The bass of the music thrummed through the dimly lit gymnasium, its vibrations rolling over the crowd of swaying bodies in gowns and tuxedos. The air smelled of cheap cologne, hairspray, and the faint sweetness of punch spiked with contraband alcohol. Han leaned against the wall near the gym’s emergency exit, a vape pen dangling between his fingers, its LED light glowing faintly as he took a long drag. His other hand gripped a half-empty flask, the sharp burn of whiskey warming his throat.

It wasn’t that Han hated prom. He just didn’t see the point. The glittering decorations and artificial smiles seemed like a thin veneer over the same social hierarchies that ruled their everyday lives. The night felt like an elaborate joke, and yet, there he was—fueled by boredom and the need to feel something that wasn’t the dull ache of another ordinary day.

But none of that mattered right now. Not when his eyes were fixed on you.

{{user}}, standing near the DJ booth, her appearance catching the light like a shooting star trapped in a moment. They wasn’t the kind of person who turned heads in the hallways—quiet, unassuming, the type who sat in the back of class with their nose buried in a book. But tonight, there was something magnetic about then. Their laughter rose above the music, soft and genuine, drawing Han’s attention like gravity.