it?! I thought her flight was way delayed!"
"I might have been able to pull a few strings and get her an earlier flight," Deacon said, giving him a goofy smile and crossing his arms smugly.
"You. Are. The best!" Chase praised, wrapping his arms around Deacon's waist and lifting him a few inches off the ground in a bear hug.
Deacon let out a strangled noise, "Hrrgg, I know, I know! Put me down, please!" Chase released his cousin per his request, but only after giving him one last squeeze that had Deacon looking winded.
After taking a breath for himself, Deacon checks his watch, "We should get out there. Let's see if Nox is worth all the money you've spent on posters."
Chase flushed and punched Deacon in the shoulder. "He is, shut up!" He glances down at himself, presses his lips together, then quickly walks over to the mirror.
Chase adjusted his ombred blue and seafoam skirt and shifted his puffy sleeves to sit correctly at his wrists while he chewed lightly on his lip. He heard Deacon opening the heavy door, and the shifted lighting shimmered on the sequins that lined his body.
It drew his eye to the cut of his neckline, and he traced it with a finger. It draped loosely over his shoulders and sat well below his collarbone. His brows furrowed as his eyes dipped to the star cut out around his belly button and the fact that he was wearing shorts instead of pants. It was easily the most skin he'd shown in an outfit so far. He worried around the edge of his sleeves again. Wondering if it was too much or too little.
"Are you done preening?" Deacon asked dryly, standing in the open doorway, waiting for him. "We have like, five minutes, dude."
Chase took a steadying breath, straightened his spine, smiled at his reflection, and pushed his fingers through his hair. Silvie did an amazing job, as usual, and anyone would be foolish not to see how cute he looked in it. He was fussing for no reason.
"Right," Chase breathed, grabbing his skates in one hand and walking toward the door.
"Not putting your skates on?" Deacon asked as the door shut hard behind them.
Chase was already making his way quickly down the hallway in his socks, "I'll have time when we get to the green room. Silvie and whoever she's up against are before us." He says over his shoulder.
Turning a corner, Chase stopped dead, nearly toppling over himself. "Oh! Chase!" Silvie pressed her hand to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there."
"Whoa, speak of the heroine, and she shall appear!" Chase raised his hands to his side in surrender.
Silvie looked him up and down, and he watched as her face lit up, "Oh, it looks amazing! I knew it would!" She clapped her hands in front of her with a little excited bounce.
Silver was also wearing one of her own. A mostly white outfit, lined in silvery glitter with tight-fitting sleeves and trousers. The skirt around her waist was smaller than the one she'd made for him, but it was elegant and flowed with the natural shape of her legs.
"What can I say? I have an amazing tailor." Chase winked and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they made their way down the hallway. "But look at you! Goin' all out in the first round, huh? Nervous?"
Silvie gave him one of her signature smiles that said she was ready for the entire world to collapse if it came to be, "Naturally, but my brother and I are always compared to one another, so I'm quite used to it."
"Oh shoot, so you got Goldie as your first opponent?" Chase asked. Godrick was her older brother, though most called him Goldie since he'd received the nickname 'The Golden Sun' by fans a few years ago.
She hummed in acknowledgement as they rounded a corner, "Who's your opponent?"
Chase swallowed and removed his arm from Silvie's shoulder to hook his thumb on his belt, trying to look as casual as possible. "Nox Keystone," Chase groaned.
Silvie laughed, actually laughed at his pain, and Chase gave her an offended look,
"I thought you'd be excited to skate against your idol." She teased, poking his surely red cheek.
"I-I mean… Yes, I am…" He assured, standing up straighter. "I'm just-" He stilled, in the hallway, eyes locked on the doorway into the Green Room.
Nox Keystone had just walked in. Chase didn't entirely catch what he was wearing, only that it was dark and left a good bit of his shoulders and chest exposed. He swallowed, "Nervous."
Silvie elbowed his side gently, "You? Nervous?"
