The rest of the room exploded as everyone started yelling and swarming the pile, trying to pull Beau off Caleb.

Ben had raced in after Beau. “Beau, I’m sorry, it was—”

Beau’s fist went flying back as he wound up to hit Caleb, but he connected with Dominik’s face instead.

“Ow! Fuck!” Dominik yelled, falling backward and tripping over Ben. The two of them hit the ground, blood streaming from Dominik’s nose.

“Oh God, I hate blood.” Betty clutched at Archer’s arm as she started to tip over.

“Shit.” Archer helped her into a chair. “Put your head between your legs.”

“Beau!” Ben tried to explain from underneath a bleeding Dominik. “Can we please talk?”

It was unlikely Beau could hear a word anyone was saying as he attempted to pummel Caleb amid the chaos. It looked like he managed to land a few hits before Mateo and Archer got him around the waist and dragged him away.

“You piece of shit! You fucking asshole!” Beau let loose a stream of French curses as he flailed in Caleb’s direction. Archer took an elbow in the eye for his efforts at keeping them separated, but maintained his hold on Beau’s waist.

Caleb was curled up in a ball on the floor, arms over his head. Grace helped him up while Mateo tried to calm Beau.

“Easy, Beau. Easy,” Mateo breathed. “Deep breaths.”

Ben and Dominik disentangled themselves, and someone found Dominik a box of tissues, which he plastered to his face in handfuls. Betty still had her head between her legs.

Beau let Mateo guide him into a chair, eyes wet as he gasped for air.

Archer sat next to him and rubbed his knee. “That’s good. Keep breathing.”

Beau still glared daggers at Caleb.

“Seems to me, Caleb’s not the one you should be mad at,” Dominik pointed out helpfully, muffled through the tissue.

Beau nodded. “You’re so right.” He launched himself at Ben.

By the time everyone had calmed down the second time, Dominik’s nose was still bleeding, Ben and Archer had the beginnings of black eyes, Betty was still woozy, and the B-Boys were both crying.

“Well,” Stewart said, straightening his aqua-blue vest as he stood. “That was…”

“What did you want to meet about?” Mateo asked, eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose.

The sound of Beau’s sobs filled the room.

“Er … perhaps it should wait?” Stewart said.

“How could you do this to me?” Beau wailed.

Ben was across the circle, ice pack to his eye. “Beau, come on. We haven’t been happy all summer.”

“But with Caleb?”

Caleb bristled. “That’s rude. Ben—”

“I’ll kindly ask you to shut the fuck up right now, Caleb,” Mateo said through gritted teeth.

“Stop telling me what to do!” Caleb screeched at him. He charged at Mateo.

“Oh, fuck,” Archer had time to gasp, before he threw himself between the two.