Ethan Clark didn't know it yet, but that day he was about to see a pair of eyes that would change everything.
The campus of MTM University, one of the most prestigious institutions in Westwood City, buzzed with restless energy: suitcase wheels rolling, printers humming, and students rushing between classes with final projects clutched in their arms. From his seat in the cafeteria, Ethan barely noticed any of it. His mind was stuck on a single, maddening thought: he still hadn't found his model.
His right leg bounced beneath the table, impatient. RickTentation magazine had given him the biggest break of his life—his photos would be published across the city. The pay wasn't great, but the exposure could open every door he'd ever dreamed of. There was only one problem.He needed someone very specific: a young man with long black hair, presence sharp enough to cut through the lens. He'd searched. He'd tried. But none of them were right.
"Damn it…" he muttered, dragging a hand down his face before forcing his gaze back to the strangers filing into the cafeteria.
Beside him, Dante Black leaned back lazily in his chair, crimson-dyed hair falling in messy strands over his striking green eyes—eyes that always glimmered with mischief. His grin was as shameless as ever, daring the world to take him seriously.
"Relax, Ethan. You've still got three months. It's not the end of the world."
Ethan, with his short wavy brown hair and clear blue eyes, shot him a look of pure annoyance."Three months vanish in a blink. And if I don't find him, I'm done for."
Dante tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips."At this rate, in three months the only thing you'll have is an ulcer."
Before Ethan could say more, a bright voice cut through the noise like sunlight.
"Boys!" Claire Wilson strode over, tall and effortlessly striking, her short blond hair gleaming under the lights. She tossed her backpack onto a chair and beamed, her smile lighting up the whole table. "Clear your schedules for Saturday night. I got us into that new downtown club, and you're both coming. No excuses."
Dante raised a hand dramatically, like he was pledging allegiance."I'm in—even if it's just to watch you drooling over girls' asses."
"Idiot!" Claire smacked his shoulder, though she was laughing. Then she turned to Ethan, pointing like he had no say in the matter. "And you're coming too."
Ethan let out a defeated sigh."Well… maybe I'll find something useful there."
"That's the spirit." Claire grinned, satisfied.
That evening, as the sky faded into gold and violet, Ethan met one of the magazine's editors at a café near campus. The place was nearly empty. Too empty. And so was the news he received: the deadline had been moved up. One month, not three.
He held his composure while the editor was there. But the second the man left, his chest collapsed under the weight of it. Stumbling out of the café, he pressed his phone to his ear, calling Dante over and over.
"Pick up… please…" he muttered, every unanswered ring fraying his nerves even further.
Dante didn't answer. Ethan walked without direction, lost in his thoughts, until the stoplight forced him to halt. And then—he saw him.
Across the street, a boy moved with unsettling confidence: tall, broad-shouldered, black hair brushing past his neck. There was something magnetic about him, as if the crowd blurred into nothing around him. Even the noise of the traffic seemed to fade, replaced by the echo of Ethan's own heartbeat.
But it wasn't his stride that stole Ethan's breath.It was his eyes.
Yellow. Sharp. Unbelievably unreal. Eyes that seemed to glow under the cold streetlights, piercing through skin as if they could read his soul. Eyes that couldn't possibly belong to a human being. That gaze pinned him to the spot, heart racing, air caught in his throat.
Ethan's lips parted."…It's him."
The light changed. He stepped forward to cross, but in the span of a heartbeat, the boy was gone—swallowed whole by the crowd.
It felt like reaching for paradise, only to be thrown back into the dark."Shit…" Ethan whispered, spinning around desperately. "Where are you?"
The perfect model had vanished.But those eyes still burned in his mind, as if they had branded him forever.
After a while searching through the crowd, Ethan finally gave up. He returned to campus disappointed, his mind stuck on that impossible gaze. That night he dreamed again and again of those golden eyes—and of what it would mean to have him in front of his camera.
Saturday arrived faster than expected. After a long day of classes and projects, winter break was finally here. Claire was waiting outside the boys' dorms, dressed in something bold and fitted, her red lipstick making her playful smile stand out even more.
