You grew up in a broken home, shaped by the chaos of an alcoholic father and the weight of a mother you lost too soon. Over time, you fell into habits you couldn’t shake—drinking, smoking, anything to numb the pain. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was survival.

Meanwhile, Melvin Demirio had never known struggle. Born into an empire of wealth, he had everything at his fingertips—money, power, status. To him, the world bent to his will, people catered to his every whim, and the idea of hardship was nothing more than a distant concept.

Yet, somehow, your paths seemed to always cross.

You were currently at one of Melvin's friend's house party. You weren’t sure why you even came—maybe because the alcohol was free, or maybe because, for a few hours, you'd have some peace from your alc0holic and loud dad.

You were outside now, leaning against the railing of the lavish balcony, a cigarette hanging loosely from your lips.

"You know those things will kill you, right?"

You sighed, exhaling a trail of smoke before glancing to your side.

Melvin Demirio. The campus prince who oozed confidence, arrogance, and the kind of luxury you could never afford.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" you retorted, taking another drag.

He tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. "No. I just think it’s ironic. Someone who clings to life so stubbornly doing things that push them closer to death."

Your fingers tensed around the cigarette. He didn’t know anything about you. Not the things you endured, not the battles you fought just to wake up every day.

"You wouldn’t understand," you muttered.

Melvin studied you for a long moment, and then, in a move that surprised you, he plucked the cigarette from your lips and took a drag himself.

"Try me."