Briar has been floating between groups. She does not want to appear too committed to anyone. She's laughed at Kai's jokes though she doesn't find him funny and listened to Ez rant about a book which she had no interest in. She tried to converse with Vieira who shied away, and Felix, who boasted. No one is quite catching her eye yet. Tom or Jetta might if they had dressed nicer for the occasion. Evelyn seems a bit vapid, even for Briar, and Roman seems unable to stop quoting philosophers. Luis and Ellie seem tolerable, but they are already wrapped up in a conversation and Briar does not want to feel like an outsider.

Then, a phone rings upstairs.

It cuts through the party, filling it with silence.

Kai runs up the stairs, racing after it, and Briar, of course, follows.

"I'll get it," Poppy's voice says, and she's soon trailing after.

The others look around at each other. They are all too drunk or too nervous to follow after. Besides, three people have already left, a quarter of the party. Who else is needed?

Upstairs, Kai trips on his way to answer the phone. He hits the carpet, and rolls onto his back, rubbing his jaw. The room smells of pickles.

On the floor below, the guests hear a thump. They flinch.

Briar makes it upstairs and notices what Kai has tripped on. She opens her mouth and stumbles backwards.

Poppy catches her. "Don't scream. Answer the phone."

Kai looks behind him, to see a torso, lying on the ground. A body.

"Answer the phone," Poppy prompts again.

Briar makes it to the phone. It's an old-fashioned brown rotary phone. She picks up the receiver and holds it to her ear, as her hands shake.

"Hello?" her voice croaks.

She is met with a dial tone.

Poppy crosses the room, gliding over the body, and takes the phone. She listens but hangs it up. Looking down at the rotary phone, she notices a sheet of paper, sticking out from beneath it. Her hand slides beneath it to take the paper, as Kai pulls himself up.

"You alright up there?" Felix's voice shouts up the stairwell.

"Yes!" Poppy calls down before the others can answer. "It seems Kai's not as nimble on his feet as you'd think."

"Who is that?" Briar's voice is a sharp whisper. "What is happening?"

"It's an old man," Poppy answers.

"We need to tell the others," Briar hisses.

Kai sees the sheet of paper in Poppy's hand and snatches it.

Poppy lets him, though she hasn't even had an opportunity to read it. "We tell the others, they are going to freak out. It's a test by The Divide. We need to keep it quiet."

Kai nods his head. Though he's never encountered a dead body, he knows how to rally a team. Based on the note, it doesn't seem like alerting the others will help. "We say nothing. Got it?"

Briar has been privy to a secret before. She's never let it stop her. "Alright."

The three of them return downstairs. Kai puts a smile on his face, though he can feel his teeth rattling behind his lips. Once he arrives downstairs, he pulls out the letter.

"It seems they've left us a note," Kai says. He holds it up in the air for everyone to see. "Who wants to do the honours?"

"Me!" Roman nearly squeals.

Kai hands over the paper and hides his hands in his pockets to avoid their shaking nature.

Poppy eyes up Briar, who only offers a nod. It seems Poppy has bought her silence, for now.

Clearing their throat, Roman begins to project.

"A life of strife, but feeling bold?/

Twelve's a secret that ought not be told/

And here's divide, well look, behold!/

How does it feel to be controlled?/

You may have stars; you may have gold/

We're here to bet; we know you'll fold."

The others gathered in a circle feel themselves deflating.

"Well, that's not very kind," Evelyn points out. She stands on the tips of her toes to try to get a look at the letter, but she is much smaller than everyone else.

"Iambic tetrameter," Ez says from across the room.

Heads turn to stare at him, and he merely shrugs.

"What?" Felix asks, crossing his arm over his chest.

"May I see that?" Tom adds, holding his hand out to accept the letter from Roman. When Roman obliges, he begins to count the syllables.

"Iambic pentameter is the meter in which Shakespeare wrote all of his poems," Ez says. "Unstressed syllable, followed by a stressed syllable, in this case, four times per line."

Tom counts out the syllables in the first line, and then the rest. "Not in the second line. Twelve's a secret that ought not be told."

"Didn't say it was well executed," Ez says. "I doubt it's a coincidence. Everything a writer does is deliberate."

"So, what?" Felix asks. "They're threatening us, but they are doing it in a fancy way?"

Ellie doesn't like what is happening. With the others distracted, she heads upstairs. She peeks inside the first room and sees the body. Ellie turns back and puts a hand up to her nose. It doesn't smell of rot; it reeks of pickles. She hates pickles.

With that, she creeps downstairs. It seems they are still arguing over the importance of the letter.

"How do we even know that we weren't all invited here to be killed?" Tom asks. "Isn't that a thing rich kids do? Kill people for fun?"

"This isn't a shitty play," Felix snaps.

"Rich people may be ridiculous, but they refuse to get their hands dirty," Luis points out, shaking his head. Everyone needs to calm down. Luis can't think straight with all the racket. The wine isn't helping either.

Briar finds herself panicking. Rich people are obviously not above getting their hands dirty if there is a body upstairs. It was an old man. What could he have done? He didn't look murdered. That is, he looked normal. Almost as if he was sleeping.

"Tom's mostly right," Jetta points out. "They've been spying on us. What else do they know about us?"

"Why?" Poppy raises an eyebrow, a smirk on her face. "You've got secrets to hide?"

"This is far too scary for my liking," Evelyn says. She turns to Tom and puts her head on his shoulder.

