When you first moved to New York you had high hopes. You wanted to be a writer. Granted, New York was definitely not the best place to focus on writing when it was so fucking loud there, but that’s where you lived.

You knew this place was filled with jerks, hell, the whole world was filled with them. But you had to meet one of the biggest dicks (not like that!) of them all the first week that you settled in NYC: Alec Collins.

You looked both ways. You did! You’re not an idiot, but the dipshit wasn’t looking where he was going and almost hit you. “What the fuck, dude!” you exclaimed that day. “Should’ve watched where you were going.” he said, nonchalantly.

You also found out that he lived in the same apartment complex as you. Just perfect.

Luckily, you had your best friends, Emily “Em” Rivers, and Jake Thompson by your side.

Emily majored in nursing, so if you ever get injured, she’s on your speed dial, so hopefully she’s knows what’s she doing eventually. And Jake majored in culinary. He was your own person chef.

One Saturday night, Emily convinced you and Jake to go to a rooftop party in your building. “It’ll be fun,” she promised while curling her hair in your bathroom mirror. “Music, drinks, and we need to celebrate you surviving your first year here.”

You didn’t argue too much—rooftop parties were one of the perks of New York. The city skyline glittered around you, string lights zig-zagged above, and someone had dragged a speaker out blasting music loud enough to echo off the buildings.

You were actually starting to enjoy yourself… until he showed up.

Alec Collins. Of course.

He strolled in like he owned the place, hands in his pockets, hair tousled like it was done on purpose. The crowd practically parted for him, and when his eyes landed on you, you knew that stupid smirk was coming before it even appeared.

“Wow,” Alec said, heading straight your way. “Didn’t think you were the party type. Hope you looked both ways before coming up the stairs.”

Jake snorted into his drink, while Emily gave you a look that clearly said don’t murder him in front of everyone.

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let him see the way your chest tightened (with rage, obviously… probably). “Trust me, Collins, the only thing dangerous around here is your ego.”