"What?" Chase said a bit absently, finally looking back toward Silvie. "N-no! Of course not. I'm not nervous at all!" Chase crossed his arms, skates pressing into his side, and continued toward the doors. "He doesn't know what's comin'!"
Behind him, he heard Deacon sigh, and Silvie follow it up with a small laugh. He ignored them, though, zeroing in on the door. And before he could chicken out of it, he grabbed the handle, swung it open, and held it for the other two as they followed him in.
It was a dimly lit room, situated right on the edge of the ice. Big enough to fit maybe twelve people without being cramped. On the other side, one-way windows provided them with a clear view out onto the ice on the other side. Better than front row seats to everyone's performances. A walled-off staircase near the door led up to where Chase assumed the announcers would be sitting. The judges, naturally, were on the other side of the rink, where none of the skaters or their coaches could potentially interfere with them in their booth.
Chase's eyes, perhaps instinctively, found Nox Keystone, standing close to the windows. He wore a deep blue outfit that cut low on his chest. His eyes hadn't been deceiving him before because it did indeed leave most of his shoulders exposed. His sleeves were long, though, and triangled over the top of his hands. White fabric roses were bunched and sewn into his left arm and right hip like small bouquets. Circles were cut out on his thighs, and Chase noticed that the small frill below the roses was longer on the right side.
His breath caught painfully in his throat when Nox glanced toward the movement of the closing door. The dark glitter swirling on his outfit catches in the retreating light, and Chase tries not to stall his entrance.
He feels more than sees Nox's icy gaze drag over him for a moment before his attention is returned to talking to his coach. A stoic-faced woman with deep purple hair, tied in victory rolls. She seemed to look down at everyone else in the room, even without looking at them, and her hip was cocked out in a way that said the world owed her something, and that something was everything it had to offer.
Deacon pressed a hand into Chase's back and guided him to one of the walls lined with benches. Chase blinked his sanity back into control and cleared his throat before sitting.
He ended up taking more time than was necessary getting his skates on. And perhaps that had to do with the fact that he couldn't seem to stop catching glances of the black-haired boy at the other end of the room.
He tried focusing on something else and instead glanced around at the other competitors. He wasn't as familiar with most of them, but anyone would be able to spot Goldie in a crowd. He stood nearly a foot taller than everyone else, clad in a signature golden suit, dazzled in more sequins than Chase and Silvie combined.
He shot a quick look toward Silvie. She'd do great against Goldie, she always did. And with a now steady look at Nox, Chase told himself the same thing. He'd do great. They both would, but Chase would make sure he did better.
"Good evening, everyone! I'm Tom, and I'm joined by my co-host, Dale, for the long-awaited Crystal Slope Competitions!"
"That's right! Now, for many of our contestants, this is the last competition before being eligible for nationals. Is that correct?"
"It is! And we're seeing many returning faces competing for that final boost into the top ranks in the country. An exciting time!"
"Indeed! Many of the fan favorites will be returning this year, as well as a few new faces, I hear?"
"Yes! We have a few new skaters joining the ranks. I'm excited to see what kind of competition they bring to the table."
The announcers continued their introduction speech, and Chase finally managed to tune it out. Silvie against Godrick were the first pair to compete, then it would be himself against The Archer. Nerves wracked his body at the thought of having to wait, but he pushed them back down. He was going to win, or get pretty damn close trying! And maybe it wouldn't be a terrible thing if it were Nox Keystone beating him, but he steeled himself against the idea. He'd win. And then he'd say hello… Solid plan.
Silvie stepped up to the magnet-connected mesh between the windows that led out into the ice and cast a bright smile to her brother, then to Chase. He returned it with a quick "Break a leg!"
"First onto the ice, we're introducing Silvie Locksmith! Performing Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish."
Chase watched Silvie glide out onto the ice from where he sat near the window.
"It's no wonder they call her the Silver Stream with an entrance like that."
