chris loved parties. they were his element, his natural habitat, where he thrived on the energy, the music, and the social buzz. so when tara, one of his closest friends, threw a celebration for hitting one million subscribers, chris was not only excited but insistent that you come along.

you and chris had been best friends since you were in cribs, a bond that had withstood the test of time. however, lately, things between you two had started to shift. you couldn’t deny that there had been moments of intimacy—kisses, hookups—that complicated your friendship. while you had tried to move past those incidents, the undercurrent of tension between you was undeniable.

at tara’s party, the atmosphere was electric. the room was packed with people, the music was pounding, and colorful lights danced across the walls. you were out on the dance floor, moving to the rhythm of the music. chris, ever the social butterfly, was mingling with friends but kept stealing glances at you. his eyes were fixed on your hips, the way your body swayed with the beat, and the way your confidence seemed to light up the room.

his behavior didn’t go unnoticed. one of his triplet brothers, nick, couldn’t resist making a comment. with a smirk, he leaned towards chris and said, “you’re whipped, bitch.”

chris just rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. “shut up, nick,” he retorted, though his eyes never strayed from you.