(The memory returns. Michael—Dakota in the present—re-experiences his past self's pain and rage. The night air was cold, wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. His fingers twitched with pent-up frustration as he stood outside Lisa's house, his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.)
Michael (thinking):
"That bitch. That lying, manipulative bitch. I need proof. I need evidence. If I don't, Ethan and the others will never believe me."
(His mind raced as he scanned the house. It was late, the lights were off, but he knew better than to assume no one was awake. Lisa's parents… those people were monsters. He had to be careful.)
(With one deep breath, he moved. Silently, swiftly, sticking to the shadows. He reached the side of the house, spotting the open window of the downstairs bathroom. He hoisted himself up, slipping inside with practiced ease. The cold tile sent a chill up his spine as he crouched, listening.)
(Silence.)
Michael (thinking):
"Alright… step one complete. Now to find that makeup."
(Michael moved cautiously through the house, his footsteps near-silent against the wooden floor. The air inside felt heavy, suffocating, as though the walls themselves held secrets too dark to reveal.)
(He had been here before, back when he and Lisa were still 'friends.' But now, knowing what he did, the house felt alien. Every shadow seemed to stretch toward him. Every creak of the wood beneath his feet made his pulse quicken.)
(Lisa's room was upstairs. The most obvious place to check first.)
(But just as he reached the staircase, a sound froze him in place.)
Click.
(The unmistakable noise of a door unlocking. Michael's heart stopped for a split second.)
Michael (thinking):
"Shit!"
(He darted behind the couch, pressing himself flat against the floor. He forced himself to breathe slowly, steadily, as footsteps entered the house.)
Lisa's Father (low voice):
"Did you lock the back door?"
Lisa's Mother:
"Of course I did. What do you take me for?"
(Michael peeked ever so slightly from behind the couch. There they were. Lisa's parents. Their presence sent an icy chill down his spine. Their mere voices made his skin crawl. They were the kind of people who could smile sweetly while stabbing a knife into your back.)
(He didn't move. Didn't breathe. He could hear his own pulse hammering in his ears. After a few seconds, Lisa's father sighed.)
Lisa's Father:
"Let's go to bed. We'll deal with things in the morning."
(The footsteps receded, and a door shut upstairs.)
(Michael exhaled, slow and silent. He had to move. Now.)
(He climbed the stairs carefully, his body tense with every movement. Lisa's room was down the hall. He slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him.)
(It was exactly as he remembered. Neat. Too neat. Lisa was a control freak. Everything in its place. Everything calculated.)
(Michael wasted no time. He tore through drawers, checked under her bed, flipped through her desk. Nothing. No makeup. No foundation to create fake bruises.)
Michael (thinking):
"Where the hell is it?"
(He moved faster, more desperate. The minutes ticked by. He searched her closet, her nightstand, even behind picture frames. Still nothing.)
(His frustration built, but he pushed it down. One last place. One last chance. The small storage room down the hall. The only place he hadn't checked.)
(Michael stepped out of Lisa's room, heart hammering as he crept down the hallway. The storage room door was slightly ajar. He slipped inside, his hands shaking as he turned on the dim light.)
(There. In a box. Hidden beneath old blankets. The makeup. The exact brand used to create fake bruises.)
(He grabbed it, stuffing it into his jacket.)
Michael (thinking):
"Got it. Now, I just need to get out—"
Click.
(The door downstairs swung open. Michael froze. His blood ran cold as he heard the voices.)
Lisa's Mother:
"Oh, Michael…"
(Michael turned, his eyes locking onto them. Lisa's parents stood in the doorway, their faces unreadable. But he saw it in their eyes. The amusement. The condescension. The quiet threat lurking beneath their words.)
Lisa's Father (smirking):
"What are you doing here, Michael?"
Michael (growling):
"Your bitch daughter tried to manipulate Ethan and my friends against me."
Lisa's Mother:
"Oh? Did she succeed?"
(Michael's teeth clenched. They were enjoying this. Mocking him. Toying with him.)
Michael:
"The manipulation? Yeah, she did. But trust me, I'll get my friends back on my side. They won't believe her over me forever."
(Lisa's father chuckled, shaking his head.)
Lisa's Father:
"Really? Do you really believe it'll be that easy?"
(Michael stiffened. Something in their tone… it made his skin crawl.)
Lisa's Mother:
"We've been teaching Lisa manipulation since she was a child, Michael. Ever since she became friends with you, she was always testing her skills. On you. On Ethan. On all of your friends."
Michael (eyes widening):
"What…?"
Lisa's Father (mock sympathy):
"Oh, you didn't know? She always saw you as her greatest challenge. But in the end… she realized something. She could never manipulate you."
Lisa's Mother:
"Your paranoia. Your gut instinct. You were always too difficult to control. So she stopped trying. Instead, she focused on the ones who could be manipulated."
(Michael's fists clenched. His vision blurred with fury. All the years of friendship. Fake? Every moment? Every laugh? Every conversation?)
Michael (shouting, voice raw):
"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"
(His rage exploded. His nails dug into his own skin, scratching deep. His breath came in ragged gasps.)
Lisa's Father:
"Michael, you better not take that makeup to your friends."
(A cold, cruel warning.)
Michael (voice shaking with fury):
"Or what?"
(Silence.)
Michael (grinning wildly):
"You won't do a damn thing, you sons of bitches."
(For the first time, they looked surprised. Uncertain. They weren't used to someone standing up to them. Michael stepped forward, his grin widening.)
Michael:
"What? Surprised? Not used to it? Well, guess what… I'm Michael. The undefeated genius. The genius of the fucking decade. You cannot beat me. Nobody can. Even if I'm alone, I will beat all of you."
Lisa's Father (serious):
"Michael… do not start a war you can't win."
Michael (smirking):
"Then I'll make it winnable."
(Without another word, he turned and bolted. He sprinted through the hallway, down the stairs. He heard them shouting behind him, but he didn't stop. He didn't care. He threw himself through the front door, dashing into the night.)
Lisa's Mother (yelling after him):
"Michael, come back!"
(But he didn't. He ran. He ran with pure adrenaline, the makeup clutched in his hands. His heartbeat roared in his ears, but one thought kept repeating in his mind.)
Michael (thinking):
"This is just the beginning."
(The memory faded. Dakota's expression remained unreadable as his group stared at him in stunned silence.)
Lucas:
"Dakota… that was insane."
Liam:
"So? What did you do next?"
(Dakota's lips curled into a smirk.)
Dakota:
"I tried to get Ethan and my friends back. Tried to mess with Lisa. Tried to break them free from her control. But I couldn't."
(His eyes darkened.)
Dakota:
"Which got me and Ethan into a fight. A deadly fight. Trust me… this is just the start of the game between me and Lisa."