Chase found himself agreeing with the announcers as Silvie made her way across the ice, waving and smiling into the audience as she came to the center. The trail of her silver gown indeed looked like a sparkling stream of silver in a world of ice.
As the music started, Chase shifted in his seat to get a better view of her performance. It was elegant and beautiful like always, and watching it made him feel a sense of pride that he could call her one of his best friends. A string of excitement for her distracted him from the dark-haired boy in his peripheral vision. Silvie had a very similar style to the Archer. Like a flower peddle slowly gliding its way to the ground. Gentle and altogether captivating in a way nothing else could be.
Chase had tried studying it once. He'd tried forcing himself to slow down, but always defaulted to bold and abrupt. Deacon's oh-so-wise advice was to work on changing up his style for next year. Something about his current style might work his first time trying to get to nationals, but they'll start expecting something different for the next go around. But he could worry about—and ask Silvie for lessons—later. After he made it to nationals the first time.
Silvie finished her routine with a chorus of applause that followed her back into the Green Room.
"That was amazing!" Chase beamed, standing to hug her.
"Oh, thank you, Chase!" She grabbed her bottle of water from the bench. "I always feel much better once my turn is out of the way!" She cheered, turning to her brother and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Think you can still beat me?"
Instead of answering, Goldie picked her up in a tight embrace, which Silvie seemed to barely react to aside from a trail of giggling. "What a glorious way to start the festivities, dear sister! If I am to beat you, it shall be my greatest accomplishment yet!"
"You say that every time, Godrick," She noted.
"And every time it is a true statement!" He beamed, setting his sister down and stepping close to the mesh to await his announcement.
"It's always an exciting event when the Locksmith siblings compete against one another, wouldn't you agree?"
"Absolutely! And naturally, next up we have Godrick Locksmith, performing Gracious by Ben Howard!"
Goldie steps out onto the ice, and Chase watches with Silvie as he makes his jovial way to the center of the rink.
His performance is elegant in an entirely separate way from Silvie's. Bolder in the way Chase thought he could be, but still holding the control of someone with the power of a sun.
When he finished, Chase felt some ease seep back into his stomach. He was last of their set of four, but somehow watching Silvie and Goldie go first made him feel better. Deacon was right; he worked hard to nail his routine every practice for the past week. He could do this.
Goldie bowed to the crowd, inspiring them to cheer as he made his way back into the Green Room. Silvie, despite being his competitor, immediately crowded her brother, gushing over how he performed one thing or another and wondering how she could implement the same thing into her next piece. They may be competing, but they had always been more of a pair than not.
Chase sent an award-winning smile toward Goldie, then shifted his attention to Orion. The Archer was next up and, despite being a fan of his for two years now, Chase had never watched one of his performances in person. They always seemed to miss each other, competing on opposite sides of the nation back and forth in a way that just never lined up until now.
The Archer's coach made an entire show of looking down at her watch before pressing an elegant hand to his back and urging him toward the mesh screen.
Chase watched as he stood there, rolled his shoulders, and stepped out onto the ice just as the announcer's voice cut through the nervous silence of the room. Perfectly on time, like always.
"Introducing, Nox Keystone! Performing Beneath the Brine by The Family Crest."
Chase made sure the rubber guards on his skates were secure before standing and walking toward one of the windows.
"That's right! A brand new routine, along with the rest of his to be seen during this event."
"Exciting! He's blown us away so far, earning the nickname among fans as The Archer, Orion. Now, why do you think that is, Tom?"
Behind him, he could hear the others in the room grow quieter as the already dim lights of the Green Room dimmed further.
"I'm not entirely sure, Dale, but he absolutely lives up to the power of a name like that."
Chase watched Nox still at the center of the rink, raising one hand in the form of a gun parallel to his nose. "It's because of his insane accuracy," Chase whispered to himself. And as if on cue, the music started, Nox's head straightened, and the cold fire of his gaze burned through Chase as he began.
