"CONFIDENTIAL"

A/N: Hi everyone! Glad to be back for new exciting updates. Our babies are making progress. BTW on chap 20 a lot of secrets will be revealed!! ❤️ ❤️ Don't forget to vote and to comment! (UNEDITED)

EVREN's POV

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"JUST FOLLOW ME." Brendan said, retrieving his hand from my arm as if he had just touched a burning pan.

I am in awe, recollecting my thoughts, my eyes focused on his rather- strange, contradictory moves, although I make an effort to understand where he's coming from.

It wasn't my attention, either way, sure if someone had called me out the same way I did towards Brendan, I'd probably instinctively react just as defensive. He's right, we definitely should keep our mistakes to ourselves.

I let out an unexpected sigh, remembering the tint that had formed circles on the paper I am not holding anymore. Sentenced for community service because of negligent behavior- what would his previous friends have thought of him? Beyond that, even if he is innocent on that matter, how much guilt had he experienced, how much hate had he felt burning inside him, all this time?

...I really don't know him at all, or his life's history, but at least I, being one defiant, sinner and flawed individual myself, should've shown a bit of understatement. And honestly, I understood him. Maybe I just lack empathy when I talk, yet then again, I would always end up fighting with him.

You know, there's signs- sometimes I hear what people say about his problematic behavior or the fact that he likes to collect enemies, or even the way he contracts his own jaw muscles, right after he flips out over simple, normal people's daily issues- and there's moments when he just looks  exhausted, overloaded with thoughts he can't bare to deal with, but won't open his mouth no matter what, no matter how disturbed it makes
him feel.

Being a ticking time bomb, I've noticed it in his usual cool, stony composure and hostile asset right away- how it would take him three seconds to explode if someone pissed him off for some reason. How it disgusts him making him sick to his stomach when confronted with obstacles and no's.

However, I think his nature and whole body of function is much more complicated than that. Rhys is not simply insensitive, unable to feel or bitter, I can tell he cares too, whatever's the object of his belated, leftover compassion, I know he hasn't giving up on his purpose. He's craving for meaning, sense of will, hope. And now that I think about it, we both share some traits.

"Follow you where?"

Wrinkles formed in my forehead as I watched his body distance from mine, eyes like those of a cat observing the path now Brendan follows while he walks in the opposite direction.

He doesn't answer, so I close my mouth too. My arms hug each other around my torso and my feet moves rapidly, making my legs slightly rub on the corner of the sofa.

We're not on the dark corridor linked to his living room, no interruptors nearby to switch the lights on.

I wait nervously, rubbing my index finger on my upper lip once the tall guy in front of me opens a door. I can feel the atmosphere around us losing its previous tensioning state, although it still feels somehow heavy.

A sound cracks to which I presume must be the door opening. Brendan enters the room, slowing contouring some objects on the floor he doesn't want to step on, while carefully examining the closest hall with his hand.

I am not able to see clearly until the light penetrates the room from its ceiling. First thing I notice though is Rhys's adam apple pop anxiously, the look of uncertainty on his blue orbs once he inclines his head to what's a meter away from him, hands folded on his jean's pockets.

I make my own trail of vision, familiarizing with the ball sitting on the floor, next to a pile full of papers and documents.

Next I see a two chairs and a desk, ornamented with a black laptop and a bunch of photo frames. My body has now fully entered the small room, and my legs immediately tremble at the sight of what's in front of me. My heart starts racing, so I retrieve my hand to cover my mouth which is open, in astonishment.

Have lost part of my body's strength, I make myself fall on to one of the seats close to the desk. At the same moment, my gaze trails over a few metal trophies and decorative items which are on some shelf, on the upper left side of the wall.

My throat closes, I feel my lips becoming drier.
He still doesn't utter a word.

"This..." I surprisingly am able to talk, though making a hard effort on my behalf. "I-.. Brendan?"

I look over to him, only to find him standing like a rock too, glued to the floor. His eyes say a lot too, about how he's internally processing the situation as I am, so I refocus my sight on the board which keeps haunting me.

Colber. He's right there. A medium colored picture reveals his outstanding features, his big yet skinny nose, round cheeks, pouty lips, immense eyes, the mole just beneath the right side of his lip. Remembering his face is painful, so much I try to avoid glancing at the photo of him- yet that's not just it:

his happy expression had been washed out from his face only to be replaced by a frightening empty and lifeless look. A few bruises covered the side of his temples, and the red vibrant liquor which had fallen from his screwed up nose trailed over his chin and neck.

I just can't take it, looking at Colber's dead face as if it's just a photo laying on some police report, like he doesn't matter any more, like he has turned into another corpse permanently void of any life, memories or meaning.

Suddenly, I feel a hot sensation rising up inside me, flames entering my system as I close my eyes with so much strength due to the feeling of rage consuming me. I am intrigued with myself once I notice my body reactions dealt differently with the raging sensation, since I was only able to shed a tear.

As it falls down my cheek, I readjust the furious feeling bopping in my veins, controlling myself, though I am not able to openly discharge such frustration.

All I am able to do is to stay quite.  But after a few seconds the hatred inside me starts to unfold, making me talk just as venomously.

"How can you-?...How can you look at him when he's like that?" I spat, though my voice was still shaky and not loud. "Take the photo out- just, fuck please, take it out!" I beg almost, looking at the desk as a new tear falls down to the surface.

