In a cramped suffocating room over at the LAPD precinct, the stale, unyielding air felt thick, weighed down by years of blood, smoke, and unanswered questions. Every wall was a tapestry of horror. Corkboards lined every available space, each crammed with crime scene photos, maps, timelines, news clippings and hastily scribbled theories, each document bearing the grisly weight of the past three years. Images of mutilated bodies, burned and battered remains, glared from the walls like silent spectres.

Gary rubbed his temple, frowning as he scanned a particularly brutal set of photos pinned to the board with Lt. Vega by his side. Across the room, a CSI officer murmured to another, exchanging grim nods as they handed over the fresh crime scene photos from the Ferguson and Ganz case. "This doesn't add up." Gary muttered, flipping through the photographs again. "Kids, David. Why the hell would he target high school girls? That hasn't been the Boogeyman's pattern at all."

David rubbed his temples, exhaustion was evident in every line of his face. "I don't fit with the random hits we've been chasing. But the brutality...the way they were hung, gutted—it's one we've seen only twice before."

"Holly. And that damn studio." Gary grunted.

The mention of his wife's name stung like salt in a wound. David's gaze hardened, flicking to the wall where a faded newspaper clipping showed Holly's case among the Boogeyman's earliest victims.

In the corner, a younger detective named Morales spoke up, her voice tentative. "You think maybe it's not the Boogeyman? Could be a copycat, or…someone with a grudge against these girls?"

David shook his head slowly. "If it's a copycat, they nailed the display and the brutality right down to the detail. I hate to say it, but it's his style." His voice was low, each word strained.

Gary leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he scanned the carnage again. "But Sole Cinema Studio—that wasn't the Boogeyman's style either. Sure, those bodies were mutilated and incinerated like the other times the son of bitch killed... but that felt…personal, not random. We're looking at two different M.O.s."

David flinched, jaw tightening. The Sole Cinema Studio massacre had been particularly close to him, a grotesque chapter of his own daughter's pain, her violated innocence avenged by a brutal carnage that had made national news. His hands curled into fists at the memory.

"Sole Cinema was… different." Gary ground out. "That wasn't clean like these other hits. Whoever did that wanted to make sure they suffered, that went beyond simply killing them."

David didn't respond immediately, his face a mask of barely contained fury. "My daughter suffered through hell in that we filed charges, the people responsible walked, right out of the courtroom, untouched."He paused, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "Then, that shit happened."

Gary sighed, looking down at his hands."Sole Cinema was messy, David, but we're dealing with something here that's more than just Cinema was a statement, sure, but it's not part of the Boogeyman's rampage."

"You think so?" David clenched his teeth, looking back at the photos of Hayley and Tara, their innocence destroyed in a manner as gruesome as Holly's. "We can't ignore the fact that it's a similar display." he said. "And if the Boogeyman's evolving… then what's his endgame?"

The room fell silent, the weight of hundreds of lives lost, pressing down on them. The walls, covered in corkboards and coloured string, seemed to close in, the faces of victims haunting every inch. Pictures of bodies drained of blood faces frozen in fear, limbs twisted and torn—every brutal detail cataloged in the endless, obsessive drive to find the man responsible.

After a moment, Morales spoke again. "Do you think he's working alone?" She glanced around, hesitant. "We've tossed around the idea of a partner, or even a cult—maybe that's why we can't find a pattern. What if there's a whole network of people following this guy?"

Gary scoffed, though his tone wasn't entirely dismissive. "A network of psychos just ripping through the city? We'd have noticed something."

David's jaw set, gaze distant. "Or maybe they're hiding in plain sight. With his reach and his ruthlessness, nothing's off the table anymore with Ferguson and Ganz being killed. After all, the Boogeyman knows how to blend in—he could be anyone."

Silence fell once more. The detectives around them stared at the files, the photos, and each other, knowing that the answer was somewhere in this mess of bodies and blood.

