Chapter One: Rooftop Secrets
The stairwell was narrow, humming with the low buzz of the city below. Maya's sneakers scuffed against the last step as she pushed open the metal door. Cold night air rushed in, sharp with the smell of rain and exhaust. She exhaled, relief spilling out of her chest.
Finally—quiet.
The rooftop had become her secret sanctuary. Classes, crowded dorms, the constant chatter of people who didn't really see her—it all faded up here. She could breathe above it all, watching the city flicker like constellations scattered across concrete.
Except tonight, she wasn't alone.
A figure leaned against the railing, smoke curling like pale ribbons around his face. Even in shadow, he radiated that kind of dangerous beauty that didn't need an introduction. The guy everyone whispered about. The guy whose reputation walked two steps ahead of him.
His profile was sharp, hair falling across his forehead in careless strands. A lit cigarette burned between his fingers, ember glowing every time he inhaled. He didn't turn when she froze in the doorway, but his voice slipped into the air—low, deliberate.
"You're late."
Maya blinked. Her throat tightened. Late? She hadn't planned to meet anyone, least of all him.
"I—" The word snagged. "Sorry?"
Finally, he turned, eyes narrowing like he was measuring her. There was something merciless in his gaze, but also… curiosity. He looked at her like she was a puzzle piece that didn't fit the picture.
"You're not who I was waiting for," he said flatly, flicking ash into the night.
Heat flushed her cheeks. She wanted to snap back, but before she could, the door behind her creaked open again.
Footsteps. Laughter. A burst of warmth that cut straight through the rooftop chill.
And then her.
She slipped through the doorway with the kind of presence that turned heads without trying. Hair the color of copper under neon glow, messy waves that caught the wind. Eyes alive with something uncontainable, like she carried fire behind them.
"About time," the guy muttered, shifting his weight. But Maya barely heard him.
Because the girl's gaze had landed on her. And in that split-second, Maya's world tilted.
The girl's smile was small but devastating—an unspoken oh, you're here too? paired with a flicker of intrigue. It wasn't like the guy's heavy, calculating stare. No, this was lighter, sharper. Like a spark leaping across an unseen gap.
Maya's pulse stuttered. Her lungs forgot how to work.
The girl tilted her head. "Didn't mean to crash your spot," she said, voice warm, threaded with amusement. "Looks like we've both been dragged into his orbit."
Maya swallowed, her tongue clumsy. "I—it's fine. I was just leaving."
But she didn't move. Couldn't.
The guy rolled his eyes, crushing his cigarette underfoot. "Stay, don't stay—just don't get in the way." His tone was dismissive, but Maya felt strangely invisible now, like his presence had faded into background noise.
Because the girl had stepped closer, her gaze never wavering. "Don't let him scare you off," she whispered, conspiratorial. "He likes to play the villain. It's a thing."
A laugh—shaky, unplanned—escaped Maya's throat. It startled her almost as much as the girl's proximity. She smelled faintly of citrus and rain, something bright against the night.
For the first time in weeks, Maya didn't feel like an outsider peering through glass. She felt… seen.
The guy's phone buzzed, slicing through the moment. He muttered something under his breath and stalked to the far end of the rooftop, pacing.
And then it was just the two of them. The city humming below. The night holding its breath.
The girl leaned against the railing beside Maya, arms folded, gaze tilted toward the skyline. "So," she said, voice casual, "what's your name, rooftop stranger?"
Maya hesitated, the word heavy on her tongue, knowing this was the start of something. "Maya."
The girl's lips curved. "I'm Rhea."
She said it like a secret, like a promise.
And just like that, the rooftop didn't feel lonely anymore.