The Hidden City

Chapter 2: The Attack

The bass thumped through Matthew's chest as he stood in the pulsating heart of the party. His best friend, Scott, clapped him on the back, urging him to lighten up. The room was a riot of colors, laughter, and thumping music, but Matt couldn't shake the feeling that he was out of place. No matter how hard he tried to blend in with the lively atmosphere, a profound sense of disconnection gnawed at him. It wasn't the energy of the party that unsettled him; it was the lingering understanding that no matter what, he somehow didn't fit into this picture-perfect scene.

The laughter of his friends echoed around him, but it all felt distant and hollow. The vibrant hues of the party seemed too vivid, too artificial. He glanced around, observing the familiar faces lost in the revelry, yet the camaraderie felt surface-level. Despite being surrounded by people he called friends, a subtle loneliness gripped him. The more he tried to immerse himself, the more everything seemed staged—like a performance. The laughter, the music, the flashing lights—it all felt forced, and Matthew was nothing more than an outsider, watching from the sidelines.

He excused himself and slipped outside, away from the sensory overload. The night air greeted him with a cool breeze, but even the calmness failed to shake off the unease clinging to his chest. He stared up at the stars, their brilliance contrasting with the party lights that glowed faintly from the house behind him. As he gazed at the sky, a sense of yearning enveloped him, an unshakable feeling that something was missing. He didn't understand why he felt this way, but the ordinary had become extraordinary, and the extraordinary felt strangely mundane.

His thoughts were interrupted when a girl with cascading dark curls approached, her coy smile pulling him back to the present. She sauntered up, letting her eyes trail up from Matthew's muscular frame to his bright blue eyes.

"Hey there, Matt. You look like you could use some company," she flirted, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers.

Matt, startled out of his reverie, gave her a polite smile. "Thanks, but I'm just catching my breath."

He couldn't help but think of Emily, his girlfriend, who would most definitely scratch this girl's eyes out if she saw her flirting with him. He started to wonder where Emily had gone. Last he saw, she was grabbing a drink, and Scott had followed her.

Undeterred by his polite brush-off, the girl stepped closer, running her fingers lightly from his neck to his shaggy blonde hair. "Come on, don't be shy. A party's meant for mingling," she teased, her voice carrying a playful lilt.

Maintaining his composure, Matt smiled but quickly made an excuse. "I appreciate it, but I promised a buddy I'd catch up with him. Maybe next time?"

The girl pouted slightly but shrugged it off. Before she could say anything else, Matt turned and headed back inside, weaving through the crowded living room until he found Kyle, one of their football teammates, deep in conversation with a few other guys.

"Man, this party is epic! Why do you look so down, Matt?" Kyle grinned, playfully nudging him.

"I'm just not feeling it tonight," Matt admitted, his gaze flicking toward the second exit to avoid the girl from earlier. "Think I'm gonna head home."

"Come on, dude! It's just getting started. Stay a bit longer," Kyle insisted, flashing him a lopsided grin.

Matt shook his head. "Nah, man. I'm beat. Catch you later."

As he turned to leave, he bumped into someone. Instinctively, his hands shot out to catch her before she could fall, and when she turned to face him, Matt blinked in surprise.

"Sam? Wow, it's been ages," Matt said with a surprised smile, his voice slightly cracking.

Samantha's eyes widened, and for a second, he saw the same recognition flicker in her honey-brown eyes. "Matt... I can't believe it's you."