The next evening arrived quickly.

  Eve stood in front of her mirror, hair loosely curled and falling just over her shoulders. She wore a simple but fttering bck top paired with a long, ste-coloured skirt that swayed softly around her legs, tucked into a pair of polished bck boots. She didn’t want to overdo it, but still wanted to look good, but casual. Polished. Confident.

  She touched up her lip tint, gave herself a once-over, then stepped back. Her heart fluttered slightly as she gnced at the time. Rowan would be there any minute.

  She grabbed her jacket and took one st look in the mirror.

  "Okay," she whispered to her reflection. "Just drinks. Just... casual."

  Rowan had texted her the address of the bar earlier that day—a quiet, upscale spot just off one of the fluxline walkways in Trinix Square. It wasn’t fshy, but it had character: soft ambient lighting, low music, and panoramic windows that overlooked the glowing city below.

  Eve made her way through the district, her boots echoing softly on the gss-paved path. When she arrived, Rowan was already there, leaning casually against the railing just outside the entrance.

  His smile lit up the moment he saw her. He leaned in and greeted her with a kiss to the cheek, his voice warm and easy. "You look nice."

  Eve thanked him with a soft blush, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  They stepped inside together. The bar was just as Rowan described—quiet and elegant, bathed in dim light and low, melodic ambiance. A server led them to a cosy table near the window.

  As they settled in, Eve found herself fiddling with the edge of her napkin, unable to stop the little flutter of nerves dancing in her chest.

  Rowan noticed. He leaned slightly across the table, his tone gentle. "Hey, you okay?"

  Eve blinked and gave a small smile. The fact that he noticed felt... kind.

  "Yeah, just a little nervous," she admitted.

  With a nod, Rowan stood from the table. "Let me grab us something. I’ve got just the thing."

  He returned a few minutes ter with two drinks. Eve took a sip—stronger than she expected. She blinked, coughed softly, then took another sip, hoping it would smooth out the nerves still fluttering under her skin.

  She didn’t say much, and Rowan watched her closely, noticing the tension.

  "Hey," he said with a small smile. "How about we make this less of a date and more casual? A few of my teammates are out at a spot nearby. If you want to join, we can swing by. No pressure."

  Eve hesitated. She thought about it. Her friends weren’t here. She didn’t have anywhere else to be. And maybe being around others would take her mind off the pressure at the Academy. Her performance. The constant hovering doubt.

  She took another long sip—finished the drink—and nodded. "Sure. Let’s go."

  The walk to the next bar was quick, but as they neared, Eve stumbled slightly.

  Rowan steadied her. "You good?"

  She nodded quickly. "Yeah. I’m fine. Just... maybe drank that too fast. And I’m kind of running on fumes."

  He didn’t press her. Just offered his arm. She took it.

  They arrived outside a much louder venue—closer to a nightclub than a bar. Bass pulsed from behind the walls, and a long line of people waited outside under strings of neon.

  Without missing a beat, Rowan led her straight to the front. The bouncer’s face lit up at the sight of him.

  "Evening, Rowan."

  "Evening," Rowan replied smoothly, gesturing toward Eve. "She’s with me."

  The doors were opened for them, and they were let inside without question.

  Inside, the club was bathed in deep violet and electric blue light, pulsing to the heavy rhythm of the music. The air thrummed with energy, the bass shaking the floors just enough to feel it in your chest.

  Rowan guided Eve through the haze of fshing lights and dancing bodies to a private table tucked into a corner alcove. It was elevated slightly above the main floor, offering a view of the dance space below but quiet enough to hold a conversation.

  Eve slid into the seat across from him, eyes darting across the vibrant room. She could hardly hear herself think, but somehow, it was the perfect kind of noise. A distraction. A wash of sound and motion.

  She never really got to go to clubs back home—this was new. Exciting.

  At the table already were a few others, tall and sharp-eyed. Rowan greeted them with easy familiarity and introduced Eve.

  "Eve—these guys are from around the Academy. You've probably seen each other in passing," he said casually.

  She nodded politely. Maybe she had seen them before, but it was hard to be sure. They all had the same polished, athletic look. Confident. Effortless. Not unlike Rowan himself.

  Their smiles were friendly, but something about their eyes reminded her that this world still wasn’t entirely hers.

  Then she felt a presence behind her—something familiar before she even turned.

  A voice, light and amused. "Rowan didn’t tell me we were bringing guests."

  Eve turned to see Selene stepping into the alcove, dressed in a body-hugging dress that shimmered subtly under the club's lights. Her golden skin almost glowed beneath the violet and blue. Every movement she made was fluid, confident, deliberate.

  She was stunning.

  Eve instinctively gnced down at her own outfit—the long ste skirt, the bck boots. Suddenly, she felt less polished. Less... effortless.

  Selene gave her a faint smile. "Didn’t expect to run into you here."

