Chapter 4. Party Pooper Pandemonium
       
       
       The final bell of the day rang like a death knell for anyone who still had homework to pretend to do, but for the students of Hell High, it was the sweet sound of freedom –or at least, the illusion of it until tomorrow. Whispers about Verosika’s party had spread faster than a rumour about a pop quiz, and by the time everyone spilled out into the parking lot, it was all anyone could talk about. Well, almost everyone.
       Blitzø strutted out of the building like he owned it, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a mischievous grin plastered on his face. Moxxie, Millie, and Loona trailed behind him, each in their own little world. Moxxie was fiddling with a crumpled schedule, Millie was humming a tune that sounded suspiciously like a wrestling chant, and Loona was glued to her phone, thumbs flying across the screen.
       —Alright, gang! —Blitzø spun around dramatically, nearly knocking into a passing sinner who looked like he’d just crawled out of a bad dream—. Tonight’s the night we show Verosika what a real party looks like. We’re crashing that snoozefest and turning it into I.M.P legend!
       Moxxie adjusted his glasses, looking up with that signature worried frown.
       —Blitzø, didn’t we just talk about this? Crashing a party? That’s like asking for more detention. Or worse, social exile. We could end up eating lunch in the janitor’s closet!
       —Pfft, social exile? —Blitzø waved him off—. We’re already the kings of the misfits! Besides, Moxx, where’s your sense of adventure? Remember last year’s surprise at the talent show? Epic!
       —You mean the one where you rigged the stage lights to flash like a disco ball and blinded half the audience? —Moxxie deadpanned—. Yeah, epic. I still have spots in my vision.
       Millie bounced on her toes, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
       —Oh, come on, Moxxie! It’ll be fun! We can bring snacks or somethin’. Maybe some of those spicy chips that make your tongue tingle!
       —Loona? —Blitzø turned to her, hoping for backup—. You’re in, right? You were all hyped about making new friends or whatever.
       Loona didn’t even look up from her phone.
       —Yeah, sure. Whatever. As long as there’s no lame games like pin the tail on the donkey or something babyish.
       Blitzø pumped his fist.
       —See? Team’s on board! Operation Party Domination is a go!
       Across the parking lot, Verosika was holding court by her shiny pink convertible, surrounded by her cheer squad and a few hangers-on. Vortex was there too, leaning against the car like a living statue, tossing a football up and catching it without effort. Verosika flipped her hair, laughing at something one of her friends said, but her eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Blitzø’s group.
       —Ugh, look at them plotting over there. —She sneered—. Like a bunch of lost puppies. Make sure the door’s locked tight tonight. I don’t want any uninvited pests ruining the vibe.
       One of her cheer friends giggled.
       —Totally. Last time Blitzø showed up somewhere, he turned the punch bowl into a fizz volcano. My outfit was ruined!
       Vortex chuckled, his deep voice rumbling.
       —Hey, that was kinda funny. Bubbles everywhere.
       Verosika shot him a glare.
       —Not helping, Tex.
       Meanwhile, not far from the chaos, Octavia was slouched against a tree, earbuds in, blasting some moody playlist that drowned out the world. Stolas appeared out of nowhere –as he often did– with that overly dramatic flair, waving a hand in front of her face.
       —Via, darling! There you are. I’ve been searching high and low!
       Octavia pulled out one earbud, rolling her eyes.
       —What now, Stolas? I’m trying to vibe here.
       —Vibe? Oh, how modern! —Stolas clasped his hands together—. But listen, there’s talk of a gathering this evening. Hosted by that charming Verosika girl. As student body president, I thought we could make an appearance. Network a bit! You know, for the family name.
       Octavia groaned.
       —Pass. Parties are just excuses for people to pretend they’re having fun while judging everyone else. I’d rather stay home and... I don’t know, stare at the ceiling.
       —Nonsense! —Stolas pulled her into a side hug, ignoring her squirms—. It’ll be good for you. Social skills are important, even for us Goetia. Besides, I hear there might be snacks!
       Octavia sighed but didn’t pull away completely. Deep down, she knew arguing with Stolas was like trying to out-stubborn a rock.
       —Fine. But if it gets weird, I’m out.