So he does. Rhys steps closer to where I am, reaching his arm to grab the photo, while he looks at it with violent eyes. "They did this to him, Maddox. I'm not ignoring it anymore. Look!" He screams, putting the photo down and he gestures to the board. "Look!"

I gulp hard, raising my head up so I able to identify several different pictures attached to the board, between them a couple of marked papers. Travis. Sean. Page. Every single member of the Circle was there, matched with a photo and a corresponding color. He was showing me the information he had collected over the days since Colber died? The full list of the suspects? Even details about the Circle's whereabouts?

"If what it takes for me to regain my sense of orientation is to look at this photo every day, so be it." He announced over my head, certainty and disdain washed over his face.

His portrait showed me what I had already suspected at this point- Rhys wanted revenge, but to what lengths? I know I'd go fucking crazy if I had to see a photo of my dead best friend every single day- precisely why I had previously stored all the selfies I had taken with Colber on another device, so I wouldn't put myself through more suffering. But, Rhys? How can any of this make him cope better?

I get out of the chair, so I can further examine the board. I touch a tiny fragment of paper which is next to the laptop, containing the numbers 22 : 46 . My eyebrows are contracted, resembling my confusion. God, what am I supposed to this with all of this?

"Also," He voiced, now with a calm tone, and finally our bodies were side by side, heads on the same level, "I'm giving you a reason to trust me. I haven't got nothing to hide." He is eyeing me, I'm almost certain, and I do feel pressured to reply, but my eyes fall on the paper.

Wether he keeps on stating the truth, proving his innocent and willingness to cooperate, I can not let myself fully trust on him, even if I wanted to. From the day Colber died, I knew I was practically alone, all by myself in this twisted little town. I also went against my principles by joining forces with Rhys, knowing I had decided to act by my own means. I was so curious yet so mad to have learn Colber hadn't mentioned me about Rhys that I deliberately took an interest on his persona.

I don't think it will ever make sense why he lied to the both of us, yet I had to follow my gut which at the time told me to bet on him and on his plans. The center of the problem is him; Rhys and his mysterious vibes. I never know what to believe, how to distinguish the lie from the truth.

If I look him in the eyes I'm able to see part of myself in him, someone who's blinded by sorrow and wants to get rid off it. But if I inverse things, I get worried. Even I am not being fully truthful so how can he be too...?

"What's this number about?" I ask, dodging his previous words.

He sighed, and from the corner of my eye I noticed his hand flew to his hair. "It's actually what proves my innocence." He answers, so I gaze at him, puzzled.

"Here." His finger touches on another paper, now a newspaper. "That's leaked information about the events which came out from the press. They don't know much and probably won't be able to rely on new sources since all of us are now under investigation, but the day after I gave my testimony it was all over the news for some reason. Someone in the police leaked it."

"I'm not really proud of it, but I was drunk that night... You already know we had a Circle meeting and- uh, I was late. Before I arrived Colber texted me at 22:46 pm, saying he needed me there. I replied back. Fortunately I had my GPS on so they did the math. He died before I was even there." He talked, moving his hands but never taking his eyes out of mine.

Then, he reaches for another paper - 23 : 01 and lends it to me. The time of his death...
My mouth is still dry, a new irritating pain now pierces through my head, I must be tired.

Still, he keeps on adding, "It took me a while to organize this room the way I saw fit, but I was able to bring all of the important things and documents that might help me in the process." He folds his arms on his chest, leaning over the desk with a thoughtful expression.

"Documents?" I question.

He shakes his head, telling me he's talking about the box behind me, which contains loads of papers. Oh, those papers at the entrance, I note. My mind goes off for a solid minute, is he honestly about to show me what I think he is? What's the ketch, then?

"Evren." He calls me. My eyes meet his serious ones for some seconds that seem like forever, but then he cuts the tension, deeply inhaling as if he was about to address a bizarre matter,

"I became part of the Circle two months after I entered school here. They presented... a few restrictions when it came to new members, as well as a code of rules we all had to follow. I don't know if you already know this but, once one of us gets hurt-I mean, dead, the code is automatically broken, and by this, it means we don't have to protect each other's back anymore." He tells me, although almost whispering,

"Thing is, if we start backstabbing each other's and revealing shit long buried, we might just screw everything ever more. I'm in a position where I have to play both sides if I want to find who did this. For that, I need your help. I know where to start, where to look for. The only thing I don't know is about you."

He watches me as his orbs pour into mine, almost like he's reading my soul.

"We've been through this already" I remark, getting impatient.

"We have. But I need some guarantees." Rhys calmly steps closer to me, making it impossible for me to dodge those bullet eyes.

"In that box you'll find confidential arquives about the Circle, those I collected over the months. There you'll find shit that can destroy me, as well as other shit that can wreck the rest of us... with that being said, I can obviously get rid of it if I intent to, once you streak me as a threat... If you think about it, I'm not asking for a lot. Let's be done with the whole blind trust act.

"You tell me once and for all how much Colber told you about the Circle. In exchange, I share with you all the details about the party. We'll then go from there." I smirk instantly, looking at the ceiling while my tongue dances inside my mouth. Fuck, guess I don't have an option do I?

"I do have a condition though." I press the palm of my hands against my waist, cautiously leaning over him. I sense up close his body going stiff so I stop on my tracks, 'cause I do want his full attention now.

"If, and when, we really do make some progress, I get to read the confidential files." I point at the box behind me. "Not just any file. Your file."

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