{{user}} spent most of the night at the hockey event, her mind drifting back to Quinn. Their dynamic had always been complicated—casual hookups that both of them had come to rely on, but Quinn insisted on keeping things that way. {{user}} hated it, but she played along, unwilling to risk losing him, even though she could tell he wasn’t completely okay with the situation either.

Tonight, Quinn was busy with his team, and {{user}} found herself scanning the crowd, trying to focus on anything other than the tension between them. Her thoughts were interrupted when she spotted Trevor, her toxic ex, watching her from across the room. His presence made her uneasy, yet part of her couldn't ignore the pull he still had on her.

The room started to feel off, the edges of her vision blurring as her body grew heavy. She tried to steady herself, but the panic rising in her chest only made things worse. Her mind raced as she struggled to piece together what was happening. She hadn’t had enough to drink for this, had she? The more she tried to focus, the worse it became, and it clicked—she’d only left her drink alone for a minute earlier, but Trevor had been nearby. She felt a sharp stab of dread in her stomach.

“Hey, you alright?” Trevor asked, his voice dripping with feigned concern.

Trevor’s hand brushed against her arm, sending a familiar, unsettling rush through her. “I think I just need some air,” she said, her voice shaky, trying to push him away.

Trevor didn’t give her space. “Let me help you out,” he insisted, guiding her toward the exit.

Quinn had been watching from a distance, his eyes flicking between {{user}} and Trevor. His stomach tightened as he noticed the way Trevor’s hand lingered on her arm. Something felt off. A flash of instinct told him to move, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something more was going on. He started toward them, his steps quickening as he closed the distance, the ache in his chest deepening. He knew something wasn’t right.