Rage With Benefits

Prologue

Hate manifests itself in different ways: physical violence, backhanded compliments, a literal hate crime, or the old, crude, passive-aggressive behavior. You can always choose the people you hate just as much as you can choose who you'd prefer to tolerate. As the saying goes, "The more you hate, the more you love." But one question perseveres, "Is that really always the case?"

"Oh, stop it," she puckered her full lips at the boy ogling her, the bronze glow of her skin complemented the red top that accented her pretty curves. "I've been talking about myself all night, how about you tell me something about you?"

The brunet grinned. Attractive doesn't even begin to describe the depth and intensity of his eyes, the perfect angle of his nose, down to the gentle curve on his pink lips. He's perfect, but even then, perfect boys aren't immune to being interrupted.

A blonde one, neither taller than the first — some would say he's far more fetching, but it's a dilemma — willed his way between Ian and his sort-of date, making the other boy groan internally as his eyes shot skyward.

"Hi, there," he waved.

"I'm Bryce, and you..." the blond spoke next to the girl's ear, sparing Ian a glance the brunet knew was anything but kind.

Most of the time, hate is drawn by your worst fear, an itch you can't scratch, an uneven haircut...

"can absolutely do better."

Or in this case, a hostile party.

"Hi..." she reached for his outstretched hand. "Maia."

"I'll be over at the kitchen if you need me, Maia," Bryce muttered, standing up before lifelessly darting his eyes at Ian. "Hey, Billy didn't see you there."

Ian scowled and bit the insides of his cheek to keep himself from acting like a provoked child. He closed his eyes and exhaled, deciding to ignore the one person who could ruin the rest of his night.

Hate is a tricky thing.

"Who was that?" the girl Maia asked curiously, leaning towards Ian without taking her eyes off Bryce's back. "I mean, I know he said his name but do you... do you two know each other?"

"No one," the brunet murmured with gritted teeth as Bryce threw him a mocking air kiss from the kitchen. He was with his friends, sipping on a cup of punch as he continued his silent torture of Ian with his irritating, pretentious smolder. "Just someone who loves getting on my nerves."

Ian tore his eyes off of him, anger pulsing in his veins before it faded into a dull excitement as he turned around to get a fresh glass from the bar, prepared to flash a smirk to Maia. "So where did we land on that- son of a bitch..."

The smile faded from his face at the sight of an empty chair, followed by the girl he was supposed to go home with tonight trading spit with Bryce in the kitchen. She's fast, Ian at least could give her that.

"What's with the face?" Another glass clunked against Ian's as Emery slid to the seat next to him. The redheaded boy glanced ahead, letting out a broken laugh when he realized what Ian was glaring at. "Damn."

Hate is as much an enigma as love, and just like love, it only lasts until you realize something else is lying unseen underneath it. And once it stops, you can only either wish it didn't...

"I'm gonna be up for murder charges," Ian grumbled, scowling at the named vulture while his best friend chuckled. Bryce winked at him before walking out of the scene with his arm around the shoulder of another girl he was bound to forget. "Asshole."

or that you'd realized sooner.