The afternoon buzzed with excitement at Bini College for Women. News of Stacey’s upcoming birthday party had spread like wildfire. Being one of the most popular student, Stacey’s parties were legendary, and this one promised to be no different.
Stacey was making her way down the hallway, handing out beautifully designed invitations, gold foil against matte black paper. She was smiling, chatting briefly with each person she invited, her confident demeanor drawing everyone's attention.
As she approached her classmate, Aiah, Stacey stopped and handed her an invitation with a knowing smile.
“I expect to see you there, Aiah,” Stacey said warmly. “And feel free to bring a plus one.”
Aiah looked surprised but nodded politely, taking the invitation. "Thanks, Stacey. I’ll definitely come."
As Stacey moved on to the next group, Aiah turned the invitation over in her hands, the elegant script catching the sunlight.
Later that day, Aiah was sitting under the large tree in the courtyard with her friend Maloi, a first-year college student who had recently transferred from the US. Maloi was flipping through her notebook, occasionally glancing up as Aiah stared at the invitation.
“What’s that?” Maloi asked, her curiosity piqued.
“An invite to Stacey Lim’s birthday party,” Aiah replied. “She said I could bring a plus one. You want to come?”
Maloi looked up, surprised. “Me? Party? I don’t know… I’m not exactly great with crowds.”
“Oh, come on,” Aiah teased. “It’s not just any party, it’s the Stacey Lim’s party. It’ll be fun, and you might get to know more people.”
Maloi hesitated, her fingers tapping against her notebook.
Finally, she sighed. “Fine. But if it gets too much, I’m dragging you out of there.”
Aiah grinned. “Deal.”
---
Mikha is leaning casually against a wall near the lockers, scrolling through her phone, her leather jacket slung over her shoulder. She looks up, bored, scanning the students passing by.
That’s when she spots her sister, Stacey, handing out invitation cards to students as they walk by.
Mikha arches an eyebrow in mild curiosity, watching Stacey’s every move. Her expression changes, though, when she sees who Stacey is talking to next.
Denise.
The girl Mikha flirted with days ago. The girl with the confident smirk, the hypnotizing eyes, and a sway in her step that caught Mikha’s attention almost immediately.
Stacey hands Denise a card, chatting animatedly about her upcoming birthday party. Denise takes it with a playful smile, tilting her head as she listens, but her gaze shifts, locking with Mikha's from across the hall.
Denise’s smile widens, her body language changing subtly, leaning into the conversation but keeping her eyes fixed on Mikha.
Mikha feels the corner of her mouth twitch into a smirk. It’s always been like this. she doesn’t have to say a word, yet somehow people gravitate toward her. But with Denise, there’s something slightly different.
She knows Denise isn’t shy or timid. She’s bold, confident, and knows exactly what she wants. And right now, she wants Mikha’s attention.
As Stacey walks away to give out more invitations, Denise steps closer to Mikha, the card still in her hand.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Denise says, her voice smooth, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Mikha shrugs, pushing off the wall. “Didn’t expect you to be so... interested in my sister’s party.”
Denise chuckles, twirling the card in her fingers. “Well, she invited me. Besides, I hear the parties at your place are... unforgettable.” Her gaze lingers on Mikha as she says the last word.
Mikha steps closer, closing the gap between them. “They are. But something tells me you’re not just coming for the party.”
Denise leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Maybe I’m coming for you. Is that so bad?”
Mikha tilts her head, her smirk widening. “That depends. Can you handle it?”
The tension between them is electric, drawing a few curious glances from nearby students. Denise doesn’t back down, holding Mikha’s gaze confidently.
“Guess we’ll find out at the party,” Denise replies, slipping the card into her bag.
As she walks away, her hips swaying with deliberate intent, Mikha watches her go, a mix of amusement and intrigue playing on her face.
For Mikha, Denise was supposed to be just another fleeting connection, a way to kill time. But something about Denise’s boldness and the way she commanded attention made Mikha feel like she might’ve met her match.
“Looks like this party just got a lot more interesting,” Mikha mutters to herself, a rare flicker of anticipation lighting her eyes as she walks off in the opposite direction.
---
As Mikha's last class ended at exactly 6 PM, the students filtered out of the lecture hall, the tired chatter of the day still buzzing in the air. Mikha tossed her books into her bag, the weight of the long hours of studying and lectures already forgotten.
Her friends, Colet, and Johanna were waiting by the doors, each with their own carefree expressions.
"Finally!" Colet exclaimed, her face lighting up. "I can't wait to blow off some steam."
Mikha smirked, already feeling the pull of the night ahead. "You guys know the drill, right? Club, drinks, maybe some trouble. Nothing too complicated."
"Just don’t get too drunk, Mikha. You were a mess last time." A familiar voice suddenly appeared to the scene, It's Gwen who was waiting for them the entire time.
"Who? Me?" Mikha feigned innocence, adjusting her leather jacket with a grin. "I’m a professional."
Johanna laughed, shaking her head. "Sure, Mikha, sure."
