Decoration of lights around the house lightened up the entire street as we walked inside the big villa. Red and blue lights cast a glow so bright it made the night feel alive. The place looked like something out of a movie—expensive, polished, and too perfect to feel real. The bass from the music vibrated in my chest, louder with every step we took.
Shouldn't the neighbors be complaining? I wondered, but then again, people like whoever owned this villa didn't get complaints—they made them disappear.
My stomach started to twist, my heart thumping a million miles per hour. Social anxiety—my oldest enemy. I closed my eyes for a second, forcing a steady breath. Since my mother died, I'd learned how to manage my panic attacks, how to hide the tremors that came with them. I wasn't fragile. At least, I tried not to be.
"Wow, this place looks really cool!" Trinity shouted, already tipsy, her laughter spilling into the noise.
A song changed—something heavy and bass-filled. "Ohhh! I'll be at the dance floor!" she yelled, voice half-slurred.
"I'm going to make sure she doesn't sleep with any man," Kim muttered before running after her.
I stayed back, feeling every stare hit me like invisible darts. The air felt too thick. Too many people. Too many eyes. And some of them… weren't friendly.
One guy's gaze lingered too long—hungry, deliberate. He scanned me from head to toe, and my skin prickled. I regretted the dress instantly. It wasn't even that revealing, but his stare made it feel like it was.
"Hey, baby," a tall, light-skinned guy slid behind Ashly, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.
"I'll be leaving," Bianca muttered, rolling her eyes and walking off.
"Oh my god, baby, you came!" Ashly squealed, turning to face him with that radiant grin she wore like armor.
Who is he?
"I missed my honeybee," he murmured, his tone smooth, practiced.
"Aren't you naughty?" she giggled, swatting at him playfully. I turned away, pretending to look for something to do—anything to avoid feeling like the awkward extra in someone else's scene.
"Testimony!" she called before I could escape. "This is my boyfriend, Ace. Ace, this is my sister, Testimony."
I faked a polite smile as he turned to me, eyes sharp and assessing, a smile too calm for comfort. "Nice to meet you," he said, taking my hand and pressing a soft kiss against it.
What in the world?
"Nice to meet you too," I murmured, pulling my hand back and wiping it discreetly against my dress. That's when I noticed it—an inked snake curling around his neck. It shimmered under the lights like something alive.
"And I'm out," I muttered, already walking away.
"Wait—tell me when you leave, okay?" Ashly called after me.
I nodded.
I made my way toward the kitchen, the music muffled slightly there. I poured myself a glass of water, the cold liquid grounding me. But before I could finish it, another voice slithered close.
"Hey, baby girl," he drawled, leaning against the counter like he owned it.
I ignored him and finished my water in one go, setting the glass back down.
"Come on, I'm talking to you," he pressed, blocking my path.
My patience cracked.
"Move," I said flatly.
He reached for my waist. Wrong move.
I shoved his hand away, my voice sharper. "Leave me alone."
But he didn't. He grabbed my arm tighter, and instinct kicked in before fear could. I punched him—hard.
His head snapped back, and silence followed. "A no is a no," I snapped and walked off before my shaking hands could give me away.
I pushed open the exit door, desperate for air—and bumped straight into someone.
"Sorry," I mumbled, lifting my head.
Haze.
He looked impossibly composed, the dim light catching the edge of his jaw. His eyes flicked to mine, studying me, reading me.
"Testimony," he said quietly. "Are you okay?"
I nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm good. Just… leaving."
"So early?" he asked, his tone calm but heavy with something else—concern, maybe. "Did something happen?"
"Nothing. I just need to go home."
Behind me, a familiar voice broke through the crowd.
"Hey, you! You stupid girl—why'd you punch my face?"
The noise around us died instantly. Everyone turned. My pulse spiked. I froze.
Haze's expression darkened, voice low and cold. "Did he touch you?"
I nodded once, unable to speak.
Something flickered behind his eyes—rage, quiet and dangerous.
"Stand here," he ordered. His tone wasn't loud, but it carried authority that silenced everyone around.
He walked straight toward the guy, each step deliberate, deadly calm. One punch—swift, precise. The guy dropped instantly.
