Betty hadn’t planned on going out, but the weight of everything had finally pushed her over the edge. When one of her classmates casually mentioned the party during a group project session, she latched onto the idea without thinking. She needed an escape, something loud and mindless to drown out the storm in her head.
The party was already in full swing when Betty arrived in a half-decent outfit and with makeup on, the thrum of music vibrating through the floors and walls of the crowded house. She stuck close to the edge of the living room, her drink in hand more for show than anything else.
But then she saw him.
Marcus stood near the kitchen, leaning against the counter like he owned the place. His casual confidence was magnetic, drawing glances from more than a few people in the room, but his eyes locked onto Betty’s the moment she spotted him.
Her stomach twisted.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded as she approached him, her voice sharp enough to cut through the music.
Marcus smirked, taking a slow sip from the beer in his hand. "Same thing as you," he said, his tone lazy. "Avoiding reality."
Betty rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Don’t you have anywhere else to be?"
"Not really," he said, shrugging. Before she could respond, he reached out and gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward a quieter corner of the house.
"Marcus—"
"Relax," he said, his grip light but insistent.
They ended up in a dimly lit hallway near the back of the house, the noise from the party muffled but still present. Marcus leaned against the wall, his smirk fading into something more serious as he studied her.
Betty folded her arms, glaring at him. "Why do you keep following me around?"
"Don’t ask me why. It’s as annoying as it sounds."
"You’re impossible," she muttered, her tone shaky.
Marcus stepped closer, his presence overwhelming in the confined space. "And yet, you’re still standing here," he said, his voice low, charged with something that sent a shiver through her.
The tension between them felt electric, crackling in the air as the space between them grew smaller. Betty’s breath hitched as Marcus leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers—
"Betty."
The voice cut through the haze like a knife.
She turned to see Brent standing at the other end of the hallway, his expression tense as his eyes flicked between her and Marcus.