Back in Hollywood Arts, inside the Black Box theatre, where the scattered set pieces and props are strewn across the stage. Tori lounged at center stage, legs crossed, exuding an air of impatience as she rattled off ideas for the Senior Showcase. Her crew stood around, half-listening, visibly exhausted, but too intimidated to argue. She sauntered over, all confidence and attitude, flipping her hair. "So, for my showcase." she began, her voice dripping with the kind of self-assuredness that only she could manage, "I'm thinking… something seductive." she drawled, flipping her hair back dramatically. "I mean, we all know that sex sells right? What better way to send me off than with a little tease? Keep'emall wishing they could have just one more year with me." she winks at one of her boytoys in her crew. "I'm telling you, people want to see me. They don't want some generic 'coming-of-age' piece. They want…presence." She drew out the word like it was gold. "I mean, I know they'll eat it up the second I turn up the sex appeal. Don't you think?"

André let out a small, sarcastic laugh, still focusing on his guitar. "Right, because that's what the arts are about. Tori Vega in a push-up bra and half a song."

"Something funny, André?" Tori asked.

He rolled his eyes, strumming a loud, discordant chord. "Nah, just didn't realize we were doing 'Tori Vega: The Self-Appointed Goddess' for our last show. Thought we were supposed to showcase our talent, not…whatever this is." he said, gesturing at her dramatically. "Maybe I'm just tired of listening to you hype yourself up. You wanna keep talkin' about your 'tease' routine, go for 't need to be a part of it."

Tori narrowed her eyes at him. "If you've got a problem, you can just say it instead of sitting there like a brooding asshole." Tori crossed her arms. "What's your problem anyway? You've been moody all afternoon, but you were practically kissing my ass this morning."

"You really don't know?" André scoffs.

Tori, rolls her eyes, "Well duh! Tell me."

"I'm pissed because of that bullshit you pulled off during lunch." André answers.

Tori laughed, crossing her arms and tilting her head back with a dismissive smile. "Oh, please. You're defending her? What? You like her or something? Public reminderDré. She's a dyke. You're barking at the wrong tree."

André's eyes flashed, and he set his guitar aside, pushing himself off the edge of the stage where he'd been sitting. "What the hell? Are you kidding me, Tori? You know what? You can be a lot of things, but I didn't know you'd turn into this much of a jackass."

Tori smirked, undeterred. "Oh, so that's what this is about? You're mad because I was mean to Jade? Well, newsflash, she's fine. I don't know why everyone's so soft about it."

"Soft? Tori; she ran out of there in tears. And maybe I do give a damn, alright? But I'm more pissed that you'd even talk about her like that. You know she's got it rough, and instead of just leaving her alone, you go out of your way to humiliate her every chance you get. And don't think for a second that I haven't noticed how you keep cheating on Ryder with every guy in this damn school."

Tori's face contorted in a blend of irritation and amusement, as she sauntered closer to André, her hips swaying exaggeratedly. She looked up at him with dark, hooded eyes and tilted her head, raising her hands to rest on his chest. Her smirk widened, becoming even more smug. She sauntered up to him, her fingers running along the hem of his shirt. "Jealous, are we? Is this what this is all about?" she purred, leaning in close, as her voice dropped to pure seduction. "Are you mad you haven't had me yet, hmm?" She traced her finger up his chest, sending chills up his spine, but not in the way she intended. "I mean all you have to do is ask. Don't be shy. We're besties after all right?" And, as if to push it even further, she let the tip of her tongue brush his nose.

André grabbed her wrists, peeling her off him gently but firmly. "Stop it. I'm not some guy you can twist around your finger. You can get everyone else in this damn school drooling over you, but I'm not playing along."

Tori cocked her head to the side, a smile twisting on her lips, the rejection barely seeming to register. "Maybe, that's your loss." she said, her voice airy, as if they were discussing the weather. She leaned back, looking him up and down with a smirk. "Besides, I like being a slut. I mean, it's who I am. The old me?" She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Crybaby Tori, who hid in her room for a week because her nudes got leaked back in ninth grade? That girl was pathetic. If that happened now to this Tori?" She gestured at herself from head to toe, preening. "This Tori knows how to have fun. I'd use those leaks to my full advantage alright. I'd let the whole school see how hot I am. And if that bothers you, maybe you just haven't gotten a taste of me yet. But don't worry. I'm one call away." She winked.

