Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1
AJ
The party is loud in that way that stops being fun after the third drink.
Or the fifth.
I’ve lost count somewhere between laughing too hard at something that wasn’t that funny and pouring another drink I didn’t need. The music’s still going, people still packed into every room, but I’m done with it. Done with all of it. I push through the crowd without bothering to say anything, ignoring the familiar faces, the hands that try to pull me back into conversations I don’t care about, and step outside like I can finally breathe again. The air hits colder than I expect, sharp enough to make me pause for a second before I keep going, a little unsteady, a little too far gone to pretend otherwise.
A few months ago, I wouldn’t be leaving early. I’d still be inside—probably with Gray, probably with Beau—doing the same stupid shit we always did, laughing too loud, not thinking about anything beyond the next drink, the next game, the next day.
Now it’s just…
Different.
I don’t see them like I used to. Not all together. Not easy like before. Everything feels split down the middle, like something that doesn’t quite fit back the way it used to, no matter how much you try to ignore it.
I miss my friends.
The thought sits heavier than it should, mixing badly with everything else already in my system, and I let out a slow breath as I move a few steps away from the house before giving up completely and dropping down onto the pavement, back against the curb, head tipping back until I’m staring at the sky. The stars blur together after a second, the world tilting just enough to make everything feel distant, like I’m not fully in it. I let my eyes fall shut for a moment. Probably longer than I should.
“Adam?”
Her voice cuts through the quiet, soft but clear enough to pull me back, and I frown slightly before forcing my eyes open, turning my head just enough to see her.
And for a second—
I just stare.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
Ivy.
Beau’s sister.
She’s standing a few steps away with a bag slung over her shoulder—ballet, obviously—and even at this hour, coming from practice that probably wasn’t even scheduled, she looks… put together. Not untouched—there’s a hint of exhaustion there if you look close enough—but still controlled in that way she always is, like she doesn’t let herself fall apart even when she probably should. She’s always been like that. Disciplined, focused, too hard on herself, chasing perfection like it’s something she can actually catch. The exact opposite of everything I am right now.
“You’re drunk,” she says, stepping a little closer, her tone flat like it’s not even a question.
I let out a low breath that almost turns into a laugh, shifting slightly where I sit as the ground tilts again.
“Didn’t notice,” I mutter, words slower than they should be.
She rolls her eyes, adjusting the strap of her bag like she’s already accepted this situation as her problem.
“What are you doing out here?” she asks, glancing briefly toward the house before looking back at me.
“Taking in the stars,” I say, gesturing vaguely upward before my hand drops halfway through, my head falling back again.
“Right.”
There’s a pause, just long enough for her to really look at me, to take in the fact that I’m sitting on the pavement like this. Then she exhales.
“Okay, get up.” I shake my head immediately, a quiet scoff leaving my lips.
“No.”
“AJ.”
“No,” I repeat, dragging it out, eyes half-lidded as I look at her. “M’good.”
She doesn’t argue. She just steps forward and grabs my arm, fingers wrapping around it firmly as she tries to pull me up without asking again.
“Ivy—” I start, more out of reflex than anything, but she doesn’t stop.
“You’re not staying here,” she says, calm but insistent, like she’s already decided.
I groan under my breath but push myself up anyway, mostly to stop her pulling, and the second I’m on my feet the world shifts harder than before. Yeah. That’s not great. I sway slightly, and her other hand comes up immediately, steadying me before I can lose my balance completely, her grip tightening just enough to keep me upright.
“Easy,” she murmurs.
I exhale slowly, my head dipping just enough that my gaze lands on her again, closer now, clearer than anything else tonight.
This—
Her.
This moment.
Bad idea.
I know it.
But right now, with everything else blurred out and slipping—
She’s the only thing that isn’t.
And for some reason…
I don’t pull away.