I sat back in the Limo, anxiously watching the front doors. Keith was busy texting. Adriana was scrolling through Instagram like we weren’t even there.
It felt like I was the only one actually waiting. So of course I was the first to see Phoebe and Megan strutting over, heels tapping like it was their personal runway.
Phoebe slid into the seat beside Keith with a quick breath. "Sorry! We took forever, I know."
"You look fire, babe," Keith grinned, kissing her cheek. "Megan, you’re killing it too."
Megan smirked. "Thanks."
I leaned forward. "So... can we go now?" Mostly just trying to figure out if Merlina was actually coming.
They both nodded, but Phoebe hesitated just a second too long. That’s when I knew.
Keith caught it too. "Where’s Mystery Girl? Don’t tell me Merlina bailed?"
Phoebe didn’t answer.
Megan read a message on her phone and looked up. "She’s coming," she said, "But she’s got a different ride."
"She ditched us?" Keith asked, his question didn’t make it any better, like the whole car felt too small and suffocating.
"Who cares?" I snapped, adjusting the cuff of my sleeve. I wasn’t surprised she didn’t join us, but still— it annoyed me.
We drove off, clearly her Uber was more exclusive.
The drive was longer than I anticipated, but Keith tried to make it fun with music and shots, the girls engaged in little chit chats.
"You should try the pool when we get there. Brandon always goes all out with stuff like that." Phoebe added in.
Megan nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, the pool’s awesome. I mean, it’s the highlight of the after party, right?"
Adriana finally looked up from her phone long enough to give a half-smile. "I’m not much of a swimmer, but I’ll check it out, I guess."
Phoebe grinned, way too excited. "Imagine if we end up in his next YouTube vid. We’d blow up."
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. These were the things they cared about.
When we pulled up, the venue looked like a movie set—neon lights, a line out front, people already spilling into the entrance. Brandon had gone overboard, even for him.
Inside was louder, colder. An indoor pool sparkled under glass chandeliers. Strippers served drinks. The kind of scene you either brag about or lie about being at.
Brandon spotted me first. "Craig!" he yelled, flashing his million-dollar smile.
"Hey! You seen Conor?"
He shook his head. "He’s out of town. Didn’t he tell you?"
Right. "Yeah—forgot."
Lie. He told everyone but me. Classic.
Adriana leaned in, "Happy Birthday Big B!"smiling at Brandon. "This place is unreal."
He smiled back. "You’re glowing, Adriana."
She laughed. "I’m always glowing."
We returned to our group, settling into a velvet-roped VIP area. The room was already split into cliques—jocks by the bar, goths by the pool, wannabe influencers orbiting Brandon like satellites.
Keith ordered drinks. Adriana leaned into me, whispering something about Paris. I smiled, nodded, tuned her out.
Because I couldn’t stop glancing at the entrance.
We were halfway through our first round of drinks, the glass in my hand barely touched my lips when I saw her—Merlina.
Red dress. Clean lines. No frills. It didn’t scream for attention, but the room paused anyway. Like the dress didn’t wear her, she wore it like a warning. Sharp, deliberate. Effortless.
And then, just as I was soaking it in, there was Louis O’Connor stepping up beside her. His hand at her waist, guiding her through the crowd like he was an unpaid tour guide.
I leaned back in my seat, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from darting over to them, tracing their every move.
They said something to the birthday boy, Brandon. He gave them a smile and warm welcome.
Louis continued lingering over her, casually brushing a strand of hair off her shoulder, and place his hand back in her waist like it belonged there. Casual. Confident.
I shifted, suddenly aware of how stiff my posture had gotten, how my fingers tightened around the glass, knuckles paling as if I needed something solid to hold onto.
They came in together?
He leaned down, whispered something. She laughed, not loud, not fake, just that soft smile she gives when she actually means it.
I looked away, then back. Couldn’t help it.
Her eyes skimmed past Phoebe and Megan before landing on me.
For half a second, everything went still. The noise of the party faded. My chest tightened, like something had cracked open inside me. Her eyes landed on Phoebe, then Megan. Then me.
For a heartbeat. For an eternity.
Long enough to strip away all the noise, all the distractions, leaving only her and me suspended in that moment. Her eyes were quiet, but in them, I could see the weight of everything she wasn’t saying.
And then, like someone pulled a curtain, she looked away. Smooth. Sharp. Final.
Louis’s arm slid a little tighter around her waist.
I wanted to rip it off.
It wasn’t just jealousy. It was the way she let him in. So easily. Like she didn’t make me believe she was some tough heroine, who was only in Belford to get justice for her mother.
Phoebe said something, but I wasn’t listening.
She walked right past us. No pause. No word. Just a fleeting smile for Keith, a nod to Phoebe, and she was gone—Megan trailing close behind.
She didn’t even try to stay.
And maybe that’s what hit the hardest.
Still, I wasn’t about to let it ruin my night.
Adriana looked up at me with those big, expectant eyes. "Hey," she said, tilting her head. "You good?"
I smiled. "Better now that you’re here."
She grinned, shifting closer. That’s what she wanted. Easy. Warm. No drama.
We danced, drank, bounced between booths. Adriana dragged me onto the floor, pulling me into her orbit. I let her. Let the lights blur, the noise fill the cracks.
For a while, it worked.
I smiled, kind of. Adriana twirled, laughing. She really was beautiful, hair curled just right, confidence oozing off her. She deserved someone who looked at her like she was the center of the room.
Fireworks went off—literal fireworks. ’Happy Birthday Brandon!’ in pyrotechnic letters. The crowd screamed. Phones flew up. People posed.
The drinks were flowing, the music was pumping, and for a minute, I was caught up in it all. But then, someone handed me something strong—way too strong—and I felt it hit me faster than I expected. I pushed it aside, but soon, the edges of my vision blurred, and the room started spinning.
"Think I need air," I muttered.
Adriana looked up, concern flickering. "Want me to come?"
"Nah, I’m good. Just a minute."
I made it to the restroom, the cold water splashed across my face, a fleeting relief. Jacket off, hair wet, I didn’t bother fixing it. I didn’t care. My head felt cloudy, the weight of everything a little too much, so I took a moment to let the coolness ground me.
Walking out the restroom, gently patting my damp face, I crashed straight into someone.
It was her. Right in front of me.
I could smell the faint hint of perfume, something fresh, like jasmine and a hint of citrus. My heart thudded in my chest.
She stumbled a bit, her hand instinctively shooting out to steady herself. Her handed landed my shoulder, her fingers brushed against my neck, and for a split second, my world stopped.
I could barely breathe, watching the way her chest rose and fell with each quick breath. Her eyes flickered up at me, a mix of surprise and something else—maybe a little hazy, definitely a little off-balance.
"Crai—" she stopped, her voice a soft whisper. She pulled her hand away quickly, as if I’d burned her.