"Ready for a good show?" she asked Dante, hooking her arm through his with a conspiratorial grin.
Dante arched a brow before smirking."I'm always ready for the good stuff."
They both laughed, already planning the night, until Claire glanced at the time impatiently."Where the hell is Ethan?"
"He started getting ready late. Been sulking about the whole model thing," Dante said with a shrug.
Claire clicked her tongue."Still on that? He'll find someone, he's got plenty of time."
"Yeah… about that." Dante crossed his arms with a sigh. "He only has a month."
Her eyes widened."Shit…"
Right then Ethan appeared. His outfit was simple but well put together, making his clear blue eyes stand out, giving him an unusual air of confidence.
"Hey, nice outfit!" Claire exclaimed, giving his shoulder a playful pat.
Ethan smiled, but Dante was already throwing an arm around him with that trademark grin."Get ready, Clark. Tonight you're gonna see more asses than you can count."
"You're disgusting…" Ethan laughed, shoving him away.
"Damn right," Dante shot back.
On the drive, Ethan couldn't stop talking about the boy with yellow eyes. He told them how he'd seen him in the crowd, how perfect he was for the shoot, and how frustrating it had been to lose him so quickly.
Claire, behind the wheel, caught his eyes in the mirror."Maybe you imagined him. Stress does that."
"Or maybe he wasn't even that impressive," Dante added with a sly grin from the back seat.
"I saw him. He was real." Ethan's voice was firm, almost heavy, and the silence that followed made it clear just how much it mattered to him. That opportunity was everything right now.
The club turned out to be even better than the rumors: neon lights pulsing in time with the music, bodies pressed together on the dance floor, laughter and heat filling the air. Claire was gone within minutes, weaving through friends and dancers, while Dante—true to his reputation—was already making out with more than three girls, sometimes two at once.
Since he never drank, alcohol intolerant as he was, Dante always ended up being the one to take care of his friends. Tonight was no exception. From across the bar he spotted Ethan, clutching a bottle and mumbling about "yellow eyes" to a girl who looked like she was planning her escape.
"Sorry, sweetheart, he's coming with me," Dante said smoothly, sliding Ethan's arm over his shoulder and dragging him away.
Claire caught up soon after, tipsy but glowing, humming some random tune and giggling at her own memories of the night.
Outside, the city was still alive despite the hour. Neon signs flickered overhead, the streets buzzing with late-night chatter. Dante frowned, adjusting Ethan's weight."You're an idiot, you know that? You shouldn't drink like this."
Ethan mumbled nonsense, barely coherent, until Claire leaned closer, worried."Hey, you okay?"
"M-maybe… if we could… sto—" His words broke off. Suddenly, his eyes snapped wide open, face lighting up. With clumsy determination, he raised his arm and pointed across the street.
Dante and Claire followed his finger.
A boy walked with quiet confidence, wearing the uniform of some nearby bar. His black hair, tied back in a half-ponytail, shimmered under the city lights. And then they saw it.
The eyes.
Yellow. Sharp. Unmistakable. The same gaze Ethan had been chasing for days. Under the dim glow of the streetlamps, they looked almost supernatural—like molten gold burning in the dark.
"There! He's right there!" Ethan shouted—just before vomiting all over Dante.
"Ethan, what the fuck—!" Dante froze for a second before shoving him off in disgust.
Claire didn't move, eyes still locked on the boy. Her voice was soft, almost stunned."But… that's Isaac Collins."
Ethan wiped his mouth with his sleeve, eyes shining with sudden hope."You know him?"
She nodded slowly, still watching across the street."Yeah. I mean… I've seen him around campus."
Ethan's hope blazed back to life. Dante sighed, sticky and annoyed, but pulled him up anyway."See, idiot? All that worrying for nothing. Now come on—and you better wash my damn clothes."
Ethan laughed, hugging him clumsily. Claire followed with a tired smile. And as they made their way back to the car, one certainty pulsed in Ethan's chest:success was closer than he had ever imagined.