Gasps echoed across the room.
"Don't touch a woman when she says no," Haze said, voice like a warning through the bass-heavy silence. People stepped back. No one argued.
Then he turned to me. "Come with me."
He didn't wait for a response, just took my hand and led me through the stunned crowd to a quieter lounge area. The air smelled faintly of mint and leather. Soft music played somewhere nearby.
"Why did you come to Jeremy's party?" he asked, finally letting go. "You don't seem like a party girl."
I bit the inside of my cheek. Even if I told him the truth, he wouldn't get it—I came to see Slavy.
"Uhmm, my sister asked me to," I said instead.
"Where is she?"
"Lost in this big house," I replied with a small shrug.
He smiled, the edge of his tough demeanor softening. "I'm hanging with my boys. You can come chill with us if you want."
"Only boys?"
"Nah, a few girls too," he said.
I hesitated. I still wanted to find Slavy, but the memory of that creep's face and the sting of fear made me nod.
"Come on," Haze said, eyes glinting. "It's better than standing alone."
We walked back inside.
The moment he said, "Hey, guys," my stomach dropped.
There he was.
Slavy.
Sky sat beside him, whispering something that made him smirk. But when his eyes met mine, the smirk vanished. His whole face shifted—stone cold, tense.
I wanted to leave. My throat tightened, my chest heavy. But Haze's hand on mine anchored me.
"This is my new friend," Haze said, voice light but protective. "She's joining us tonight."
The group turned to look. Four guys, two girls—strangers, mostly.
"Your friend looks cool," said a dark-haired guy with sharp grey eyes. He wore a white hoodie and black pants, casual but clean.
I met his gaze but said nothing.
"Name's Jacob—but you can call me Jake," he said, giving a half-smile and brushing my hand lightly.
"Testimony," I replied flatly.
"I think I like her," Jake whispered to one of the others.
I ignored it.
"Testimony, this is my squad," Haze continued. "Jake here's… a little too confident, don't mind him."
He pointed as he spoke. "Tyler, Nelly, Cody, Alpha—and finally, my man Slavy."
The moment our eyes met again, I looked away. The tension between us felt like static.
"And these are my girls," Haze added. "Sky, Paris, Zoe, and Lila."
"Sky," I said coldly.
"We know each other," she shot back, her tone sharp as glass.
"Right, same class," Haze chuckled, trying to lighten it.
"Hey, Tess!" Lila greeted. Her blonde hair caught the light, her multiple piercings glinting. She seemed friendly enough, though her eyes darted curiously between Slavy and me.
"Okay, enough introductions," Haze said, grabbing a drink. "Let's play a game."
"What game?" Lily asked, voice curious.
"Simple," Cody replied. "Truth or Dare."
I straightened. "I'm not drinking," I said calmly.
Sky snorted. "Who doesn't drink at your age?"
"I just don't," I said, sharper than I intended. "Is that a problem?"
The room went still.
"Damn," Alpha murmured, grinning. "I like her already."
Lily raised a brow. "Alright then, new rule. Dare or Double Dare."
"Double Dare?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah," she said, leaning forward, eyes glinting. "You pick dare or double dare. But if you refuse, you take a shot for every rule you break—six if you chicken out completely."
That actually made sense, in a twisted way.
Everyone murmured in agreement. The excitement in the air thickened.
Then Slavy spoke. "I'm not playing."
Haze frowned. "Why not? You always do."
"Not tonight," Slavy said simply, his voice low, his tone firm.
I noticed how his jaw tightened, how his hand clenched around his glass. Something was off—controlled anger, or maybe restraint.
"Come on, bro, it's harmless," Haze pushed, still smiling. But the slight tension in his tone said otherwise.
Slavy didn't answer. He just leaned back, watching, calculating. The kind of silence that spoke louder than shouting.
Lila's voice cut through again. "Alright then, I'll start."
Everyone laughed and cheered lightly as the first dare began.
But I couldn't focus.
Every flicker of Slavy's gaze felt deliberate. Every silence between us heavy.
And even in the laughter and noise, I couldn't shake one truth
something dangerous pulsed beneath all this teenage chaos.
A game like this never stayed just a game when people like them played.