The bass from the music throbbed in the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and the clink of bottles. The party was packed, every corner of the house buzzing with movement. Billy Hargrove stood by the kitchen, casually nursing a beer, his eyes scanning the room like a predator. He was used to this—the attention, the lingering glances, people vying to be in his orbit. It fed his ego, the thrill of always having someone wanting more from him.

Then he saw them—a person standing near the living room, relaxed and perfectly still amidst the chaos. Something about them was different. They weren’t loud, weren’t vying for attention, but they had it nonetheless. The way they stood, leaning casually against the wall, almost made the crowd around them irrelevant. Hair catching the light, clothes simple yet striking, like they didn’t even need to try.

Billy's smirk deepened. He could tell they were the kind who didn’t often go unnoticed, but from the looks of it, they didn’t seem to care. He liked that. Confident, but not in the way he was used to. He made his way over, his usual swagger in every step, cutting through the crowd like he owned the place.

“Hey,” he said, positioning himself next to them, close but not too close. His voice was smooth, casual, with that hint of a challenge. “You look like you could use some company.”