The boy tenses, but doesn't move. He looks at Vieira, hoping she isn't enraged.

Vieira can feel herself being swallowed. Not just by the events, but by the number of people gathered in one place. She doesn't know what to think or say, and she certainly couldn't speak if she did, what with all these strangers around. Her voice is being choked in her throat.

"Let's everyone relax," Kai says. "Now, obviously, they aren't going to kill us, because they just could have poisoned us earlier."

Voices around him erupt like a gasoline fire. Everyone is shouting, trying to make their voice heard amongst the chorus of fear. Evelyn holds her hands over her ears, trying to dull the noise. Vieira, trained in looking perfect, takes in shallow breaths. The others continue to argue.

Poppy climbs atop a chaise in the drawing-room and puts a hand to her lips. The others slowly begin looking at her.

"If we keep up the hullaballoo, one of the neighbours is going to come by and then we're actually going to be in deep waters," Poppy says. "We should retire for the evening, and regroup when called upon."

Felix scoffs, "why should we listen?"

"J'appelle un chat un chat," Poppy says.

Briar and Luis furrow their brows. They recognize the expression from days spent sojourning in France. It's not something you pick up in a first-year course. Then again, they all have knowledge beyond their years.

"I can speak a foreign language too," Felix says. "백치!"

"It means I'm calling it like it is," Poppy points out. "No harm, no foul."

She collects her coat from the closet and heads to the door. For a second, she looks back at everyone, before heading off.

Kai dashes into the other room, grabs his coat and follows after her.

The rest of them grab their things and slowly make their way out the door. They head off in pairs or alone, into the night.

~~~

Tom walks Vieira home. Tuesday's are dangerous, apparently. He walks in step with her, despite his long lanky legs. He doesn't want her to struggle behind him. He looks down at her, and remarks that even in the darkness, she is completely beautiful.

"What did you think?" Tom asks.

Vieira shrugs. It was interesting enough. Not unlikely any other dinner party she has attended, except for the ominous note delivered at the end. "I don't know."

"Are you going to keep going back?" Tom asks.

Vieira shrugs. She looks him up and down. "Are you?"

Tom copies her gesture. He has heard it makes people more comfortable, to be mirrored. He's had plenty of practice as well. "I don't know."

~~~

"Thank you for walking me home," Evelyn says, looking at Roman. "Will you be safe? Us girls will have to stick together."

"Not a girl," Roman says, sighing. It's been a long night, and they just want to get this over with.

Evelyn's eyes flicker. "You're a boy?"

"I'm not partaking in this debate at three o'clock in the morning," Roman says. "I bid you goodnight."

Evelyn pouts her bottom lip. It was just a question, she thinks. Who can fault her for her curiosity? They are at an academic institution after all.

Roman stalks back to their dorm, one without roommates like most of the cheap dorms here. They come from money, but obviously not as much as nearly all the initiates of The Divide. They exist in between. Not entirely like their gender, but not entirely different either.

~~~

It would probably be better for Felix to walk alone than with Ez. The boy petrifies him. They have not spoken a word yet, but it seems that they are headed in the same direction, and even when Felix speeds up, Ez does as well.

"It's just a game," Ez points out, more to himself than anyone else. He doesn't feel afraid of the darkness nor of the night.

"It's stupid," Felix points out.

Ez doesn't disagree. One of the lines of the poem was off. Twelve's a secret that ought not be told. It stresses strong, weak, strong, weak, weak, strong, weak, weak, strong. It's got some rhythm, but not enough. It's just off.

Felix is glad for the silence as they walk.

~~~

With The Divide behind her, Jetta finds herself chatting with Luis.

"So, you're in a band?" Luis raises an eye. "A punk band no less. I love that rebellion. I should come to a show sometime."

Jetta had to leave her band behind when she came here. Violin does not satiate that fire that warms her despite the cool night. "Maybe once I pick it up again. I did not think that was up your alley."

Anything and everything that Mama disproves is up his alley. "Please. I want my art to be as alive as punk music. Renaissance, neoclassical, romantic. They are all so stiff. So immovable. I'm going to show those rich people that there is more than the ways of old."

Though she doubts him, Jetta cannot help but smile.

~~~

Ellie thinks the solution is to be bold. "I saw the body."

"What?" Briar stops in her tracks, her heart racing. "What are you talking about?"

"I snuck upstairs and saw the body," Ellie answers.

Briar almost laughs. She thought she was in this alone. Poppy unsettles her, and she dislikes Kai. Something is wrong, and unlike many other things, this secret is stuck inside her.

"Do you think they were murdered?" Briar asks.

Ellie doesn't know. It sends her shivers down her side. "Possibly. I didn't see any blood or wounds. The body could've been moved there.

"Well," Briar says, but she has nothing to add. If it's a test, like Poppy suspects, then The Divide has won. They've gotten her silence. If it's a prank, then she has more in store than she bargained.

~~~

Kai manages to catch up to Poppy. "We should grab a drink sometime."

"Tennis and boating," she answers. She looks at him behind dark eyes. "Those are the sports I do."

Kai eyes her up and down. He smirks, catching up to her. "Do you go near here?"

"My family has a cottage on the lake," Poppy answers. "Maybe those who make it into The Divide will be able to come."

Finally, Kai has some incentive to join their little club.

"I think we made the right call," he says. "That is, keeping the body secret."

Poppy nods. "Excellent." 

~~~~~

It's happening. Like, it'll still be an introduction for a little bit longer, but the plot thickens.