Zara
Why did I always manage to be late? Seriously, why? It was like the universe had put a neon target on my forehead that said: "Disaster walks here." My backpack swung wildly as I ran down the slick streets, strap digging into my shoulder, scarf half-off, shoes squelching in puddles. I tripped over a curb and almost fell face-first into a pile of trash bags. Someone somewhere probably laughed. Hope Ethan wasn't watching. No. Hope he was. Ugh, brain, stop. Just stop.
My phone buzzed. Of course. The system. My chest tightened. Fingers fumbling. Nearly dropped it into the puddle I'd just avoided.
**SYSTEM ALERT — TASK UNLOCKED**
*Engage the person who annoys you most today.*
Reward: Unknown.
Yeah. Ethan Drake. Smug, infuriating, chaos-walking Ethan Drake. My stomach twisted. My feet kept moving. Why do I do this to myself?
By the time I reached the practice field, he was already there. Leaning against the bleachers, arms crossed, hair wet but perfect, smirk firmly in place. My chest betrayed me. I tried to act annoyed. Failed. Instantly. I was looking at him.
"You're late," he said, voice low, teasing, dangerous.
"Traffic," I muttered. Classic excuse. Too obvious.
He raised an eyebrow. "Sidewalks again?"
"Yes. Sidewalks," I muttered under my breath. Shoelaces untied. Scarf twisted. Backpack strap slipping. Fantastic.
His smirk widened. Infuriating. I wanted to punch him, laugh, cry, everything at once. My bag twisted around my arm. I yanked it off and nearly hit a bench. Shoes squeaked on wet concrete.
**SYSTEM ALERT — Task Progress: 10%**
Tracking humiliation in percentages. Perfect.
We circled each other like cats. Not friends. Not enemies exactly. Just aware. Every brush of his arm sent sparks up my chest. Every glance felt like a test. Brain short-circuited. Wanted to look away. Couldn't.
"Romance Meter +1," the system buzzed.
I glared at it like it had personally betrayed me. Ethan noticed.
"What's that?"
"Nothing," I lied. Obvious lie.
He tilted his head. "Flustered?"
"Maybe," I admitted. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Phone buzzed. **Next task unlocked: Midnight City Challenge.**
Alone with him. In the city. Midnight. Hands shaking. Heart racing. Groaning. Walking anyway. Masochism apparently was my hobby.
The city was alive. Neon bouncing off wet asphalt. Puddles reflecting colors like broken mirrors. Taxis honking. Music spilling from bars. Someone yelling. A stray dog darted across the street, barking. I tripped over a puddle. Ethan caught my elbow. Sparks. Again. I felt butterflies in my stomach.
"Careful," he said, tone low, not teasing.
"Ugh, thanks," I muttered.
Alley. Shadows stretched. System buzzed again. **Task in progress.**
Ethan leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Not too close. Not too far. Perfectly annoying.
"So… what now?" I asked, casual? Failing miserably.
"We see what happens," he said. Smirk soft, still smug.
Cursed under my breath. Hair plastered, scarf twisted, shoelaces tangled, puddles mocking me. Brain short-circuited.
We walked. Neon reflected like shattered mirrors. Bag slipped off shoulder again. Bent down. Hands brushed. Sparks. Chest betrayed me. Brain fried.
"Careful," he repeated. Voice different. Almost human.
City smelled like wet asphalt, fried food, sugar, something I couldn't name. Brain tried distractions. Netflix. Coffee. Bank account. Twelve dollars thirty-seven cents. Awesome. Totally useless.
"I hate this system," I muttered.
"Which part?"
"All of it. Tasks. Measuring. Everything." Kicked a puddle. Water soaked shoes. Fantastic. Socks ruined. Umbrella useless.
He didn't answer. Just looked. Stomach somersaulted. Hated him. Hated that look.
"Maybe it's not the system you hate," he said finally.
"What?"
"What it makes you feel."
Wanted to deny it. Couldn't.
Trash can lid banged. Car backfired. Someone shouted. Flinched. Ethan smirked. Of course he did.
Shoes soaked. Hair plastered. Breathing uneven. Hands wet. Bag slipping. Sparks. Brain fried.
"Are we… working together?" I asked. Trying casual. Failing.
"If you want to survive twenty-four hours? Yeah we are then," he said.
Groaned. "Video game life. No pause buttons."
"Pause buttons are boring anyway," he said. Quieter: "You'll survive. Probably don't worry."
That probably. Chest tightening. Brain screaming. Heart agreeing.
End of alley. Streetlights flickered. Shadows moved. Everything alive. Or tension.
Paper bag blew across our feet. Wind gusted, pulling hair into eyes. Swatted it. Tripped slightly. Ethan caught me. I felt the sparks. Again.
Phone buzzed. **SYSTEM TIP: Trust no one… except maybe the system.**
Groan. Ethan smirked. "Ready?"
Bit lip. Brain screaming. Heart agreeing.
City waited. Me. Ethan. System. Chaos. Sparks. Tasks. Messes. Shoes soaked. Hair wet. Heart thundering.
Siren wailed. Neon flickered. Umbrella strap broke. Socks soaked. Fingers numb. Brain screaming. Hands shaking. Ethan calm. Smirking. Infuriatingly perfect. It was everything i had not desired in my life.
Deep down, knew the real challenge wasn't surviving the night. Surviving him.
Midnight City Challenge begins. And no idea if I'll survive… or even want to.
I ran. My feet slapped the wet asphalt. Neon lights cutting through fog. Heart pounding. System buzzing: **Task Progress 20%.**
Every step chaotic. Shoes squelching. Hair wet. Fingers numb. Hands shaking. Brain fried. Thoughts scattered.
Ethan beside me. Smirk in place. Calm. Annoying. Perfect.
"Watch your step," he said.
"I know," I snapped. Too loud. Too high. Stupid.
We turned a corner. Garbage can tipped over. Rats scattering. My scream escaped. Ethan laughed. Infuriating.
"Stop laughing," I muttered.
"Never," he said. Smirk widening.
Rain poured harder. Cold biting through wet clothes. Socks soaked. Shoes ruined. Bag sliding. My phone buzzed: **Next task unlocked: "City Rooftop Escape."**
Rooftop? At midnight? Alone with him? Heart sank. Brain fried. Hands shaking. Feet slipping. Shoes squelching.
I groaned. "Great. Just great."
He leaned closer. "You'll survive. Probably."
I groaned again. Probably? No. Absolutely not.
The neon city reflected in puddles. Steam rising from manholes. Sirens wailing. Chaos everywhere. Perfect. Absolutely perfect for a disaster like me.
And Ethan, calm, smirking, infuriatingly perfect.
Somewhere deep down, I knew the next task wouldn't just test me. It would test him. And me. And probably destroy both of us.
Midnight City Challenge continues. And I had no idea if I'd survive… or if I even wanted to.