       —That’s the spirit! —Stolas beamed—.
       On the other side of the lot, Stella was in her luxury car, Striker lounging in the passenger seat with his boots up on the dashboard –much to her annoyance.
       —Get your filthy feet down. —Stella snapped, swatting at him—.
       Striker smirked, slowly lowering them.
       —Touchy today, huh? What’s eatin’ ya? The party?
       —That ridiculous gathering? —Stella scoffed—. As if I’d waste my time. But I heard Stolas might show. If he does, I want eyes on him. Can’t have him embarrassing the family more than he already does.
       Striker tipped his hat.
       —Consider it done. For a price, of course.
       Stella rolled her eyes.
       —Always with the price. Fine, whatever. Just don’t mess it up like last time.
       —Hey, that wasn’t my fault. The kid had backup. —Striker defended—.
       As the sun dipped lower, turning Hell’s sky a fiery orange, the I.M.P crew piled into Blitzø’s beat-up van –affectionately nicknamed “The Wrecker” after one too many incidents. Blitzø revved the engine, which coughed like it had a bad cold.
       —Alright, party crashers! First stop supplies! We need stuff to make an entrance. Balloons? No, too basic. Fireworks? Nah, too explode-y for school rules... Wait, we’re not at school! Fireworks it is!
       Moxxie buckled his seatbelt tightly.
       —Blitzø, fireworks? In a house? That’s a recipe for disaster!
       —Exactly! —Blitzø grinned maniacally—. Disaster is our middle name!
       Millie clapped.
       —Yay! I love fireworks! Remember the Fourth of Wrath last year? So sparkly!
       Loona, in the back, crossed her arms.
       —Just don’t set the place on fire. I actually want to talk to people.
       The van sputtered off, leaving a trail of smoke that made nearby students cough. They hit up a shady convenience store on the edge of town, where Blitzø loaded up on cheap fireworks, silly string, and a suspiciously large bag of confetti that looked like it might be alive.
       Back at Verosika’s place –a sprawling mansion that screamed I’m popular and I know it –the party was already in swing. Music thumped from speakers hidden in the walls, lights flashed in every colour of the rainbow, and students milled about with cups of punch that fizzed a little too suspiciously. Verosika was in her element, dancing with her squad, while Vortex manned the snack table, handing out chips like a pro.
       —This is gonna be the best night ever! —Verosika shouted over the music—.
       Then the doorbell rang. One of her friends opened it, revealing Stolas and Octavia. Stolas swept in like he was at a royal ball.
       —Hello, darlings! What a splendid soiree!
       Octavia hung back, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
       —Yeah... splendid.
       Verosika forced a smile.
       —Stolas! So glad you could make it. And... your sister?
       —Octavia! —Stolas beamed—. She’s here to mingle!
       Octavia muttered under her breath.
       —Mingle. Right.
       As they settled in, the doorbell rang again. This time, it was Stella and Striker, who sauntered in like they owned the place.
       —Stella? —Verosika raised an eyebrow—. Didn’t expect you.
       —Just keeping an eye on things. —Stella said coolly, glancing at Stolas—.
       Striker tipped his hat to Vortex.
       —’Sup, big guy.
       Vortex nodded.
       —’Sup.
       Outside, lurking in the bushes, Blitzø and his crew peeked through the windows.
       —Look at ‘em, all cozy. —Blitzø whispered—. Time to shake things up!
       Moxxie fidgeted.
       —Blitzø, maybe we should just... knock?
       —Knock? Where’s the fun in that? —Blitzø pulled out the fireworks—. Loona, you sneak in first. Act natural. Millie, you’re on distraction duty. Moxx, uh... complain about something to buy time.
       —Why am I always the complainer? —Moxxie whined—.
       Loona sighed but slipped toward the back door, blending into the shadows like the goth she was. She managed to get inside without much fuss, immediately spotting Vortex by the snacks.
       —Hey. —She said, trying to sound casual—.
       —Hey, Loona. —Vortex grinned—. Didn’t think you’d show.
       —Yeah, well... parties aren’t my thing, but free food is.
       They chatted awkwardly, Loona’s usual snarky softening just a tad, while Vortex laughed at her deadpan jokes.