André blinked, dumbfounded. He struggled to understand the girl in front of him, the twisted logic of the person she'd become. "You… you actually believe that shit, don't you? That all you're worth is how much you can show off? Are you hearing yourself? This isn't confidence—it's ego. What happened to you, T? You used to be proud of what you could do—your voice. Your talent. Your heart. You didn't need all this…all this extra bullshit."

Tori smirked and tilted her head defiantly. "Maybe I got over it, André. People change. The girl you met in ninth grade died three years ago."

"You don't get to just say people change' to excuse being a total asshole, Tori. And I know it's more than that." He took a step closer, his tone steady and almost challenging. "I know this… this whole act came after your mom, but what I don't get is why you threw Jade out of your life. Like for god's sake, everyone at school used to call you two soulmates. What the hell happened? Why cut her off and still be friends with us? You won't even talk about her."

The silence in the room thickened, and for a moment, the swagger in Tori's stance wavered, her eyes flickering with something other than her usual contempt. "I don't owe you an explanation. And besides—why are you so damn interested?"

"Because you're holding onto something heavy. I know something happened between you and Jade, but whatever it is…it's eating you alive, and all we get is this act. This bullshit diva act." He stepped closer, his voice softening. "Why don't you just be real for once?"

She shook her head, scoffed, then grabbed her bag. "You know what, André? I don't owe you or anyone else an explanation. Think whatever the hell you want." She turned on her heel, her movements were a little too stiff and made her way toward the exit.

André called after her."Yeah, well, whatever's going on with you, it's not making you any I guess it's easier for you to hate everyone else than to actually deal with what's wrong huh?"

Tori stopped, her hand on the door handle, and for the briefest of moments, she turned back, a flicker of pain in her eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. She threw him a bitter, defiant smile.

"Goodbye, André." she said, her voice like ice, and she disappeared through the door, leaving him in the dim theatre, the echo of her footsteps still ringing in his ears.

Outside the school, Lola sat alone in the courtyard, the hum of students' chatter and laughter buzzing around her. She hunched over her sketchbook, shading a delicate art piece. She stared at the page, her usually steady hands shaking. Her heart ached, and her mind was flooded with a tidal wave of emotions that left her on the verge of snapping. She barely noticed the heat of the midday sun bearing down, or the hum of the fountain nearby.

She wasn't her usual animated self. She was holding herself together, but just barely, an invisible weight pressing down on her shoulders. Her face, usually set in a confident smirk, looked worn, tired, and dangerously close to breaking.

"Lola."

She hadn't noticed Beck approaching. He stood a few feet away, watching her with concern, his face a blend of worry and cautious patience. They'd been here before — Beck showing up just in time to catch her before she broke. It was a pattern by now, one she both hated and craved.

"Boo… are you okay?" His voice was soft, and gentle, coaxing her to look up at him.

Lola's fingers clenched around her pencil, her gaze never lifting from the sketch. She was drawing a picture of herself and Tori from years ago, smiling, arms wrapped around each other, their faces carefree and innocent. She could feel the lump in her throat grow, the sting of unshed tears burning her eyes. She didn't answer Beck's question — she didn't need to.

"Hey." he pressed on, sitting beside her, close enough to reach her but leaving her space. "I've been trying to contact you since this lunch."

For a moment, Lola didn't answer. Her fingers trembled as she wiped at her eyes, avoiding his gaze. "I'm fine." she mumbled, though even she could hear how empty it sounded.

He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Don't do that. Don't shut me out like that." he said, his voice low and insistent. "I know you're not fine. I saw what happened…what she did to Jade."

Lola let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, Ria's really perfected the art of being a first-class cunt, huh?" She paused, clenching her fists. "But you know what hurts? It's me who ends up feeling like shit every time I try to get through to her."

Beck slid closer, keeping his gaze steady on her. "I miss her too, Lola. We all do. And you're doing everything you can. But Tori? She's…she's not Tori anymore. Not the way she was."

