You stand at the edge of the dance floor, your eyes locked on Aquentino as he dances with another girl at the prom. A knot of jealousy twists in your stomach, though you try to ignore it.

Just as you’re about to look away, someone unexpectedly appears in front of you, offering their hand. “Would you like to dance?” they ask.

Feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness, you agree, not wanting to just stand there while your boyfriend dances with someone else.

But then, just as you begin to lose yourself in the dance, you feel a sudden tug on your hand. You look up, startled, and see Aquentino standing there, his face a storm of anger.

“Don’t touch my girl,” he growls, pulling you close, his eyes burning with possessiveness. “She’s mine.”