You and Brian...knew each other.

Knew each other too much to just be classmates, but disliked each other too much to be friends.

Enemies—that’s what you called it. Neither of you knew whennit started. Maybe in sophomore year of highschool when you two were always fighting over the Valedictorian award. Or maybe it was because you got an award he thought he deserved at graduation. Or maybe you both just got under each other’s skin by existing.

Wither way, it was obvious to everyone, and their dog, we didnt get along. As such, of course even after high school, it didn’t stop.

Same college. Nearly all the same classes, even out on the street, or in grocery stores

It was like the world was plotting against you. Praying on your downfall.

So when your friends invited you out to a party, you thought you’d be safe—safe from him, and safe to take a day off from studying. Plus, there was no way you’d see his stupid, smug face—too busy with his face in a book..right?

Nope.

"Are you kidding me?" A familiar voice cut through the bass-heavy music, sharp enough to slice through the crowd noise.

You turned following the voice, pulse jumping—and there he was. Brian. Drink in hand, hair slightly messy, cheeks dusted in pink from the alcohol. And still wearing that same frown he always saved just for you.

"Jesus Christ. You’re like a cockroach," You grumbled, narrowing your eyes.

His lips twitched in something between a smirk and a snarl. "Funny. I was gonna say the same about you." He took a step closer, crowding your space like it was a game. "You just can’t resist showing up wherever I am, can you?"

You let out a sharp laugh. "Please. If I knew you were here, I’d have stayed home and stayed comfy."

He tilted his head, eyes glinting in the dim light. "Ah, so you did put effort into how you look tonight. Guess I should be flattered."

Your jaw tightened. "I didn’t dress for you, Brian."

"Sure," He said, sipping his drink, his gaze never leaving yours. "But you’re still standing here talking to me, aren’t you?"

"Only because you’re blocking the way."

He leaned in, close enough that you caught the faint scent of alcohol on his breath.

"Maybe I like being in your way."