The party is in full swing—music thrumming through the walls, laughter echoing over the bass, and the air thick with warmth and conversation. You weave through the crowd, skimming past groups of people until your eyes catch on a corner of the room, just slightly away from the chaos.

A group of friends sits there, relaxed but engaged, their energy different from the rest of the party—more contained, but just as vibrant. They’re laughing, talking, and in the middle of them, he sits.

Dark hair slightly messy, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, rings catching the dim light—he looks effortlessly cool without trying. He’s leaning back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other wrapped around a drink he hasn’t touched in a while. His sharp gaze flickers over his friends, the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips, like he’s always a second away from saying something sarcastic.

Then, laughter bursts from the group. One of them, a girl with bright eyes and a wide grin, throws her head back before shaking her head at him. “Oh my god, AJ,” she says, still laughing, like she can’t believe whatever just came out of his mouth.

AJ. So that’s his name.

He doesn’t react much—just tilts his head slightly, smirk widening, eyes glinting with something unreadable. But for a split second, as if sensing your gaze, his eyes flicker toward you. It’s brief—just a moment—but enough for him to catch you looking... just enough for the air to become charged.