He spun into the notes, letting them guide him across the ice. Gentle yet bold. Chase watched his signature triple axel lift him effortlessly from the ground. Nox held the world's attention with his body. Held Chase's attention. Breathless and awestruck with each elegant, choreographed spiral.
And when the lyrics kicked in, the song felt as though it was made for this moment. Nox commanded it on the ice.
Each movement is flawless and beautiful. Different, though, Chase noted. It was different seeing it in person, from the level of the ice instead of through the lens of an overhead camera. Every turn and wave of his hand, every spiral and combination spin had Chase smiling like a fool as he watched from the window, like a kid watching cotton candy being made for the first time. He felt like he was watching something being made for the first time. Something that clicked right with the universe.
As the vocalist tore through the world with his heart splitting into words, Nox performed another camel spin that spiraled into a beautiful arabesque. Chase wasn't sure he'd ever seen something so magnificent. And he realized it was new. Something Chase had never seen Nox do before. Curling in and spiraling upward with the elegance of a ballerina but the intensity of someone fighting for their life. Like the moon caught in a field of stars.
The word captivated suddenly fell woefully short of whatever was buzzing through Chase's soul.
And as the song tapered down, calmer, Nox drew into himself once more, sliding out from the spin, hydroblading into a finishing pose.
All at once, Chase realized he was meant to follow that act. And all at once, a small kernel of real panic seeded itself in his gut at the idea.
A silly, competitive little smile spreads across his face despite it, and he grabs his phone from his bag. Muscle memory dragged him to Spotify, where he quickly searched 'beneath the brine' and added it to a playlist named '☽Orion☾'.
"You're doing that now?" Deacon's voice over his shoulder pulled him from his phone.
"No time like the present!" He chimed, cheeks straining with forced nonchalance. Chase realized his knee was shaking. He tried to stop the nervous tic by placing a hand over it.
Deacon scoffed, but there was no venom in it. "You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Chase squared his shoulders. "Gotta make mom proud, right?"
Deacon grabbed his hand and pulled him into a bro-hug, patting his back reassuringly. "Hell yeah, you do!"
"Good luck, Chase!" Silvie called from behind Deacon.
Chase waved an appreciative hand at her before removing the protective rubber guards from his blades.
The Archer pushed past the mesh back into the green room. His chest was still heaving from the exertion, but his eyes glowed as if he had come to life. And maybe he had. He always did when he performed. That subtle thrum of adrenaline still buzzing beneath the surface of his skin.
His coach handed him a bottle of water, which he took and began draining like a vampire who had been starved for centuries.
"Man, that is a tough act to follow! I don't envy his competitor, Tom!"
A piercing azure gaze shifted and caught on a head of blond hair as he drank. A honey-gold gaze caught it, widened, face flushed, and turned quickly to stare out onto the ice, waiting for his cue to enter the rink.
"Neigher do I, Dale. But this one may be promising. He's risen in the ranks in his home state at a near record-breaking speed over the last few years! I think we're all excited to see what he brings to the table here!"
"Introducing Chase Hollow! Performing Record Player by Daisy the Great and AJR!"
A plastered, practiced smile glared its way rather obnoxiously onto the Chase's face before he stepped out onto the ice.
"And is this his first time competing out of state?"
"It is! I believe people have been dubbing him The Rising Star."
Nox emptied the bottle, crumpled and useless, and tossed it into the nearby trash can. Something about that name caught his attention, and he remembers seeing clips floating around of a similarly blond-haired boy dubbed by the same title.
"Another title that holds a lot of power, let's see what he's got!"
His style was far more abrupt than Nox's own, if he was remembering the clips correctly. Nox had a more abrupt style on that final rise of the song, something he wasn't used to and still wasn't entirely confident he'd done well. Even while Violet was chittering in his ear about how flawlessly he'd performed it… Along with a few chastizements for his two stumbled landings.