"I'm doing everything for her—everything—and it's like it doesn't even matter. Like I'm just…" She bit her lip, letting the words trail off, swallowing the ache in her throat.

Beck gave her shoulder a reassuring nudge. "You're not just anything, Lola. You're the only one brave enough to call her out, to try and get her back on track. Even if it feels like hell."

Lola sighed, finally meeting his eyes, a broken smile pulling at her lips. "And I end up fighting her for it." Her lips quiver as she tries to hold in her emotions. "But I'm not just gonna let her hurt Jade like that." she muttered, her voice shaking. "And the worst part? No one else misses the old Tori too, but they all just sit there and watch her tear people down because no one wants to be her next target."

Beck watched her, a sadness in his gaze that mirrored her own. "I know it's rough, but you don't have to do this alone. You've got me, okay?"

Lola laughed softly, a bitter sound. "Oh yeah? Do I? Because every time things get hard, you always walk away."

"Lola, come on… don't be like that." His hand was on her shoulder, a familiar touch that sent both warmth and resentment surging through her. The two emotions had become so intertwined with him, that she could hardly tell where one began and the other ended.

Lola's jaw clenched, her voice low and bitter. "What's the point, Beck? We're here, pretending we're fine, and yet every few months,it's the same we're on again, we're off again. One of us hooks up with someone else, and then we end up back here, acting like that didn't just fucking happen."

He winced, her words hitting harder than he'd expected, but he kept his gaze steady on her. "Lola… I don't like how it's been either." he admitted quietly. "I hate it, actually. Seeing you with other guys, it just…it kills me." He ran a hand through his hair, his voice rough with frustration.

Lola let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Oh, you think it's just you? I can't even count how many times I've had to hear about whatever random girl you're seeing, smiling like I'm fine with it. But deep down, I'm furious. It…it hurts, we're messed up." She hugged her sketchpad to her chest as if it could somehow shield her from the raw ache inside. "Those girls don't even know anything about you. They don't know what makes you laugh, smile, cry, or what makes you happy like I do." Lola's voice cracked.

A heavy silence fell between them as Beck shifted, his gaze somewhere off in the distance, his voice barely a whisper. "Did you…I mean, when we were…on those breaks, did you ever…"

"Fuck them?" Her tone was laced with bitterness as she met his eyes, daring him to judge her. "Yeah, Beck, I did. I fucked a couple of guys. But it didn't mean anything." She clenched her jaw, hating the way her voice broke. "I thought it would make me feel something other than just an afterthought. Instead, it just made me feel like a fucking slut. And I hate it."

He didn't flinch, didn't look away, only moved closer, his hand hovering near hers."Lola—don't… don't do that to yourself. You're not a slut, okay? You're—" He paused, his gaze meeting hers, unwavering. "You're still the same person I fell in love with. Messed up, yeah, but we both are. And no one else has ever come close to meaning what you do to me."

Her heart twisted at his words, and for a moment, she felt that dangerous flicker of hope, a warmth that almost made her want to lean into him, to let herself believe. But she caught herself, her face hardening, she looked down at their hands, her expression softening just for a moment before she pulled her hand away. "Don't do that, Beck. Don't try to make this some romantic fix-all. Just because we're here, talking like this, doesn't mean we're okay." Her voice breaks, "And you know what? That's the problem, Beck. You're special to me too. And every time we try to get it right, we end up right back here, pretending like we can just ignore everything and it fucking sucks, okay!" She took a shaky breath. "I'm trying to be civil about this. To be…mature. But the truth is... Beck, I'm still so damn angry, and I don't even know if I can explain why.

Beck reached out and took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I get it, Lola. I really do. And I know I can't fix it. But maybe we don't need to fix it all at once. But can we at least, try?"

Lola met his gaze, eyes glassy, holding back tears. "Maybe?"Her voice was barely a whisper, and she gave his hand a small squeeze before pulling away. A tear escaped down her cheek, and she brushed it away quickly, forcing herself to stay in eye contact with "Then try. But don't expect me to be waiting around forever. I'm so sick of it Beck."

