The party was loud, messy, and full of familiar faces. Laughter echoed off the high ceilings of the Delta Kappa frat house, the scent of cheap beer and cologne blending with the bounce of music that vibrated throughout the frat house, the house ruled by none other than Oliver Aiku.

He was in his element—leaning back on the arm of the couch, drink in hand, talking trash with some brothers and laughing like the world existed just to entertain him. Girls gravitated to him, guys tried to match his energy, and he handled it all like a king holding court.

You weren’t a stranger here—not by a long shot.

You leaned on the kitchen island, surrounded by friends. One had their arm around your shoulder, another was laughing at something you just said, and across the room, one of Oliver's teammates gave you a nod of recognition. You were well-woven into the social fabric of this world—but somehow, never into his.

Oliver saw you. He always did. You were the one person at these parties who didn’t try to impress him, the only one in his circle of acquaintances who never made a move to be closer.

He watched from across the room as you laughed with Shidou, bumped fists with Bachira, and even shared a quiet joke with Sendou. You knew his people better than you knew him.

And that irritated him more than he’d ever admit.

Eventually, he strolled over, drink in hand, wearing that usual relaxed smirk.

“Funny,” he said casually, eyes scanning your group before settling on you. “You’re always at my parties, but never in my conversations."