As the music started—immediately into a steady beat—Nox stepped toward the window to watch. He'd failed to study his opponent's style before the switch in schedule. Something he still lamented. But if this was indeed The Rising Star he'd heard about and seen here and there over various social media, they might just be different enough to warrant an actual threat.
And judging by the way the music seemed to grasp this star and carry him, fast and intense across the ice, Nox might just be right about that.
He floated, sharp and precise with every turn of the blade. Rapid and wild. Like a fire blazing between trees. Untamed and utterly devastating. The peppy beat and feeling of the song felt painfully juxtaposed with the intensity of the Rising Star's performance.
Each lutz and axel hit like a blow, and Nox couldn't help that his breath bated within his lungs. He waited and watched for any sign of a misstep or fumble. Any landing that didn't look quite right. But nothing. His opponent was performing each move with precision that cut like a knife right into the two fumbled landings that Nox had been ruminating over since they happened.
The Rising Star slowed and performed a drawn-out arabesque that drew him close to the ground, rising again with the final lyric of the song and landing his finishing pose without fault.
Nox felt his eyes glued to the boy, assessing every aspect of him. Every rapid rise and fall of his chest, each of his bows, the way he lined the ring, waving and throwing kisses into the crowd, as if he didn't have a care in the world.
The Archer presses a fist to his mouth as Chase reenters the Green Room. His icy gaze follows him the way a hawk might watch a mouse scurrying away to safety. Perturbed and incredulous.
But Chase isn't paying much mind to him. Too full of adrenaline and his coach wrapping him in a congradulatory bear hug and telling him how proud he was of his routine. Two other skaters, Silvie and Godrick, quickly join him in his attempt to strangle the air from the little skater.
"Chase, that was amazing!" Silvie nearly topples him over with her embrace, and Chase leans into it with his entire soul.
"An outstanding performance from our Rising Star, and we can easily see how he got that nickname!"
"Indeed! The judges are still collaborating on points, but I have a feeling that one will be close! Silvie and Godrick Locksmith both have complementary styles to one another, but Nox Keystone and Chase Hollow seem to be quite the opposite pairing."
"Yes, I'm eager to see how the judges will approach their unique styles when giving the execution points!"
»»————> ☆●☆ <————««
The green room buzzed with quiet anticipation once the last of the skaters finished their routine and they all waited for the judge's scoring.
Chase can't seem to stop glancing at Nox. The Archer, on the other hand, was the picture of calm and collected. Chase wasn't sure his expression had changed the entire time since he'd returned to the Green Room. His coach buzzed around him now and then. She seemed to fuss with his outfit here and there, or talk quietly while showing him something on her phone. Each time she did, Chase noticed the smallest of changes. An uptick or furrow in his brow. Small, subtle, but noticeable to anyone paying attention.
Which he was…
Chase looked away quickly and realized that if he didn't look like a creepy fan before, he certainly did now if he was staring at Nox long enough to know what his eyebrows were doing.
"And the results are in!"
He pushed his ruminating thoughts of his opponent away and stood up from his chair, eyes immediately looking toward the television mounted in the corner of the room.
"Here we can see that the Locksmith siblings came quite close to one another in points, nearly a tie!"
"Yes, only a few decimals off from one another, yet it seems Goldie has taken the lead for the Crystal Slope competitions!"
Chase ignored a few whistles that sounded off behind him. Silvie, despite losing, still congratulated her brother on his win, promising to bring him down the next time they're paired up together.
As the screen shifted to showing highlights of both siblings' routines, Chase tried to remind himself that the pairings were more or less cosmetic for the fans. Something to get them riled up about who was better than who. Something to give them someone to cheer for between two competitors. What really ensured your spot in the next round was the number of points you were able to score.
Still, as the screen changed to show his own score against Nox Keystone, Chase found himself holding his breath.
"Now here's another close race! The Archer versus the Rising Star."
"I can see now why he's earned that nickname! To go up against Nox Keystone and win out in the end in the first rounds is no easy feat!"
