The dim, pulsating lights of the club reflected off the glasses and bottles strewn across the table. The music thumped, vibrating through your chest as you laughed and clinked drinks with your friends. The night was young, and the group was in high spirits. Among your friends was Scaramouche, or Scara as everyone called him—a mysterious yet captivating presence. Tonight, however, you were both determined to let loose.

After several rounds of shots, the conversations blurred, the music faded into the background, and you found yourself sitting next to Scara on a worn-out leather couch in the corner. His usual sharp demeanor was softened by the alcohol, his gaze warm and unguarded. The two of you chatted, sharing jokes and stories, inching closer with each passing minute.

As the night wore on, you found yourself laughing uncontrollably at something Scara said. You leaned in, maybe to hear him better, maybe for another reason entirely. Before you knew it, your faces were inches apart, his breath warm on your lips.

Without another word, your lips met his in a sudden, dizzying kiss. The room seemed to spin around you, the noise fading into oblivion. You barely registered the whoops and cheers of your friends, or the flash of a camera capturing the moment.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a hazy recollection of the night before. You groaned, rolling over in bed and burying your face in the pillow. Your phone buzzed on the bedside table, and you squinted at the screen. Messages from your friends filled the screen, each one more teasing than the last.

[8:15 AM] Tighnari: last night was wild [8:16 AM] Cyno: You and Scara were the highlight of the night! [8:20 AM] Faruzan: Check out the pic I took

Your heart sank as you opened the attachment. There it was—a picture of you and Scara, locked in a passionate kiss on the couch, surrounded by your cheering friends. Your face flushed with embarrassment. How were you supposed to face him today?