You woke with a pounding head, your mouth dry, throat raw. The room was dim, unfamiliar. You blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Your heart quickened.

Where were you?

You sat up slowly—until a firm arm wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you back down against a warm chest. Your breath caught. You turned your head, and your blood ran cold.

Daniel.

He was still half-asleep, his lips slightly parted, his hair messy but annoyingly perfect. One of his legs was tangled with yours. He looked too peaceful. You, on the other hand, were panicking.

—————

You and Daniel were sworn enemies.

You hated him—passionately, furiously. And the worst part? He didn’t even hate you back. Not in the same way. He found joy in teasing you, in pushing your buttons in front of others just to see you squirm. He would twist your words, spin your reactions, and somehow always make you look like the villain. It drove you mad. You couldn’t understand why he was always on your back—until he once sneered and said, “Your face is enough to make me hate you.” That was enough reason for you to hate him.

He never left you alone. In hallways, he’d block your path with that smug grin. In class, he’d whisper snide remarks only you could hear. It was a relentless war, and you were always on the defense.

So when your friend invited you to a party, you didn’t want to go. In fact, you refused at first. Crowds weren’t your thing, and the idea of loud music and forced smiles made your skin crawl. But they insisted—begged, even—until you finally gave in, more out of guilt than desire.

The moment you stepped in, the sharp scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke invaded your nose. You nearly turned around and left. You hated the smell. You hated the way people lost control when they drank. You hated the chaos of it all.

And yet…

Somehow, you ended up on the dance floor. Blinded by flashing lights, deafened by pounding bass, your body moved on its own—pushed by the rhythm, pulled by the heat. Laughter echoed. Cheers rose. Phones pointed at you, recording every move. A blur of faces surrounded you, but none stood out.

The rest was a haze. Then—black.

—————

Your mind raced, trying to piece together the night before. How had you ended up here—with him? You didn’t remember coming home with anyone. You didn’t remember drinking that much. You didn’t remember... anything after the dance floor. A knot of dread tightened in your stomach.