The dress was too tight, too short, too perfect.
Maya tugged the hem for the fourth time, staring into Tessa's full-length mirror. Emerald green, off-shoulder, velvet, and cruel in the way it knew it looked good. Her curls fell in gentle waves over her shoulder, and her lips -- Tessa's final masterpiece -- were a shade of soft red that said I dare you without saying a word.
"You're gonna ruin lives tonight," Tessa said, leaning in the doorway, arms folded like a proud stylist. "Logan will choke. Brielle will combust. Damien... I don't even know. That boy's an unsolved mystery."
Maya smirked, adjusting her earrings. "Let them all burn."
But the truth was, her stomach wouldn't stop twisting.
She wasn't used to looking like this. She wasn't used to being noticed.
And tonight, she wanted to be noticed.
Even if it destroyed her.
---
The house party was already loud, crowded, and glittering by the time they arrived. Music pumped through the walls like it had a heartbeat of its own. Lights flashed red, gold, and blue. Laughter echoed. And the moment Maya stepped inside, heads turned.
People noticed her.
She wasn't invisible tonight.
And he noticed her too.
Damien was standing across the living room, wearing all black, a glass of something dark in his hand. His shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, sleeves rolled casually, his posture effortless but sharp, like a blade she'd forgotten she was holding.
She hadn't even taken two steps inside when his gaze found her.
It didn't flicker.
Didn't roam.
It just held her there -- still and seen, like she was something fragile he didn't know whether to admire or protect.
She blinked and looked away first.
Tessa nudged her. "Yup. Mystery boy is definitely watching you like he wants to ruin his own life."
But Maya couldn't think, not really. Her head buzzed from more than the music. Her heart felt too big for her chest.
And then Logan walked in.
With Brielle.
Her arm was looped through his like she belonged there. Her laugh too loud, her smile too confident -- like she already knew she'd won.
But Logan?
He wasn't smiling.
He was searching the crowd. Looking for someone. And when he found her, he stopped walking.
Their eyes met.
The air changed.
She turned sharply.
No. Not tonight.
But Logan was already moving toward her, quietly muttering something to Brielle, who scowled and clung tighter to his arm. Maya tried to disappear into the kitchen, but she barely made it to the drink table when he called her name.
"Maya."
She froze.
He stepped in front of her, eyes earnest. "I've been trying to talk to you."
She kept her tone cold. "You shouldn't."
"I meant what I said. Brielle and I...it's nothing. I only went to her because..."
"Because you could," she cut him off. "Because she was easier. Because I wasn't enough."
Logan winced. "That's not true."
"You made me feel like a joke, Logan. You dumped me in front of half the school. So whatever this is -- this guilt, this nostalgia -- it's yours to deal with. I'm done."
Before he could say anything else, someone tapped her shoulder.
She turned.
It was a guy she didn't recognize -- tall, buzzcut, handsome in that smug, Friday-night kind of way. His eyes raked over her dress like it was made of something edible.
"Wanna dance?" he asked, already holding out a hand.
She didn't even think.
"Yes."
Logan's face tightened. "Maya..."
"I'm not yours anymore," she said over her shoulder.
The stranger grinned like he'd just won a bet and led her toward the middle of the living room. The bass vibrated through the floor. People moved like smoke, drunk and bold. Maya let the stranger place his hands on her hips and pull her close.
It was wrong.
Too close.
Too rough.
He moved like he owned her body already, hands traveling lower than they should have, breath hot and sour near her cheek. She forced herself to sway along with him, but her smile faltered.
She felt eyes on her again.
She turned her head -- and met Damien's stare from across the room.
He hadn't moved.
But his jaw was clenched.
His eyes were fire.
And then he did move.
One long stride after another, his drink abandoned, his presence cutting through the crowd like smoke parting for wind.
"Mind if I cut in?" he asked, voice low and cold as steel.
The stranger barely looked up. "We're dancing, man."
"I can see that," Damien said. "I asked if you minded."
"Yeah, I do. She said yes."
And before Maya could speak, Damien placed a hand on the guy's shoulder -- calm but firm. His next words were soft, dangerous.
"She's not dancing with you anymore."
There was something about the way Damien stood -- shoulders relaxed, gaze dark and steady -- that made the stranger flinch. He raised his hands in surrender, smirking as he backed off.
"All yours, bro. Chill."
When he was gone, Maya turned to Damien.
"You didn't have to..."
"Yes," he said quietly, his eyes still on the space where the stranger's hands had been. "I did."
And then, without asking, he pulled her gently into him.
No words.
Just his hand at the small of her back, and hers finding his shoulder like muscle memory.
The music slowed.
She let herself rest against him, breath catching.
"I'm fine," she whispered.
"No, you're not."
"I wanted to be someone else tonight."
He didn't answer. His grip tightened a little.
"You looked like you were going to kill him."
"I thought about it."
That made her laugh, a short, sharp breath that tasted like regret.
Damien looked down at her, his voice almost a murmur. "Don't give yourself away like that. Not to guys like him. Not when you're worth more."
Maya's chest ached.
Her fingers curled against his shirt. "Then take me away from all this. Make me forget."
He paused.
She kissed him.
Harder than she meant to. Slower than she thought she would.
Her lips trembled against his, not because she was scared -- but because for once, she didn't want to think. Didn't want to feel the ache that had been lodged in her chest for weeks. Not for Logan. Not for what was lost.
Just for this.
Just for Damien.
He didn't move at first.
Didn't kiss her back.
Didn't breathe.
But then he did.
One hand found the curve of her waist.
The other came up -- slow, cautious -- to her jaw, fingers brushing her skin like she might vanish if he touched too hard.
And then he kissed her back.
No rush.
No noise.
Just heat. Control. Hunger buried under restraint.
Her heart thudded. Her knees might've given out if he hadn't been holding her.
But just as quickly as it began, he pulled away.
Not roughly.
Not angrily.
Just... slowly. Like he was walking out of something that could burn them both if he stayed.
She opened her mouth to say something -- anything -- but he shook his head once.
Not tonight.
His eyes lingered on hers. Something sharp, broken, and too deep to name flickered there.
Then he let go of her waist. Of her. Of everything.
And walked away.
Without a word.
Leaving the music, the crowd, and her heart still beating far too fast.