       Back outside, Millie burst through the front door with a whoop.
       —Howdy, y’all! Who’s ready for some fun?
       Verosika’s eyes widened.—What the–? How did you get invited?
       —I invited myself! —Millie beamed, pulling out silly string and spraying it everywhere—.
       Chaos erupted as students ducked. Moxxie stumbled in behind her.
       —Millie! This is not what we– oh, forget it.
       Blitzø lit a firework and tossed it inside, where it fizzed and popped harmlessly –but loudly– sending confetti everywhere.
       —Party’s here, losers! —He yelled, jumping in—.
       Verosika shrieked.
       —Blitzø! Get out!
       But Stolas, spotting him, froze for a second. That hesitation from lunch lingered in the air.
       —Blitzø? What a... surprise.
       Blitzø grinned, but there was an edge to it.
       —Miss me, birdie?
       Stolas forced a laugh.
       —Always entertaining, aren’t you?
       Stella smirked from the corner, whispering to Striker.
       —This is gold. Keep watching.
       Octavia, overwhelmed by the noise, slipped out to the backyard, where she bumped into Wally Wackford –who had somehow weaselled his way in as security.
       —You again? —Octavia blinked—.
       Wally puffed up.
       —Miss Octavia! Fancy seein’ you here. I’m, uh, monitorin’ the fun. School rules apply everywhere, y’know!
       Octavia launched into another rant.
       —School rules at a party? That’s just another way the system controls us, making sure we can’t even relax without–
       Wally’s eyes glazed over as her words turned into that high-pitched chirp again. He slumped against a tree, defeated once more.
       Inside, the party devolved into a mess of silly string, confetti, and spilled punch. Blitzø danced wildly, Moxxie tried to clean up, Millie joined the cheer squad in an impromptu line dance, and Loona actually smiled while talking to Vortex.
       Verosika cornered Blitzø.
       —Why can’t you just leave me alone?
       —Because it’s fun! —Blitzø shot back—. Admit it, your party’s better with me here.
       She huffed but didn’t kick him out immediately.
       Stolas watched from afar, a mix of amusement and something unspoken in his eyes. He approached Blitzø later, when things calmed a bit.
       —Blitzø, about lunch... I didn’t mean–
       —Save it. —Blitzø cut him off, but not harshly—. We’re cool. Just keep bailing me out like always, prez.
       Stolas smiled faintly.
       —Of course.
       The music kept thumping, and the antics rolled on into the night. Blitzø pulled off a few more stunts, like rigging a balloon drop that mostly just tangled everyone in strings. Moxxie spent half the time fretting over potential fire hazards from the leftover fireworks, while Millie turned the dance floor into a makeshift wrestling ring with some willing participants. Loona stuck close to Vortex, trading sarcastic quips that somehow passed for conversation.
       Stella and Striker lurked in the shadows, plotting their next move against Stolas, who flitted around the room charming everyone with his over-the-top compliments. Octavia found a quiet corner to sulk in after her run-in with Wally, scrolling through her phone and ignoring the chaos.
       Verosika tried to reclaim control by cranking up the tunes and starting a group dance, but Blitzø jumped in and turned it into a conga line that snaked through the entire house, knocking over lamps and spilling more snacks.
       As the clock ticked toward midnight, the energy started to dip, but not before one last round of laughs and mishaps. Students began trickling out, covered in confetti and silly string, chatting about how wild the night had been.
       Blitzø high-fived his crew as they piled back into the van.
       —Best crash ever! Who’s up for round two next weekend?
       Moxxie groaned, rubbing his temples.
       —Please, no. I need at least a week to recover.
       Millie giggled.—Aw, come on, Moxx! It was a blast!
       Loona smirked, glancing back at the house.
       —Yeah, whatever. Not the worst.
       Across the street, a shadowy figure watched the lights flicker off in Verosika’s mansion. Was it Principal Abezethibou, keeping tabs? Nah, probably just a stray Hellbeast sniffing around for leftovers. Or... maybe not?
       The group drove off into the night, already buzzing about tomorrow’s pranks at school. Another day at Hell High loomed, full of the same old schemes and squabbles.
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