  Eve managed a polite nod in return, her voice catching just slightly. "Yeah. Me neither."

  Before the conversation could go further, Rowan swooped in from behind, sliding an arm around Eve’s waist. In his other hand, he held a drink, which he handed to her smoothly.

  "Figured you might need a refill," he said with a grin.

  The gesture was smooth, practiced—almost instinctual. His presence was grounding, but also suddenly very noticeable, especially under Selene’s watchful gaze.

  Eve sat back at the table, drink in hand, the bass of the music vibrating through her chest. She took a sip, then another, the alcohol warming her throat as she tried to settle into the moment.

  Rowan, as always, was charming—his ugh easy, his attention locked in on her every time she spoke, even over the pounding rhythm of the club. It was hard not to be pulled in by him.

  Still, her fingers toyed with the gss as she drank, unsure if she was trying to rex or escape.

  Rowan poured her another drink from a bottle he’d brought over to the table. She took it without hesitation, grateful for something to focus on. The second drink went down a little faster than the first. Warmth flooded her limbs.

  Rowan never let her gss stay empty long. Each time it neared the halfway mark, he was already refilling it—smooth, attentive, effortless.

  The world around her blurred slightly with every sip. Lights swirled. The music throbbed louder. And through it all, Rowan never stopped smiling.

  Eve started to feel the alcohol kick in. Maybe it was stronger here on Terra. Her limbs felt looser, her thoughts fuzzier. The lights grew hazier, the music louder, echoing inside her skull like it was tunnelling deeper with every beat.

  Rowan edged closer, saying something she couldn’t quite catch. She turned toward him, but her vision was a little blurred, and the sound of the club was too overwhelming to make out his words.

  She wasn’t thinking much at all anymore—just letting herself enjoy the warmth, the buzz, the way everything felt far away.

  But then Rowan’s hand brushed against her leg.

  In a haze, she tried to brush him off casually, not wanting to make a scene. He didn't push further, but the contact lingered longer than she would’ve liked.

  Eve blinked hard and sat up straighter. "I need the bathroom," she said, barely above a whisper, but Rowan nodded.

  She got up from the table, stumbled slightly, and made her way toward the dies' room, the path ahead of her swimming slightly as she moved through the crowd.

  Inside the restroom, she steadied herself in front of the mirror. The cool lighting and sleek surfaces of the vanity area contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy outside. She spshed a bit of water on her cheeks and touched up her lip gloss, staring at her reflection as she tried to blink away the fog.

  Her heart was still beating too fast. Her hands moved automatically, adjusting her skirt, smoothing her hair. She was trying to gather herself, to feel normal again.

  As she turned slightly, two women exited one of the stalls behind her, ughing as they passed. They were stunning—tall, effortlessly poised, wearing sleek metallic outfits that shimmered with every move. Their hair was styled to perfection, their makeup immacute, glowing beneath the vanity lights. Eve caught their reflections beside hers. She felt... out of pce.

  Muffled voices from the other side of the restroom wall—ughing, hushed, and slightly slurred. Two women, probably unaware of anyone else in the bathroom. The sound echoed slightly in the chamber, bouncing off the sleek tile.

  "Did you see the way he’s all over her? Gods, he’s got a type, doesn’t he? Always loves a new toy—na?ve enough to fall for the charm, but he gets bored so fast."

  "Mmhmm. She looks so out of pce, though. Long skirt? Boots? She doesn’t belong here," one of them said with a smirk.

  They ughed snidely, the sound sharp and careless, like they didn’t care who heard them—or maybe they wanted to be heard."

  A pause, then a snide whisper. "Why is she even at the Academy, anyway? She’s a nobody. Not even from this world, and they put her on a pedestal. Figures.""

  They ughed again. Eve froze, her hand still at her lip, the gloss applicator paused mid-motion.

  "Hope she knows what she’s getting into... Rowan doesn’t exactly have a great track record once he’s bored."

  She let out a breath slowly, then gnced at herself in the mirror. The lights were cooler in here, less forgiving. Her reflection looked flushed; hair slightly mussed. The faintest trace of self-doubt crept in as her gaze lingered.

  She touched her hair again, smoothing it behind her ears.

  Then, shoulders stiff but lifted, she turned and made her way back toward the table.

  One of the guys at the table looked up as she approached and offered her a drink with a grin. "This one’s from Rowan," he said, urging her to take it.

  Still feeling raw from the bathroom encounter and the fog still lingering behind her eyes, Eve didn’t think twice. She took the gss and drank in one big swing.

  A few minutes passed. The guy who handed her the drink leaned in closer than necessary, his voice too close to her ear. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but the club’s music seemed louder now, pounding in her chest like a second heartbeat. Her vision blurred even more, the lights smearing at the edges.

  She was drunk.

  Really drunk.

