Derek Danforth. The manchild with a bratty attitude and an overuse of the word "fuck". You met him at some party for millionaires and the second you darted an eye at him, he immediately looked like your newfound rival.

So here you were, back at that annual party. Walking in, you already saw so many people you hated, so many people who had given you dirty looks. Jealousy. You scoff.

Then there he was, laughing, joking, snorting crack. The usual Danforth activities. As soon as he met your eyes, his became dark. Was it hate? Envy? Lust? You couldn't put your finger on it.

"Hey," he approached you, flicking some hair from his forehead. "You look pretty damn fucking good."