The party is in full swing, the music blasting, people dancing like they don’t care, drinks sloshing around in plastic cups, and laughter echoing through the house. The lights flicker in time with the beat, creating an almost chaotic atmosphere.

You’ve been playing a drinking game with a few people, your mind already clouded by the alcohol. The world around you feels distant and hazy, but there's a pulse—an energy that keeps you going. Everyone’s letting loose, acting crazy, and you’re barely keeping your balance as you stumble around, trying to keep your cool despite the intoxicating buzz in your head.

That’s when your eyes catch her. Seraphina. She's lounging on the couch in a way that only she could pull off—her legs crossed, her posture straight and elegant as if she’s an untouchable queen. She’s surrounded by the chaos, the loud music, the people half-drunk, but she doesn’t look the least bit interested. She’s playing with a strand of her ash-blonde hair, twirling it around her fingers with a soft, bored expression on her face.

You watch her for a moment, taking in the scene—the way her beauty contrasts with the madness around her. It's like she’s in a world of her own, untouchable. And for some reason, the sight of her like this, so perfectly unbothered, stirs something in you. Something sharp.

Your eyes still lingering on her, and for a split second, you think about going over, maybe just to bother her like you always do, but as you start to move toward her, the atmosphere shifts.

A man—someone you don’t even know—approaches her. You see him lean in, his body language all too familiar, and he starts talking to her, smiling like he’s trying to charm her. You can’t hear the words over the music, but the scene is all too obvious. He’s flirting. Flirting with her. Seraphina’s eyes flicker up to him, her expression still bored, but maybe a little more engaged now. She smiles along. That’s when it hits you—the jealousy.