Paris Adler and Sydney Blake have been college classmates for a while. Paris is captivated by Sydney's beauty and talent in fashion, while Sydney is drawn to Paris's gentle nature, photography and poetic skills. Their story is one of budding romance...
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I stormed out of the house, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, trying to hold myself together. But the further I got from the chaos of the kitchen, the more my emotions began to unravel. Paris kept calling my name, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. Not until I reached the lawn, where the cool night air hit my face, grounding me just enough to finally turn around.
Paris came to a halt a few feet away, his face a mix of worry, anger, and something that looked like fear. "Sydney, please, just talk to me."
I clenched my fists, trying to keep my voice steady, but it cracked anyway. "Talk to you? After what just happened in there? After everything Steph put me through, and you—" I couldn't finish the sentence, the words catching in my throat.
He took a step closer, his hands raised as if to calm me down. "I was just trying to protect you."
"But speaking of which, what were you thinking, Sydney?" Paris followed up with another question, blurted out, his voice trembling. "Why didn't you call me? Or at least text me when Steph was dragging you into that mess? Why didn't you let me know?"
"I didn't have a choice!" I shot back, my voice cracking with emotion. "Steph was insistent, and the only way I could think to get out of it was by agreeing, but on my terms! I made him agree to challenge Harper instead, as he offered Steph a challenge."
"Harper?!" Paris's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why Harper, Sydney? Why not me? You should've called me! I could've handled it. I would've taken him on in that... f**ckin' shot glass contest. But you didn't. And look what happened—it's too late now!"
"And the worst part..." I interrupted, my voice tight as I struggled to contain the jealousy bubbling, "I can't believe he just kissed you like that, and I wasn't there to stop it!"
"I tried to push him off, Paris!" I defended, tears finally spilling over. "I tried, but he was too strong. Do you think I wanted any of that to happen?" I shot, tears stinging my eyes. "Do you have any idea how I've got humiliated there? Being dragged into that stupid drinking contest, forced to watch while Steph made a fool of himself, and then... then you come in and start throwing punches like some jealous boyfriend! You nearly killed him, Paris, along with Harper!"
"But you didn't call me," he repeated, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "You didn't even think to let me know, and now I can't stop thinking that maybe you didn't want me there. Maybe you were okay with him being around."
"That's not true!" I screamed and sobbed, the frustration breaking through.
"I just... I can't believe this," Paris said, his voice breaking. "Every time you're not around, I'm worrying. I'm worried you might be with him, you might run into him, and he'll try to take you away from me. I can't stand that, Sydney. I feel so insecure."
"That's what this is about, isn't it? Your insecurity?" I fired back, my own tears starting to fall, my heart pounding with frustration and hurt. "I've never given you a reason to doubt me, Paris! I've done nothing but be honest with you! I've been there for you—helping you with your studies, working side by side with you in Professor Lambert's class when your short film project hit a dead end. I even let you stay in my dorm when you needed a place, and I've trusted you with my car! What more do you want from me? What have you given me, Paris? What have you done to show me that you trust me, too?"