They sat in silence, both unwilling to move, unable to say the things that needed to be stillness was broken off by a call from Ryder."Hey! I'm taking Tori, home. Wanna come with?"

"Sure. Ry." Lola sighed.

"You go on ahead, I'll just get a bottle of water. I'll make it quick."

Lola nodded, as he walked over to Ryder. "Tori's waiting in the car if you want to go now." He said, his voice calm and laced with concern. Lola just nods, walking past him.

The parking lot of Hollywood Arts was nearly empty in the late afternoon light, but the tension humming in Ryder's converter could've filled the whole campus. Tori sat rigid in the front seat, her fingers twisting around her phone as if it might snap in half. She stared straight ahead, biting her lip, thoughts replaying her earlier argument with André in the Black Box Theatre, his words circling her mind, echoing with a weight that hadn't lifted since she stormed out.

"You're holding onto something heavy."

Tori clenched her jaw, shaking her head in a futile attempt to push his words aside. In the distance, she spotted, Lola, striding across the lot alone, her eyes fixed on the car with a hardened glare. Tori's breath hitched. The relief she'd initially felt seeing her sister—her other half—quickly melted into something cold and sharp as she remembered their blowout from lunch.

Tori shifted, her heart racing as Lola reached the car and swung open the back door with a curt, decisive word, Lola slid into the seat behind her, her gaze unwavering and could feel it boring into the back of her head like a twin ice picks, but she couldn't bring herself to look back.

A second of tense silence passed. Tori cleared her throat, forcing her voice to steady, though it came out barely above a murmur. "So... how was film club this today?"

No feel Lola's gaze, a mix of ice and fire. Tori's attempt at nonchalance faltered as she stole a glance into the rearview mirror. Lola's eyes were stormy, but beneath the anger, something softer lingered—a hint of hurt that sliced through Tori more than any furious look ever could.

She swallowed hard, that hollow pit in her chest opening wider.

The silence grew taut, thick and suffocating. Tori forced herself to focus on anything but Lola's glare—the dashboard lights, a smudge on the side window, a loose thread on the seat cushion—but nothing could distract from her sister's icy silence. Lola didn't even break eye contact, watching her twin with that fierce, unflinching intensity that felt like it was burrowing into Tori's mind, uncovering every shred of guilt she tried to bury.

Tori's hands fumbled, her breath shallow as she tried to ignore the aching twist in her gut. The tension between them felt alive, like a dark cloud in the air, pressing down on Tori, reminding her of calling her a 'Bitch' in their last argument.

As much as she tried to appear unbothered, she could feel her body betraying her—the nervous tapping of her fingers, the way her gaze darted away whenever Lola's eyes caught hers in the had faced down the entire school with a razor-sharp tongue and an unbreakable glare, but her sister's silence, her fury… unravelled her.

The sound of footsteps broke through the taut silence, and Tori exhaled shakily, silently thankful for the interruption as Ryder and Beck approached. They were laughing about something, a private joke that died the second they sensed the cold tension radiating from the car. Beck's eyes shifted between the twins, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he took in Lola's rigid posture and Tori's forced calm.

"Everything…good here?" Beck's voice was gentle, cautiously hopeful, but the words hung in the air like lead.

Without waiting for an answer, Ryder stepped forward, his arm brushing Tori's shoulder as he handed her a water bottle and nodded toward Beck with a grin. But the grin fell when Meredith sauntered up, her voice dripping with a coy suggestion as she settled to Beck, fingers brushing his arm.

"Beck, about that date—" Meredith began, but before she could finish, Lola's head snapped dark eyes locked onto Meredith with a death glare that froze the girl in place. Meredith's confidence evaporated, her gaze darting nervously between Lola and Beck before she took a shaky step back, mumbling an apology and fleeing without a backward glance.

Ryder stifled a laugh, and Becklet out a sigh, his hand running over his face. "Really, Lola?" he chuckled. But Lola wasn't looking at Beck. Her eyes had returned to Tori, simmering, and the queen's heart pounded in her chest.

