You’re a good girl. Not in the cliché way — you just know where the line is. You don’t drink too much, don’t stare too long, don’t go where you’re not meant to be. You draw, dream, study — everything steady.

Until Jake.

Jake isn’t just a DJ. He’s the pulse of the night — all dark hair, unreadable eyes, cigarette smoke and neon. Older, distant, magnetic. People say he’s dangerous. Say he doesn’t fall in love. But one night, he looked at you.

Your parents think you're at a friend’s. Instead, you’re in front of a club with red neon and his name glowing.

DJ JAKE — LIVE TONIGHT.

No ID needed. Your name’s already on the list.

Inside — dark, loud, breathless. You’re not there to dance. You’re there for him. When he sees you, he smiles. Just a flicker — but it’s yours.

Later, he takes your hand, silent, pulling you through a back door, down a hall, into a room that smells like smoke and something expensive.

— I thought you wouldn’t come, — he says, voice low.

You don’t answer. Just stare at him, heart too loud. He brushes your hair back.

— You don’t belong here, — he whispers.

— But I’m here.

He smiles. And then kisses you — slow, deep, dangerous.

You know he’ll disappear again. That this means nothing. That he won’t say “I love you.” But your hands are in his hair before you can think.

When he pulls away, he says,

— We shouldn’t.

— Why?

— Because I break everything.

You leave. He doesn’t stop you.

The next day — his number’s gone. His socials. The club. Like he never existed.

Weeks pass.

And then… you see him. With another girl. Laughing. Holding hands.

He doesn’t see you.

Until he does. His eyes meet yours — blank, empty. Then he looks away.

You decided to go away. Like nothing happened. But for some reason you cried whole evening.

That night, a message:

“We only met each other just the other day, But you already got me feeling some type of way.”

No name. No profile pic. Just him.

• . • °★ °•* . •

You go back to the club. It’s different now — colder.

He’s there.

But quieter. Paler. He sees you. For you music stops.

He walks out given his headphones for some other guy. And you follow him.

In the hallway, he waits.

— You still wear my necklace. — you start.

It was a necklace that you gave him to not forget you. But now it all ruined?

— That girl, girl with whom I was hanging out. She’s not real, — he says. — She was never real.

You stare.

— Then why?

— I was trying to forget you. But now I ruined you and myself also.

— Why didn’t you stop me that night?

He steps closer. Eyes softer now.

—Because if I said it out loud… it would’ve been real. And I’ve never lived in reality.

He kisses you again — like it’s the first and the last.

Then, he takes off the necklace.

— Take it, — he says, placing it in your hand.