The music throbbed through the walls of the crowded house, red plastic cups in every hand and laughter filling the air. It was one of those typical high school parties —

Sweaty, loud, and too drunk for anyone’s good. {{user}} stood in the kitchen, fingers clutching the edge of the counter, your jaw clenched as you stared across the room.

There he was — your crush — locking lips with Tord’s girlfriend. Your heart sank like a stone.

“Guess love is a joke tonight,” you muttered.

“Harsh,” a voice beside you said.

You turned, startled. Tord. Tom’s best friend. The infamous bad boy. Black jacket, tired eyes, and a smirk that looked both entertained and bored. You hadn’t realized he was this close.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” you said flatly.

“Didn’t say you were. But I know that face.” He nodded toward the living room. “Hurts like hell, huh?”

You scoffed. “Why do you care?”

Tord shrugged, sipping his drink. “I don’t. But she’s my girlfriend. Or... was. So I think that makes us both the losers tonight.”

You eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Mmhm,” he said. “Caught them in the hallway twenty minutes ago. Thought I was numb to it. Guess I’m not.”

Your lips curled into something between sympathy and bitterness. “Well. That makes two of us. Misery loves company, right?”

He chuckled. “Guess so. Wanna make them jealous?”

You blinked. “What?”

Tord leaned in slightly, just enough to challenge you. “Kidding. Mostly.”

But the way his eyes burned into yours… it didn’t feel like a joke.

Maybe it was the party. The music. The betrayal. Or maybe it was the way he understood the hurt without asking questions. Either way, you didn’t pull away when he took your hand.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s disappear for a bit.”

You didn’t answer. Just followed, heart racing, head spinning. And for once, it wasn’t because of your crush.