Desmond slammed the car door shut, the metal groaning under his force.

I stood there, dazed.

What was he so annoyed about? Everything was going exactly his way. I remained frozen, completely forgetting to buckle my seatbelt.

He leaned over, his scent of sandalwood and something sharp hitting me. With a flick of his wrist, he clicked the buckle into place, then leaned back to scoff, "Didn't think you’d be so eager."

I snapped, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Desmond didn't reply. He just slammed his foot onto the gas.

"You like this Kylian Gomez guy?"

"Do you want me to, or not?"

He hammered the horn in frustration. "What do you think?"

My temper flared. "He’s not even as good-looking as the guy Fletcher Reed recommended, anyway."

The tires shrieked as he slammed on the brakes, hauling the car into a jagged U-turn.

"We’re supposed to be going to my parents' place," I said, confused. "Why are we heading back?"

He didn't say a word. His face was a mask of cold, dark fury. He drove like a man possessed until we reached my apartment, shoved the car into park, and left without a single look back.

...

The truth was, I didn't like any of them.

But before I moved to Southside, I needed to settle things with my parents. It was only right. After all, this entire mess had started because I was stupid enough to fall for Desmond in the first place.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. A message from Kylian.

"Tomorrow at 7:00 PM. Let’s meet."

I sent a quick, polite refusal. The call came seconds later.

His voice was thick with booze, slurred and ugly. "Serenity, don't play hard to get. I'm coming to pick you up tomorrow."

I hit the block button without a second thought.

I grabbed my jacket and headed out the door. I decided to head to my parents' place now, hoping to catch them before the night ended. But as I rounded the corner of the apartment complex, I skidded to a halt.

Kylian was slumped against the brick wall, the amber light of a streetlamp casting long, jagged shadows over him. The smell of cheap tobacco mixed with the sour, fermented stench of whiskey rolled off him in waves.

"Going somewhere this late?" he sneered.