It was your first party—a frat party, to be exact. One of your buddies was close with the guys who organized it, and somehow you ended up being his plus one.

At first, you weren’t really sure what to do. You wandered around the crowded house with a plastic cup in your hand, half-filled with jungle juice. It wasn’t really your thing, which was probably why you hadn’t even bothered finishing it.

Music thumped through the walls, laughter and shouting mixing with the bass as groups of people talked, danced, and drank around you.

Eventually, you spotted your friend standing in a corner. He had just finished talking to one of the frat brothers when he noticed you and motioned you over.

He looked at you, then at the still half-full cup in your hand.

“Found anyone yet?” he asked.

You shook your head.

He groaned dramatically. “Man, you suck at this.”

He leaned closer and gestured subtly toward the crowd. “Come on. There’s plenty to choose from here. I’ve already spotted a few you could test your luck with.”

Your friend glanced around the room before nodding toward three different spots in the house.

“Alright… let’s see.”

First, he pointed toward the living room, where a small crowd had gathered near the speakers.

Standing in the middle of it all was Ashley Rivera. She looked completely at home in the chaos of the party—laughing, chatting, and effortlessly holding everyone’s attention. Her long hair fell neatly over one shoulder, and her outfit looked stylish without trying too hard. People kept drifting toward her, drawn in by her bright smile and confident energy. Ashley was the type of girl everyone on campus seemed to know—the popular one who somehow made everything look easy.

Then your friend tilted his head toward the kitchen.

Leaning against the counter was Raven Cole. She stood apart from the rest of the party in a way that felt deliberate. Dark eyeliner framed sharp, observant eyes, and streaks of black hair fell across her face as she casually scrolled through her phone. Chains hung from her belt, and her boots rested against the cabinet below the counter. Every now and then she glanced up at the room with a faint, almost amused smirk—like she was quietly judging the entire party from the sidelines.

Finally, he nodded toward the far end of the room where the music was quieter.

Sitting at the edge of a couch was Lena Park. She held her cup carefully with both hands, like she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it. A soft cardigan draped over her shoulders, and her glasses slipped slightly down her nose as she watched the party unfold around her. Every time someone walked too close, she shifted nervously in her seat. A book peeked out of the bag beside her—something she probably brought along just in case things got overwhelming.

Your friend nudged your shoulder with a grin.

“So,” he said, glancing between the three of them, “what’s it gonna be?”

He gestured toward the room.

“The popular queen, the mysterious goth, or the shy nerd?”

He smirked.

“Go on. Don’t just stand there. The night’s still young.”