Michael's POV
The bass hit me before I even reached the porch. It wasn't music anymore—it was a vibration, shaking the ground beneath my sneakers, rattling in my chest. The house looked like it might explode, every window glowing with strobe lights, silhouettes moving like shadows behind the blinds.
Inside, it was chaos.
The living room looked like it belonged in an architecture magazine—vaulted ceilings, polished wood floors, chandeliers swinging with the rhythm of the crowd. But instead of study groups or polite mixers like I'd pictured Ivy League kids having, the place was wild. Red Solo cups covered every flat surface. A DJ had hijacked a baby grand piano and turned it into a booth, blasting remixes so loud you couldn't think straight.
Charles disappeared into the crowd like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life, high-fiving strangers, shouting over the music. I hung back, trying to take it all in.
Students were everywhere—laughing, yelling, dancing. Sorority girls in glitter heels balanced on coffee tables, their hair sparkling under the lights. Guys in varsity jackets shoved each other near the beer pong table. A group in pressed blazers debated internships by the fireplace like it was a boardroom instead of a party. Old money privilege and college recklessness, smashed together into one insane scene.
I tried to blend in, moving carefully through the room. Someone shoved a drink into my hand before disappearing into the sea of bodies. I didn't even know what it was.
For a second, I thought maybe I'd made a mistake coming here. But then the beat hooked me—the whole house pulsed like it had a heartbeat.
Suddenly, the music cut. The DJ's voice roared through the speakers:
"Ladies and gentlemen, freshmen and legends, give it up for the man himself—the organizer, the billionaire, the king of the night—David Da King Jr.!"
The crowd erupted.
I scoffed under my breath. Typical. What a show-off. Not to brag, but I honestly didn't get the hype. Sure, he was rich, a model, the golden boy everyone drooled over. But me? I couldn't help thinking I was better than him. Girls just never seemed to notice guys like me when guys like him were around.
I exhaled, gripping my cup tighter.
This was my first Ivy League party.
My first night of freedom.
And for the first time since arriving, I wondered—was I ready to belong here?
"Hey—watch where you're going!"
The voice hit me like a jolt. I turned too fast, and the drink slipped from my hand, splashing across the dress of the girl standing in front of me.
"Shit!" she gasped. "You ruined my dress!"
And then I froze.
It was her. The girl. More stunning up close than I'd even imagined. She looked like she'd stepped straight out of another world, a mermaid in human skin—green eyes sharp and alive, blonde hair falling in waves, lips so perfect my brain short-circuited.
"Apologize!" one of her friends snapped, glaring at me.
"I—uh—didn't mean—" I stuttered.
"Cat got your tongue?" another friend teased, smirking.
Heat rushed to my face. I scratched my head, trying to laugh it off, but nothing came out right.
"It's okay," she said suddenly, her voice soft, almost kind. She smiled, revealing a dimple on her left cheek.
I swear, my chest stopped working for a second.
I opened my mouth to say something smooth, something unforgettable. Instead, all that came out was—
"Wow."
Her friend rolled her eyes. "That's it? 'Wow'? You ruin her gown and that's what you've got?"
"I—I'm sorry. I'll get something to clean it," I mumbled, retreating before I embarrassed myself more.
I pushed through the crowd, searching desperately.
"Yo, where you running to?" Charles appeared out of nowhere, grinning. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Nothing," I muttered. "It's… it's the girl from earlier."
"Who?"
"The one I saw when I first moved in."
"Ohhh. Your crush." He smirked.
"She's not my crush," I shot back, but my ears burned. "I just… spilled my drink on her."
Charles doubled over laughing. "You spilled your drink on her? Bro, that's hilarious. So why are you running instead of apologizing?"
"I wasn't running. I was looking for something to clean it with," I said defensively.
Charles raised an eyebrow, then reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded white handkerchief. "You mean… like this?"
I groaned, realizing I'd had it the whole time.
"Damn. Thanks, man," I muttered, snatching it back.
And with my heart racing, I turned toward the crowd again—ready to face her, to fix what I'd messed up, and maybe, just maybe, not blow my one chance.
---
Mary's POV
We pushed through the crowd, and I quickly realized everyone's attention was locked on something—or someone. The DJ's voice boomed over the speakers, hyping up a name I couldn't quite catch. All I knew was the room erupted, people cheering like celebrities had just walked in.
I hated it immediately.
As we weaved between bodies, I felt eyes turning my way, whispers trailing behind me. My stomach knotted. This was why I never came to parties. I didn't like attention, didn't like feeling like the spotlight was on me. I just wanted the floor to swallow me whole.
"Mary, come on!" Ella shouted over her shoulder, already ahead with Claire.
I hurried to catch up, but the crowd pressed in tighter. My nerves spiked, and when someone stepped back into me, I snapped before I could stop myself.
"Hey—watch where you're going!"
He turned too fast, bumping into me, and the drink in his hand splashed straight across my dress.
"Shit!" I gasped, staring at the stain spreading over the fabric. "You ruined my dress!"
He froze, eyes locked on me like he'd forgotten how to speak. My body tensed—I wanted to yell, to curse him out—but something in his face made me pause.
