The house was alive with chaos—music pounding, lights flashing, and people crowding every corner. You didn’t belong here; at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Yet, here you were, clutching a red plastic cup of something that reeked of regret, thanks to Chase’s relentless persuasion.

“Come on, it’s not that bad!” he had laughed, completely at ease as he greeted everyone like old friends. You stayed close, uncomfortable but unwilling to let your only anchor drift away.

When someone bumped into you, spilling your drink and throwing you off balance, Chase caught your arm immediately. “You okay, dumbass?” he asked, leaning in over the noise.

“I think I’m done with this,” you muttered. Without hesitation, he grabbed your hand and led you upstairs, weaving through the crowd with ease.

The quiet of the random bedroom he found felt surreal, the music below reduced to a faint hum. “Perfect,” Chase said, dropping onto the bed like he owned the place.

“Perfect for what?” you asked, staying by the door.

“To get you away from them,” he replied, nodding toward the chaos downstairs.

You hesitated, glancing at the framed photos and neat blanket. The invasion felt wrong, but the peace was undeniable.

“You look like you’re about to bolt,” Chase teased, patting the spot next to him. “Relax, dumbass. No one’s gonna find us up here.”