  "I want to dance," she said suddenly, her voice lifted just enough to be heard over the music. Her eyes moved toward the dance floor, where lights spun over a sea of bodies moving in rhythm. The closeness, the energy, the chaos—it was magnetic.

  The guy—she still hadn’t caught his name—grinned and stood. "Sure thing. Come on."

  He reached for her hand, and she let him take it, letting him guide her to the middle of the floor. The music swallowed them whole.

  Eve tilted her head back, eyes closed as her body swayed to the beat. The lights were a blur, the thrum of bass vibrating through her bones. She no longer had control over what she was doing or who she was with.

  All she wanted was to feel something else. To forget the stares, the whispers, the pressure. To let go of all the doubt and the weight she’d been carrying.

  Just for a little while.

  From the side-lines, Selene stood half-shadowed in the VIP section above the floor, a drink in hand, eyes locked on the scene below. She watched as Eve danced between two guys—her movements a little too loose, her eyes a little too gssy.

  Selene slowly pulled out her phone, angled it, and recorded a brief video. No words, just the fshing lights, Eve's figure swaying, and the guy behind her inching closer than he should have.

  With a snide curl of her lips, Selene posted it to her socials.

  Below, the guy Eve had been dancing with leaned into her, arms sliding around her waist. Eve, out of it and caught in the haze, barely noticed as she slumped slightly against him. He took the opportunity and held her tighter.

  Eve had no idea what she was doing anymore.

  And no one around her seemed to care.

  Back at the table, Rowan was now surrounded by a different crowd—three women dressed in shimmering, curve-hugging fabrics had joined him. They leaned in close as they talked, ughing at his comments, touching his arm, one even brushing a hand through his hair.

  Rowan, ever the charmer, was entirely in his element. He basked in the attention, ughing, smirking, leaning in toward each of them like it was second nature. For the moment, Eve wasn't even on his mind.

  He didn’t see her on the floor.

  Didn’t see how she stumbled.

  Didn’t notice how far gone she already was.

  It was te.

  A sleek, matte-bck transport car hummed quietly along a fluxline back toward the city. Inside, Dax lounged with one leg propped up on the seat in front of him, eyes glued to his phone.

  "Yes—signal again," he grinned to himself as the data bar filled. Notifications and messages began pinging in rapid succession, lighting up his screen.

  Across from him, Levi rolled his eyes. "You really need to mute that."

  "Rex," Dax replied, smirking. "Just catching up."

  He scrolled through his socials and paused on a video that had just been posted—Selene's username stamped across the corner. The moment the clip began pying, the sound of a club—music thumping and voices yelling—leaked into the car.

  Dax's expression shifted instantly. His smirk vanished. "Uhh..."

  Levi gnced over casually. "What?"

  Dax didn’t answer at first. He turned his phone toward Levi, the video already paused on the image of Eve, dancing unsteadily between two guys, her body sck and gzed with sweat under pulsing lights.

  Levi stared.

  Then his jaw clenched.

  Without a word, he leaned forward and tapped the screen to repy the video from the beginning. The flicker of blue and violet light reflected in his eyes as the short clip ran again—Eve’s dazed sway, the guy’s hand around her waist, the crowd too distracted to notice.

  Dax stayed quiet, watching him. He knew that look in Levi’s eyes. It wasn’t just anger. It was something deeper—controlled, focused. Dangerous.

  Levi took out his phone, a new tension behind his movements. As he opened his messages, he noticed a few texts from Eve—scattered, misspelled, and barely coherent. His thumb hovered for a second, then he sighed and hit the call button.

  No answer.

  The call rang out, unanswered, and Levi pulled the phone away slowly, eyes narrowing. His voice was low and even when he spoke again.

  "Do you know where this pce is?" he asked Dax without looking up.

  Dax nodded immediately. "Yeah. I’ve been there once. Club Helix—east Trinix. Real fshy, real exclusive."

  The transport had just pulled up to the Academy.

  Dax and Levi exited the vehicle into the cool night air. Dax gnced over at him and gave a knowing grin. "Ooh, I know that look," he said with a wink. "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do."

  Levi’s eyes narrowed with a sigh as he turned away, already heading back toward the city.

  On the ride, he tried calling Eve again. This time, she picked up.

  "Levi???" she slurred. "Oops... did I call you?"

  "Eve," he said sharply. "Where are you?"

  Through the phone, he could hear the thundering bass of the club, muffled voices, gsses clinking—chaos.

  There was a long pause before Eve replied, clearly struggling to form a thought. "Umm... do you... do you know where I am?" she asked, and he heard her voice fade slightly as she turned to someone nearby. "Hey, do you know where I am...?"

  Levi’s jaw locked again. His fingers tightened around the phone.

  A faint voice came through the other end of the line—it was male. "Yeah, Club Helix... but we could head back to mine if this isn’t your vibe," the guy said casually.