Beck's voice, usually the mediator, fell flat against the tension that still throbbed between the twins. As Ryder moved to the driver's seat, Toristole one last glance at her sister through the rearview mirror, hoping for some sign of softening.

But there was none. The silence spoke more than words ever could.

Across the parking lot, Jade leaned against her car, watching the four of them in Ryder's car, looking as awkward as they could ever be.

"Hey, girl." André called out as he walked up to her, his expression soft, searching. "You holdin' up okay?"

Jade glanced at him and shrugged, trying to muster her usual nonchalance. "Better now, actually." she admitted, a ghost of a smile breaking through. "Lola's got this weird way of making me feel even when I'm a wreck."

Andréchuckled, though there was sympathy in his eyes. "Lola told me she found you after… all that at lunch. Guess it helped?"

Jade nodded, a small smile breaking through. "Yeah, she's a good sister… even if she is scary as hell, and even if she keeps you waiting."

André laughed, nodding in agreement. "Believe me, no one here messes with Lola."

Jade's smile faded as she watched the spot where Ryder's car had disappeared. André picked up on her change in mood and looked away thoughtfully. "So… I had it out with Toriearlier, in the Black to push her to talk about all this." he said, casting her a careful look. "She stormed out like I set her hair on fire. But…Jade, I don't get it. She still talks to the rest of us. Why's it just you, she can't be around?"

Jade swallowed, her heart twisting at the familiar pang of hurt. She forced her gaze to the ground. "I don't really think there's an answer that'll make any sense, André."

André saw her wince, his face softening immediately. "Sorry, J. I shouldn't have asked."

"It's fine." Jade's voice was barely above a whisper, and she cleared her throat. "It's been like this for two years; I'm kind of numb to it by now."

André gave her shoulder a light squeeze before glancing down at his hands. After a moment, his expression brightened. "So, about that dance offer I gave you this morning." he said, playfully, with a hint of drama in his voice.

Jade's brows shot up, and she grinned, crossing her arms. "Wait. Were you actually serious?" she chuckles.

"Oh, come on." André teased. "You thought I was just messin' around?"

Jade smirked. "Honestly, yeah. I figured you were asking to make me feel good, not to actually—you know, ask me out for real."

André shook his head, a wide smile breaking out on his face. "Nah, I thought you might like to actually enjoy the Senior Ball since we only get it once, you know? But if it's really so weird for you, I'll drop it."

Jade laughed, rolling her eyes. "Well, I guess it'd be alright. You are kinda one of my best friends so…" she pauses, crossing her arms "Maybe I'll consider it if you ask me properly, like a promposal or something." Jade rolled her eyes laughing.

André broke into a grin, an idea sparking in his took a dramatic step back, and to her horror, he sank down onto one knee, right there in the middle of the parking lot face burned as students started to notice, nudging each other and whispering excitedly.

"André, get way too cheesy!" she hissed, feeling a laugh bubbling up despite herself. She could barely keep a straight face as she looked down at him.

"Jade."André said, holding his hands up like he was presenting her with an imaginary ring, his voice exaggeratedly deep and theatrical."Will you be my date to the Senior Ball?"

"Oh my god, André, stop." she groaned, her laughter breaking through as she covered her face, feeling her cheeks go red.

A few people started clapping and cheering as Jade squirmed under the sudden attention. But André held his pose, grinning up at her. Her giggles finally got the better of her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, yes!" she called out, her voice breaking with laughter. "Just get up before you embarrass me anymore!"

André sprang to his feet, throwing his arms up as if he'd won a championship. "She said yes!" he shouted, earning them a wave of applause and cheers.

Jade shook her head, feeling her face flush even more, but she couldn't stop grinning. She punched him lightly on the arm. "You know, I might actually regret saying yes now."

"Nah, you'll have a blast. Trust me." André's face softened as he watched her smile. "Besides, you could use a good time, J."

They both cracked up, André throwing an arm around her shoulders as they shared a laugh, Jade feeling lighter than she had in days. For a brief moment, all the bitterness, all the pain, faded away, and she was left with a friend—a real friend—who reminded her that not everyone had walked out on her.