"Holy shit," Chase breathed, thinking he heard his echo somewhere behind him.
His mind reeled with shock and awe, but right there on the screen showed his score just four points ahead of The Archer. Both were still overqualified for the next rounds and had guaranteed spots, of course. But as Deacon nearly knocked him to the ground with an arm around his shoulder, Chase found himself laughing rather uncontrollably.
"Holy shit, dude!" Chase exclaimed, turning and lifting Deacon in a spinning hug. "Can you believe that?!"
"Man, I knew you could do it!" Deacon exclaimed, watching as the television replayed highlights from Chase's routine, edited and spliced with star motifs.
Silvie casts him a bright smile and a wave before turning toward the door, where he recognizes their parents on the other side waiting in the hallway.
"Ahh!" He grabbed Deacon's shoulders, "I gotta go see mom!" He sits down and starts untying his skates. "Could you go meet her? I'll catch up!"
"Yeah, man, don't be too long though," Deacon glanced behind Chase, and he followed his cousin's gaze. Nox was still watching the television, now playing reruns of his own routine. Chase turned back to Deacon.
He didn't even have to voice his concern before Deacon leaned in to whisper, "If you don't say hi to him now, you'll combust, and I really don't want to clean up that mess. Just get it over with, dude."
Chase rolled his eyes and kicked his first skate off. "Yeah, fine, whatever… Thanks."
Excitement rolled over his shoulders like a warm, comforting blanket. The contest results still bright behind his eyes as Deacon leaves the Green Room with a small but deliberate good luck.
Kicking off his other skate, he quickly places the guards back on and puts them into their bag. Nox is still watching the television, fist pressed over his mouth, eyes narrowed in some sort of thought. Would it be weird to interrupt him? He looked a bit… Intense…
But as the other contestants slowly started filtering their way from the green room back out into the hallway, Chase watched him. And every single silent retreat and glance stolen over the last two weeks since they arrived at the event center flooded into his memory. The number of times he'd planned on saying hello and chickened out at the last minute, or caught a glance of his intensely blue eyes and immediately shut the hell up, racked up in amounts he could no longer keep track of.
Deacon was right; if he didn't say hello now, after two weeks of dodging and weaving around the guy, Chase was going to combust. And he felt a sense of pride in himself that he was able to perform a routine that was on par with Nox Keystone!
So he used that confidence boost and made his way over to his competitor. He sidled up next to him and watched as the television continued its highlight reel. "Hey, so uh… You did amazing out there." He started, casting a wayward smile up at him.
Nox's eyes slowly—almost painfully so—shifted from the screen down to Chase. And holy shit, Chase was actually standing next to him. Close enough to see the ice in that gaze. To feel it. To feel the heat of his body against his side and actually hear him breathing. All of which he was absolutely managing to keep a tight leash on lest he show any of that starstruck wonder on his face. Though it may have been glowing in his eyes.
Nox's eyes, however, narrowed into a glare, brows deep below his bang line, and the corner of his lip twitched, like he was looking at a moldy old sock that had decided to become sentient one day and talk to him.
Chase's smile faltered, and he swallowed back the heart that was currently trying to escape out of his throat. "Uh… Nox, right?" Nox right? He immediately chastised himself. Of course, it was Nox, who else would it be?! "I'm uh… Chase! Though you probably already knew that," He laughed nervously and held out a hand. "Nice to meet you… L-like officially and all."
Nox looked down at the offered hand like it might infect him with some disease.
"Nox," Came the voice of his coach from somewhere behind Chase. The Archer, without meeting Chase's gaze, looked past him like he wasn't even there. "Come on, we'll be late."
Chase staggered back suddenly as Nox shoved past him, knocking his shoulder in a way that felt entirely intentional.
He watched, crestfallen and flabbergasted, as Nox Keystone left Chase Hollow alone in the Green Room without a single word or glance at his expense.