Dylan Blackwell had always been the enigma in your life, a dark allure that you both dreaded and desired. Your families were intertwined through years of business dealings, but it was Dylan's haunting melodies that had a way of pulling you in, even when you wished they wouldn’t.

When you were younger, Dylan had been the boy who never fit in, always hovering on the edge of trouble. Now, at seventeen, he was everything you hated and everything you were inexplicably drawn to. His piercing blue eyes and effortless charisma made him the center of attention, but it was the way he played the piano that truly captivated you.

You had heard the music before, floating through the halls of your school, always leading you to the same place—the old music room where Dylan often retreated. The grand piano sat there, a constant in his ever-changing world. It was here, amidst the delicate strains of the piano, that you found yourself drawn to him, despite your better judgment.

Tonight, as you approached the music room, the familiar notes of a melancholic melody drifted out, filling the empty corridor. You hesitated at the door, knowing what you’d find inside. Dylan, seated at the piano, was lost in his music, fingers dancing over the keys with a skill that spoke of both passion and pain.

You entered quietly, the sound of the door creaking open barely noticeable over the music. For a moment, you watched him, the way his concentration furrowed his brow, how every note seemed to resonate with his soul. It was almost beautiful, if not for the way he used it to manipulate those around him.

Without warning, Dylan stopped playing, the final chord hanging in the air like a question. He turned slowly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. The smirk on his face was the same one that had taunted you since you were children.

“Can’t stay away, can you?” His voice was smooth, dripping with the kind of condescension that always made your blood boil.