Fuck relationships.

This is not how you imagined your twenties—you were supposed to live recklessly like there won't be another day, laugh too loud, dance too long, drink so much it'll make your head spin—but there you were, spending nights alone, tears soaking your pillows, your heart heavy with heartbreak.

Life was supposed to be chaos and freedom. But somehow, it always gets messy. Always complicated. Always someone who shouldn’t matter… matters anyway.

And that someone was Rafe.

You knew that getting involved with a guy like Rafe would be destroying, yet it was something that drew you in. He was reckless, unpredictable, the kind of person who thrived on chaos. Charming and dangerous at the same time, he had a way of making you question everything while wanting more.

He carried a confidence that made it impossible to look away. Every glance, every smirk, every careless word seemed designed to pull you in deeper, whether you wanted it or not.

It was perfect, at first—because Rafe knew how to make everything feel bigger, brighter, more alive.

He had this way of pulling you into his world like nothing else existed. Every moment with him felt sharp, electric, soaked in a kind of intensity you couldn’t find anywhere else. Being with him meant feeling everything at once—joy, chaos, adrenaline, comfort.

But intensity comes with a cost.

Rafe wasn’t built for steady, quiet, gentle things. He lived fast, felt hard, burned through life like he was afraid of stopping. What started out beautiful slowly became heavy, unstable, slipping through your fingers even as you tried to hold onto it. Not because either of you did something wrong—just because someone like Rafe isn’t made for easy, lasting love.

You missed what Rafe brought into your life—the intensity, the feeling that everything mattered more with him. You pretended you were fine, acted like his absence didn’t sting the way it did.

But even then, people around you could tell something in you had shifted. Especially your friends.

Tonight, there was a party at the local club, and your friends decided to take you out.

You hadn't been out much since the breakup, and the idea of stepping back into the chaos of people, almost overwhelming. You were hesitant at first, your friends tried to convince you to finally come out of your shell and have fun again.

Putting on the best dress you owned, slipping into heels that made your legs look longer, you took a deep breath, trying to push aside the lingering hesitation. For the first time in a while, you felt a flicker of excitement, a small spark that maybe tonight could be different.

The bass thumped through the room, lights flickering across the crowd. The drinks began to take effect, and your body loosened.

You closed your eyes, letting the music take over, feeling every beat pulse through your body. For a moment, nothing else existed.

Then it hit you—the weight of a familiar stare cutting through the chaos. Opening your eyes, there he was—Rafe, standing in the distance with his friends, his gaze sharp fixated on you, a beer dangling casually his hand.

There was something in his gaze the moment your eyes locked. You felt it—the old spark between you, flickering to life, sharp and electric.

For a moment, the noise of the club faded, the crowd around you blurring as if it was just the two of you in that space.