Chapter 11

The pulsing lights of the fraternity house swirled before my eyes as I pushed through the crowd, following Jessica's confident stride. The bass vibrated through the floorboards, and the scent of perfume mingled with beer created a dizzying atmosphere I rarely subjected myself to. My heart pounded with anxiety—spaces like this had always made me feel like an outsider. Parties had never been my scene, not in Alabama and certainly not here in California.

"You need this, Lina!" Jessica shouted over the music, handing me a red plastic cup. "After that week at FaunaSphere, we both deserve to let loose!"

I accepted the drink with a grateful nod, scanning the crowded space. A part of me craved the numbness alcohol would bring, a temporary respite from the emotional whiplash of recent weeks. That's when I saw him—Ara, his arms wrapped around a blonde's waist, his lips whispering something in her ear that made her giggle. My stomach twisted into knots, betrayal radiating through my chest. Just yesterday at work, he'd cornered me in the company, his golden eyes intense as he'd brushed a strand of hair from my face, making promises with his gaze he apparently had no intention of keeping.

Watching him with another woman, I felt foolish and naive. How many times would I allow myself to be pulled into their orbit, believing I was special, only to be reminded I was just another conquest? The humiliation burned beneath my skin, making me feel transparent—as if everyone could see my wounded heart.

"Forget him," Jessica advised, following my line of sight. "Loose time now, don’t let anything ruin your mood."

"You're right," I muttered, tipping my cup back and letting the sickly-sweet liquid burn down my throat. The artificial cherry flavor barely masked the strong alcohol beneath. Each swallow was a small act of defiance against my own vulnerability. "I need another."

As the night progressed, the music grew louder, the room spun faster, and my inhibitions dissolved cup by cup. The edges of my pain began to blur, replaced by a floating sensation that was almost pleasant. In this state, Ara's betrayal felt distant, less personal. My usual overthinking quieted, replaced by a reckless freedom I rarely allowed myself.

Clara and Scarlett found us on the makeshift dance floor, their concerned glances at my unusual behavior silenced by Jessica's quiet explanation. I caught fragments of their whispered conversation—words like "careful" and "not herself"—but deliberately tuned them out. Tonight, I didn't want to be careful, reasonable Lina. I wanted to be someone who couldn't be hurt so easily.

"Someone's enjoying herself tonight," a smooth voice commented behind me. I turned to find a tall stranger with hazel eyes and a disarming smile.

"And you are?" I asked, the alcohol making me bolder than usual.

"Just a guy who couldn't help noticing you," the man replied, his confidence unwavering.

"Lina," I offered, noting how his gaze lingered appreciatively on me. Unlike Ara's hot-and-cold behavior, this man's attention felt straightforward, uncomplicated. In his eyes, I could be anyone—the wild, carefree girl I was pretending to be tonight.

"Can I get you another drink?" he offered, gesturing to my empty cup.

Jessica shot me a warning look, but I ignored her. My rational mind registered her concern from a distance, but the louder voice inside—fueled by hurt and alcohol—urged me forward. "Absolutely."

The man guided me through the crowd, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. From across the room, I caught Ara watching us, his expression darkening when the man leaned close to whisper in my ear. Vindictive satisfaction bloomed in my chest. Good. Let him see what he was missing. Let him feel a fraction of the jealousy consuming me.

"Special mix," the man said, handing me a fresh drink that tasted stronger than the previous ones. "My own recipe."

The liquor hit differently this time, making the room tilt alarmingly. A distant warning flashed in my mind, quickly drowned by the alcohol flooding my system. The man steadied me with an arm around my waist, his touch lingering. Through my haze, I recognized something predatory in his gaze but chose to interpret it as desire.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured, his breath hot against my neck. "I've been watching you all night."

Under normal circumstances, his intensity might have unnerved me, but the alcohol had stripped away my caution. All I knew was that someone wanted me—clearly and openly—unlike the brothers who played their mysterious games. Being desired so straightforwardly felt like a balm to my wounded pride.

"Dance with me," I suggested, pulling him toward the center of the room. The music pulsed through me, and I let my body move freely, existing purely in sensation rather than thought.

As we moved to the rhythm, the man kept supplying fresh drinks. My thoughts became fragmented, memories colliding in a disjointed kaleidoscope. Through my haze, I noticed Jessica trying to catch my eye, but the man kept turning me away.

"I think you've had enough," Jessica attempted to intervene, reaching for my cup. Her voice sounded distant, as if underwater.

"She's fine," the man insisted, annoyance flashing across his features. "We're just having fun, aren't we, Lina?"

My tongue felt too heavy to form words properly, but I nodded, ignoring the concerned looks from Clara and Scarlett. The room was spinning now, faces blurring as the music pounded painfully in my head. I was losing time, moments disappearing into black holes of memory. Fear began penetrating the fog—this wasn't fun anymore.

"Let's get some air," the man suggested, leading me toward the exit. I stumbled, leaning heavily against him. My limbs felt disconnected from my body, responding seconds after I commanded them to move.

The cool night air hit my face, momentarily clearing my mind. Reality rushed back—I was too drunk, too vulnerable, too far from safety. "My friends—" I started, panic rising in my throat.

"They know you're with me," the man assured, his grip tightening around my waist. "My car's just over here."

Something about his tone triggered a warning bell. The façade of charm had slipped, revealing something cold beneath. I struggled to process this through my intoxication. "I should tell Jessica—"

"Later," he insisted, practically dragging me now. "I want to show you something first."

The world tilted dangerously as I found myself being hauled toward a darkened vehicle. Through my intoxicated haze, panic rose with a surge of adrenaline. Memories of my mother’s safety talks flashed through my mind—never leave your drink unattended, never go off alone with a stranger. All the rules I'd broken to numb the pain of Ara's rejection.

"No," I managed, trying to pull away. "I want to go back inside."

The man's charming facade slipped completely, his grip becoming bruising. "Don't be like that. We were having fun."

"Let me go," I slurred, struggling weakly. Fear crystallized into terror as I realized how vulnerable I was—alone, intoxicated, at the mercy of a stranger whose name I couldn't even remember.

"After all those drinks I bought you?" he sneered, forcing me against his car. "Come on, Lina. You've been teasing me all night."

Terror pierced through the alcoholic fog as his hands roughly grabbed at my clothes. I tried to scream, but my voice came out as little more than a whimper. The man's hand covered my mouth as he fumbled with the car door. I hated myself for my naivety, for thinking I could play at being reckless without consequences. Behind closed eyelids, I saw Ara's face, Jessica's warning glance, and wondered if I would ever get the chance to tell them they were right.