  Levi's voice cut in, sharp and low. "Eve, stay on the phone with me."

  There was a rustle, another disoriented sound from her side of the call, but no clear answer.

  A few more minutes passed—fumbling noises, shifting, background noise muddled by the music. Then suddenly, her voice rose above the chaos. "I’m going home!" she shouted at someone near her.

  Levi heard a response from the guy. "Wait—hang on, where are you going?"

  Then Eve’s voice again, slurred and tense: "Hey—let go. Let go of me!"

  Outside Club Helix, a bck car pulled up.

  Levi stepped out; phone still pressed to his ear. His eyes scanned the entrance—and then he saw her.

  Right outside, Eve was struggling to pull her arm free from a guy who had her by the wrist, trying to stop her.

  "Hey!" Levi barked, his voice like thunder. "Let her go."

  He charged forward without hesitation. In one swift motion, he grabbed the guy’s arm and wrenched it away from Eve, breaking the grip. She stumbled backward, falling hard onto the pavement.

  "Tsk—whatever, man. She was asking for it," the guy muttered, holding up a hand dismissively.

  That was it.

  Levi’s fist collided with the guy’s face before he could say another word. No hesitation. No warning.

  The guy reeled backward, nose bleeding, stunned. He didn’t fight back. He just rubbed his face and walked off without another word.

  Levi stood over him, he didn’t go after him. He forced himself to stop.

  Then he turned.

  Eve was sitting on the ground, upright now, dazed. When Levi knelt beside her and reached his hands out to help her up, she blinked up at him.

  "Oh, Levi... when did you get here?" she mumbled, her words thick with alcohol.

  Levi crouched beside her, one hand still outstretched, the other gripping his phone tight enough to crack it. He scanned her quickly—eyes gssy, flushed skin, her bance gone.

  "Come on," he said, his voice low, almost gentle. "Let’s get you out of here."

  Eve reached for his hand with a soft, dizzy smile, and Levi helped her to her feet, steadying her as she swayed.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful and firm, and began guiding her toward the car waiting at the curb.

  The fshing lights of Club Helix pulsed behind them, but Levi never looked back.

  Once inside the car, Eve slumped over in the seat beside him. At first, she was quiet—until a soft sniffle escaped.

  Levi looked over, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Eve?"

  "I can't go home..." she murmured, slurring her words. Her voice cracked, and she let out a trembling sigh.

  He blinked. "Why? Are you in danger?"

  She shook her head weakly, her lip wobbling. "I can't get into my house... I don’t know what I did with the key card. I think... I think I lost it."

  She sniffled again; eyes gssy with tears. "I’m so stupid..."

  Levi let out a flurry of a sigh and leaned back in his seat. The sharp tension in his body softened only slightly as he turned his head toward the window, jaw clenched.

  "You're not stupid," he muttered, barely audible.

  The car rolled quietly through the night, the city lights glinting off the gss as silence settled in between them—thick with the weight of everything unspoken.

  When they finally reached Levi’s apartment, he all but carried Eve inside. Her body slumped heavier against him the moment the cold air hit her, and she muttered something incoherent as he fumbled for the door panel.

  Once inside, Levi kicked the door shut behind them and gently lowered her onto the edge of the couch. She blinked slowly, dazed.

  He crouched to untie her boots, slipping them off one at a time.

  Eve just stared at him.

  There was something childlike in her expression—unguarded, fragile. And then, her lips parted, and she said it.

  "Why don’t you like me?"

  The words hit harder than they should’ve. Levi looked up, startled, her question hanging thick in the space between them.

  She wasn’t angry. Just drunk. Just tired. Just... hurting.

  Levi swallowed hard, unsure how to answer her.

  He sat back on his heels and met her gaze—her eyes wide, unfocused, but brimming with something raw.

  "It’s not that I don’t like you," he said quietly. "I just..."

  He trailed off, brows pulling together.

  Levi sighed. "You're drunk, Eve..."

  She blinked slowly at him, then frowned. "You're always so cold to me."

  Her voice wavered; her words slurred but heavy with something buried. "Is it because I'm not blonde enough?"

  Levi’s brows drew together, caught off guard. "What?"

  Eve stared at him, blinking slowly like she wasn’t even sure what she’d said. A moment passed in silence between them.

  She leaned back with a dazed sigh. "I wish you liked me more," she murmured quietly, so soft that Levi wasn’t sure if she’d really said it at all, or if his mind filled in the words. Her head dropped gently against the side of the couch.

  She was already halfway asleep.

  Levi stood, running a hand through his hair, tension vibrating under his skin.

  He looked down at her for a long moment, her soft breathing now the only sound in the room. Her words lingered in his mind—both the ones she said and the ones she might not have meant to.

  His voice was barely above a whisper, almost to himself. "What am I going to do with you..."