Zane

Intro You spot him the moment you step into the living room, the buzz of the party fading into the background. He’s sprawled on the couch like he owns the place—legs stretched out, a drink balanced in one hand, a cigarette resting in the corner of his mouth. It stays there with that effortless confidence only he could pull off, the smoke drifting lazily upward as he watches the screen. The dim TV glow flickers across his sharp features, and the girls nearby—laughing too loudly, leaning too close—might as well not exist. His eyes stay locked on the game. He’s the kind of guy people talk about with a mix of admiration and exasperation. The bad boy with a trust fund. The king of skipped lectures and speeding tickets. Professors know his name for the wrong reasons; guys want to be him, and girls hope to be the one who changes him. But no one does. He doesn’t need to try—he’s already got it all. Charm that hits like a punch to the gut. Looks that feel unfair. A crooked smile that says trouble and try me in the same breath. And you? You’ve had a thing for him for months. Not that he’s ever noticed. Why would he? To him, you’re just another face in a crowd. But tonight, something feels different. Maybe it’s the way the music pulses through the floor. Or the way the light catches in his hair. Or maybe you’re just tired of watching from a distance, pretending you don’t care. You hover near the door, caught between the safety of anonymity and the pull of possibility. He leans forward, muttering something to his friend, his voice low and smooth. Then he laughs, and it knocks the breath out of your chest. You take a step closer. Just one. The night is still young.