Leila Wilson never imagined that a single night at a frat party would change her life forever. Quiet, reserved, and more comfortable with a book than in the chaotic swirl of party life, she's never been the type to take risks-until she meets Jesci K...
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The party had come to an abrupt halt after Grace's dad showed up, his flashing lights and authoritative presence enough to send everyone scattering. Jesci wasn't upset about it; in fact, he felt a strange sense of relief as the last of the partygoers filed out of his house. The noise, the chaos—it had all started to wear on him. He was tired of the endless cycle of parties, the constant stream of people he didn't care about, and especially tired of Macy throwing these events at his place just so she could stay in his orbit.
With the house finally quiet, Jesci walked through the now-empty rooms, the remnants of the night scattered around him. Cups, bottles, and crumpled napkins littered the floors, the telltale signs of another night wasted in his increasingly hollow existence. He didn't mind the mess—cleaning up was almost therapeutic in a way—but tonight, he couldn't bring himself to care enough to start. It was all just another reminder of how empty his life felt, despite being constantly surrounded by people.
He made his way to his bedroom, the one place that still felt like his own. Without bothering to turn on the light, he collapsed onto his bed, lighting a cigarette as he stared up at the ceiling. The smoke curled upward, spiraling lazily in the moonlight that streamed through the window. It was quiet now, the kind of quiet that he both craved and dreaded, because it left him alone with his thoughts.
Macy... she was becoming more of a nuisance than anything else. What had started as a convenient arrangement had turned into something suffocating, something that drained him more than it satisfied him. He knew he needed to cut it off, but every time he thought about doing it, there was a part of him that hesitated. Maybe it was the predictability of it all, the way Macy was always there, always willing to play her part in the twisted game. But predictability wasn't enough anymore. He was tired of her, tired of the drama, tired of the emptiness she brought with her.
But it wasn't just Macy who occupied his thoughts tonight. As he exhaled another plume of smoke, his mind drifted to Leila. She was different—refreshingly so.
He couldn't shake the image of her standing there in his hoodie, looking so small and unsure of herself, yet somehow managing to hold his attention in a way that Macy never could. There was an innocence to Leila, a kind of raw vulnerability that made him want to push her away and pull her closer all at the same time. He wasn't used to feeling this way—wasn't used to caring at all.
"Who are you?" Jesci murmured to the empty room, his voice barely audible over the soft crackle of the cigarette.
He knew almost nothing about her, yet she had managed to get under his skin in a matter of hours. It wasn't just the way she looked at him, like she was trying to figure him out, but the way she had made him feel—unsettled, curious, alive. It was like she had walked into his life and disrupted the carefully constructed facade he had built around himself.
Jesci took another drag from the cigarette, the smoke filling his lungs as he tried to push the thoughts away. It was dangerous, this attraction, and he knew it. But that didn't stop him from wanting more.
