EIGHTEEN || SEVENTEEN spin off ||

Chapter Six || Truth

The party || Nat's pov

With a subtle touch on her shoulder, I signal my intention to step away momentarily. "I'm grabbing a drink, I'll be right back," I murmur, my lips grazing her cheek in a tender parting gesture. As I move away, a mixture of emotions swirls within me - the warmth of her presence and the subtle tension that lingers between us.

Navigating through the pulsating sea of partygoers, I find myself navigating through a maze of rooms, each corner filled with laughter, music, and fleeting glimpses of conversations. It's a sensory overload, the atmosphere electric and alive with the thrill of the night.

After what feels like an eternity, I stumble upon the coveted drinks station. The table is adorned with an assortment of colorful concoctions, including a mysterious crimson liquid that piques my curiosity. Scooping a generous portion into my red solo cup, I can't help but voice my bafflement. "What the fuck is this?" I mutter, the question hanging in the air like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

A voice beside me breaks the silence, responding with a casual nonchalance. "No idea, but it's so good." I glance at the girl who spoke, her gaze sweeping over me with a discerning intensity. There's something unsettling about the way she appraises me, an uninvited evaluation that triggers a sense of discomfort deep within me.

The girl's reply catches me off guard, and I can't help but raise an eyebrow in mild surprise. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" I inquire, my voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of skepticism. The sip from my cup provides a momentary distraction, a small buffer that allows me to collect my thoughts.

Her response, accompanied by a playful wink, draws an annoyed and uncomfortable chuckle from me. "No, but you can get to know me," she purrs, her words dripping with innuendo. A flicker of disbelief tugs at the corner of my mind as I process the audacity of her proposition.

My head shakes in a mixture of disbelief and slight annoyance. "No, I have a girlfriend," I assert, the words carrying a quiet resolve that underscores my commitment. It's a statement of loyalty, a boundary I'm determined to maintain.

But her reply, laced with a reckless disregard for the boundaries I've set, sends a jolt of anger coursing through me. "She doesn't have to know," she suggests, her tone insistent and unapologetic. It's a sentiment that both infuriates and disgusts me, a stark reminder of the potential temptations and moral dilemmas that can arise in such settings.

The surge of anger within me propels my response, the words slipping out before I can fully process them. "Get the fuck away from me," I snap, my voice firm and tinged with a mixture of anger and repulsion. The intensity of my emotions takes me by surprise, a reflection of the underlying tension that has been building within me.

Pushing past her, I'm determined to escape the uncomfortable encounter. My strides are purposeful as I navigate the crowded room, my gaze scanning the faces in search of the one person who matters most in this chaotic sea of strangers.

Glancing at the stairs beside me, a surge of determination courses through me - I'll wait up there until the chaos below subsides, seeking refuge from the swirling sea of partygoers. Before I can fully escape, a voice calls out from behind, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes audibly. Sighing inwardly, I begin my ascent up the stairs, hoping to evade any further interactions with the persistent girl.

As we reach a vantage point, she throws an unexpected question my way, her tone tinged with playful intrigue. "You're not going to ask me for my name?" Her words elicit a scoff from me, and I tighten my grip on my cup as if it were a lifeline to my dwindling patience. "Nope," I reply curtly, the one-word response a testament to my growing frustration.

Navigating to the other end of the hallway, I'm met with a sinking realization - there's no easy escape route. Panic begins to bubble beneath my surface, a sensation I struggle to contain. Just as I fear being cornered, her fingers wrap around my arm, and I instinctively try to pull away. "I can be your secret. I won't tell anyone," she coos, a flirtatious giggle underscoring her words. Her attempt to invade my personal space sends a shiver down my spine, and I react without thinking.

My free hand moves on its own, flinging the contents of my cup at her. It's an impulsive, desperate act of defiance, a physical manifestation of my urgent plea for her to release me. "Let go of me," I demand, the words sharp and commanding.

But before I can fully process the chaotic scene unfolding, her lips crash against mine, a shocking collision that freezes time for a fleeting moment. The taste of the drink lingers on my lips, mixing with a sense of violation that intensifies my desire to escape.

The abrupt end of the unexpected kiss is triggered by a familiar voice - Y/N's voice. The sound pierces through the haze, causing me to pull away abruptly. My heart races as I see Y/N standing near me, her presence a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounds us. Panic wells within me as I try to explain, to salvage the situation. "Y/N, it's not what it looks like," I stammer, desperation lacing my words.

But before I can bridge the gap between us, she turns and runs down the stairs, Shauna's voice a chorus of accusation in the background. The words become a blur as my heart thunders in my chest, drowning out the external chaos. All I want is for Y/N to hear me out, to understand the tumultuous series of events that led to this moment. My thoughts race, my chest tightens, and as the world continues to spin around me, my singular focus remains on the hope that Y/N will return and give me a chance to explain.