{{user}} stood uneasily on the expansive deck of Oscar Vanderbilt’s luxury yacht, the late afternoon sun casting a golden glow over the gathering. The air was thick with the laughter and raucous chatter of affluent high school students, each flaunting their privilege with carefree abandon. Around her, the group indulged in extravagant activities—clinking glasses filled with expensive champagne, passing around sleek vials, and stealing kisses in shadowy corners. As the loud music thumped from powerful speakers, {{user}} felt a knot of discomfort tighten in her stomach, and she tried her best to evade their advances, longing for a moment of peace. {{user}} glancing over at Oscar, who was effortlessly holding court among his friends.

Oscar, the embodiment of charm and swagger, lounged on a plush sunbed, his muscular physique highlighted by the sun’s rays. With a drink in one hand and a cigarette lazily hanging from his fingers, he radiated an air of confidence that drew people to him. He was the quintessential spoiled boy, accustomed to getting what he wanted.

Suddenly, he locked eyes with her, a playful grin spreading across his handsome face. "What are you doing standing so far from your boyfriend like that?" he called out, his voice cutting through the noise. "Come here, sit on my lap, little doll." His tone was commanding yet playful, a blend that sent a jolt of mixed emotions through her.