Bet ~Jean x Reader AU~

Chapter 8: Invitation

I stared blankly at the sheet of paper, its smooth page bare of any smudges or lead. It was empty, no life at all occupying it. It was just a blank sheet of paper, nothing more and nothing less. And it infuriated the living hell out of me -it drove me insane.

I was situated on the third floor of the Student Union (SU), my work sprawled out around me. My art graphite set, sketchbook, and photo references all surrounded me, everything overtaking the tabletop while an open bag of chips fed and nourished me. Yeah, that was an excellent lunch, but I was too focused on my assignment to really care. Professor Ral had assigned us our first project of a self-portrait, which we had only the weekend to complete before turning it in Monday. So, there I was, scrambling to find a photograph I was happy enough with on that Friday afternoon, not paying any mind to my surroundings.

I hadn't touched my drawing of Nala since that Tuesday and nor had I thought much about the man who had photographed her. I didn't have time to. I was too focused on my classes and trying to ditch the thought of YM/N (your mother's name) and YF/N. My father's words lingered in my mind. 'She's your mother'. I shook my head. No. None of that matters. I need to focus.

I shoved any thoughts of my parents away and returned to my work. To be honest, I was struggling with the project. Self-portraits never were my favorite kind of assignment. If anything, I dreaded them. I never liked looking at myself. I tolerated glimpsing in mirrors to see if I was somewhat presentable in my plain nature, but that didn't mean I enjoyed it. It just made me feel...uncomfortable. That was the only way to put it. Nothing about myself made me feel okay.

I breathed in frustration and scratched my head, my annoyance overwhelming. I almost wanted to chuck my sketchbook across the table, but I refrained, especially when I heard someone clear their throat, their presence almost too close for my own personal comfort. I could feel my body slightly tremble, my anxiety getting the better of me. I was too nervous to glimpse up, but I somehow managed to muster up as much courage as possible before glancing up towards where I heard the person.

My eyes collided with a set of warm chestnut orbs and a bright smile that reached the depth of them. A tall fellow that I recognized with inky black hair parted in the center and an adorable freckled face was smiling down at me, his hand clutching his bag's strap. I could feel my throat go dry when I realized who he was. One of the boys from the café. But that didn't matter. I was too focused on why he was staring at me, flashing me that smile. To be frank, I thought maybe he recognized me as well.

"Hi there, I'm Marco Bodt and I'm a member of Alpha Delta Alpha (I don't really know much about fraternities and sororities or their names, so please forgive me for just throwing this name together) and we're throwing a party tonight," he beamed, passing me a flyer. "It's an open party to the whole campus. We'd love if you joined us."

I took the flyer from him, my eyes scanning over it. It was a yellow sheet with black print, the images of black and gray party balloons inked on it, the words copied on it hyping the idea of a party, giving the location and time. It was obviously being held at the Alpha Delta Alpha (ADA) house near campus at eight that evening, but I had no real intentions to go. It went against my nature, but I wasn't going to be rude.

Instead, I just glanced up and smiled, "Thank you. I'll try to be there."

"Awesome," he grinned, scratching the back of his head. "We hope to see you there...oh, uh. I'm sorry. What's your name?"

"Oh," I blinked. "L/N...Y/N L/N."

"Cool," he smiled. "Hope to see you there, Y/N. It was nice to meet you."

"Likewise," I mumbled under my breath just as Marco turned away, drifting over to another table before repeating the process.

I watched from my seat as he worked at chatting with a group of girls, handing them each a copy of the flyer. He beamed at them, the smile on his face broad and bright with friendliness just beaming from him. I won't lie, it was sort of refreshing, but it still wasn't enough to get me to ditch my old habits. I waited until Marco left the girls' table and disappeared around the bend before crumpling up the paper and shoving it into my backpack. There was no way I was going to that frat house and I sure as hell wasn't about to go to it for some shindig.

I planned to run a few small errands to the store for a few things, maybe pick up dinner, and return to my dorm room at which I'd jump into my comfy pajamas and binge watch ER reruns while stuffing my face with ice cream. Those were my dazzling plans for the evening. Then, I'd go to bed only to get up and go to work in the A.M. hours. That would rule my weekend. At no point would I attend some pointless party that would in no way benefit me.

But, as I tried to concentrate back on my work, my eyes drifted to my backpack. I wonder...will that photographer be there? And I shook my head, immediately dismissing that thought. No. Doesn't matter. I'm not going.

**Bello my wonderful lovelies! I hope y'all enjoyed this little chapter. Anyways, thank you so much for reading! Y'all rock! Wuv yous!! <3**

-Noel Ross