"Apologize!" Claire barked, glaring at him.
"I—I didn't mean—" he stuttered, tripping over the words.
"Cat got your tongue?" Ella teased, smirking.
And then, for a split second, I really saw him.
He wasn't just handsome—he was… breathtaking. Too perfect to call just "handsome." Beautiful, in a way men usually aren't. Like someone had mixed every flavor of attraction into one person and wrapped it in messy nerves. My eyes lingered longer than they should have, and when he chuckled nervously, I realized—I'd been staring. Drooling.
I snapped back, forcing composure.
"It's okay," I muttered, softening the moment.
"Wow," he breathed, as if it was all he could manage.
My lips curved before I caught myself, a smile tugging despite the mess.
"That's it?" Claire growled. "You ruin her gown and that's what you've got?"
He flinched, mumbling, "I—I'm sorry. I'll get something to clean it," before retreating into the crowd like he couldn't escape fast enough.
"You guys are mean," I sighed, shaking my head.
"Please," Claire scoffed. "He doesn't deserve our good side."
"Yeah," Ella chimed in. "Total weirdo."
But I wasn't so sure.
After a while, Ella nudged me. "Don't tell me you're actually waiting for him to come back."
I frowned, pouting at the stain on my dress. "I mean… how else do I deal with this?"
"Forget him. Let's find a security guard, get you to a restroom."
Claire nodded. "Yeah, you two go ahead. I'll step outside and call Jane real quick."
The guard was kind enough to point me toward the bathrooms. Ella stayed outside while I slipped in to fix the mess. After scrubbing at the stain until it faded, I stepped back into the hallway—only to bump into a solid chest.
"Oh my God—again?" I muttered, my patience thinning.
"You're too beautiful to be running into people like that," a voice said smoothly. He held out a handkerchief like it was a grand gesture.
I blinked up at him..
"You are unbelievable," I shot back, irritation sharpening every word.
"Really? That's all you've got?" He smirked. "After bumping into me?"
"You spilled on me first," I said firmly. "Maybe you should be the one apologizing."
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "No, gorgeous. We bumped into each other. So technically… we both should."
My jaw clenched. "You're a joke. A boring joke."
His grin widened. "No, I'm David Da King. And you…" his eyes dragged over me, "…are gorgeous." He closed the space between us.
My mind screamed arrogant. Annoying. Stupid. Sure, he was good-looking, but what did that matter? He was—
"Handsome," he echoed suddenly, like he'd plucked the thought straight out of my head.
My eyes widened. Had I said that out loud?
"Don't worry, gorgeous," he murmured, smirking. "I didn't hear much. Just you calling me handsome."
I scoffed, turning away. "In your dreams."
But before I could escape, his hand caught mine and pulled me back—too quick, too bold.
And then his lips were on mine.
—
David POV
"Ladies and gentlemen, freshmen and legends, give it up for the man himself—the organizer, the billionaire, the king of the night—David Da King Jr.!"
The crowd erupted, I waved at them , my eyes waves around the crowd like wind , probably searching for the girl from earlier but for some reason it landed on the most beautiful lady I have ever seen, the crowd parted ways for her as she makes her way in, everyone glanced and whispers, the light seems to radiate while it casts it glance on her , who is she , I muttered
Who? , John my friend asked, tracing my eyes
There i replied pointing towards the girl, while still not breaking my stare at her as if she would be lost in the crowd if I ever do
Wow" she is breaktaken John replied
Yeah, be right back, I said getting up from my sit and making my ways towards her.
, from the look of things it looks like the guy had spilled his drinks on her , I noticed the guy ran off like he is being chased by the police
After what seems like some minutes, I noticed the girl head towards one of the security guards , and I still followed but waited just outside the restroom passage, immediately she stepped out, I tried closing in on the gap, causing us to bump into each other
"Oh my God—again?" she muttered, I noticed her patience thinning.
"You're too beautiful to be running into people like that," I said teasingly while offering . I held out a handkerchief ,
She blinked up at me..
"You are unbelievable," she shot back, irritation sharpening every word.
"Really? That's all you've got?" I smirked. "After bumping into me?"
"You spilled on me first," she said firmly. "Maybe you should be the one apologizing."
Feisty I thought
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. "No, gorgeous. We bumped into each other. So technically… we both should."
My jaw clenched. "You're a joke. A boring joke."
Disappointed, she is the first person to ever not find me interesting, in fact the first to call me a joke, but still I found her interesting, grin widened. "No, I'm David Da King. And you…" I said, dragging my eyes over her, "…are"…are gorgeous."
Handsome, I think I heard her muttered, I might be wrong after all I smiled mischievously
Handsome I replied, her eyes widened like she has been caught in an act, i couldn't help but love her reaction more
Don't worry, gorgeous," I murmured, smirking. "I didn't hear much. Just you calling me handsome."
She scoffed, turning away. "In your dreams
But before she could escape, my hand caught hers and pulled her back—too quick, my grip tight, I wasn't going to allow her escape me tonight, not without having a taste of that strawberry lips,
And then I placed my lips on hers, savoring the soft tender skin. She tasted like strawberry, causing me to deepen the kiss without even waiting for her to reciprocate.