The cold night air slapped against my skin the moment Marcus dragged me out of that suffocating dinner hall. His grip wasn't rough, but it wasn't gentle either like he was holding on to something he desperately wanted to let go of but couldn't.
I didn't fight him. Not this time. My legs moved like they had no mind of their own, following him, until the music and laughter from the dinner blurred behind us.
The second we hit the quiet corner outside, my chest caved in. All the fake smiles, the whispers, the weight of eyes judging me, it broke through me like a dam snapping. Tears slid down my cheeks, hot and shameless.
I sank onto the pavement, mascara smudging, my breath shaky, my heart pounding too fast for my chest to hold.
And Marcus?
He just stood there.
Tall, silent, eyes flickering like some storm was brewing behind them. He didn't touch me. Didn't crouch down. Didn't say, Sharon, it's okay.
He just watched me cry my lungs out.
That hurt more than anything.
"You're really just going to stand there?" I finally snapped, my voice breaking between sobs.
He didn't answer. His jaw tightened, fists sliding into his pockets like he was battling something he couldn't name.
I let the tears flow. I cried until there was nothing left inside me, until the ugly sobs melted into shaky breaths. My makeup was ruined, my heart felt bruised, but my pride it wasn't gone yet.
I dragged myself up, wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and looked him dead in the face.
"I need to play hot tonight."
Marcus's brows lifted slightly, like I had just dared him. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. That lazy, knowing smile that said he was already ten steps ahead of me.
He reached forward, his thumb brushing across my cheek, gently smearing away the black streaks of mascara. His touch lingered a second too long.
"I know the perfect place to take you."
I raised an eyebrow, sniffing. "Do I look like I care?"
"You'll care when we get there." He smirked, stepping back. "Trust me, Shar."
---
We didn't talk much on the drive. His car swallowed me up with leather and expensive cologne, while the city lights blurred by outside my window. My mind was still a mess, but some part of me was buzzing anticipation, maybe.
Then, just before we hit the highway, I caught a glimpse in the side mirror.
Aec.
Standing outside the dinner hall's glass doors, watching Marcus's car speed away.
His jaw was sharp with anger, eyes burning holes into the night. For one second, he looked like he was about to sprint after us, but then he stopped, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked back in.
I didn't see his face after that, but I felt something awkward
---
The car screeched to a stop twenty minutes later. I blinked up at the neon sign glowing red above us.
The kind of place you don't bring nice girls.
The kind of place you only bring trouble.
Marcus walked around and opened my door, smirk tugging at his lips.
"Welcome to the hottest club in town."
Inside, the atmosphere slammed into me. Smoke, sweat, flashing lights, and bass so heavy it rattled my bones.
Bodies moved everywhere, dancing, grinding, touching. Drinks spilling. Laughter, even moans hidden in corners.
I should've been shocked. But instead, a grin spread across my face.
This was exactly what I needed.
The night was mine.
I ordered shots until I lost count. Danced like the floor belonged to me. Twerked to the beat while strangers cheered me on. My dress clung tighter with sweat, my hair messy but wild.
Every time a man tried to touch me, Marcus appeared like a shadow, blocking them off with a glare that could slice.
At first, I thought it was hot. Protective, even. But by the tenth guy, it started to boil in me.
And then it happened.
One guy, tall, cocky, reeking of alcohol put his hands on my waist. I didn't even flinch. I was drunk enough to let him. But before the beat dropped, Marcus shoved him back so hard the guy stumbled.
"Back. Off." Marcus's voice was thunder.
The guy barked a laugh. "She doesn't seem to mind. Who the hell are you? Her daddy?"
The tension snapped like a whip.
Crowds gathered. Lights flashed red. Music kept pounding, but the world shrank to just the three of us.
The guy placed his hand again on my waist, rough and possessive.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Before I could even blink Marcus's fists clenched. He stepped forward until his chest nearly collided with the guy's.
"I said back. Off."
The guy laughed, shoving Marcus in the shoulder. "Or what?"
And just like that, the dam broke.
Marcus's punch was fast maybe too fast. His fist cracked against the guy's jaw with a sound that made the crowd erupt into chaos.
The guy staggered, spit flying, before lunging back at Marcus with a wild swing. I screamed, stumbling back as they collided.
Bodies shoved in around us, people cheering like it was entertainment. Drinks spilled, lights strobing red-blue-red over the chaos.
Marcus landed another blow, his knuckles splitting skin, but the guy came back harder, slamming a fist into Marcus's ribs.
"Stop it!" I screamed, but my voice was lost under the roar.
The guy grabbed Marcus by the collar, trying to slam him into the bar, but Marcus twisted, driving his knee up hard into the guy's gut. The man choked, doubling over, only for Marcus to throw him against the edge of a table. Glass shattered.
"Marcus!" I pushed forward, but someone's shoulder knocked me back. My breath caught, my heart hammering.
The guy roared, bleeding now, but still not giving up. He charged again, tackling Marcus to the ground. They rolled, fists flying, grunts and curses blending with the music.
Every punch Marcus threw was brutal, like he wasn't just fighting some random stranger like he was fighting every demon inside him.
I shoved through the circle, my hands shaking. "Enough!" I screamed, voice raw. "Stop it!"
But they didn't stop.
The guy caught Marcus across the face, splitting his lip. Marcus spat blood, eyes blazing, and slammed his fist down again and again until the guy stopped moving.
The crowd howled. Some shouted for more. Others scrambled back in fear.
And me?
I stared, horrified and drunk, chest heaving, mascara running down my cheeks.
"Marcus!" I yanked at his arm, pulling him off. He jerked away, chest heaving, fists dripping red.
I could barely breathe.
I pushed Marcus's chest with my palm, fury igniting in me.
"Stop it!" I shouted over the music. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Do you want to get groped by every drunk bastard in here?" His eyes burned into me.
"Yes! Maybe I do!" My words slurred, but I didn't care. "At least they let me have fun! You...you just stand there, making every guy back off me like I'm untouchable! Like I'm your property!"
His jaw clenched so hard I thought his teeth might crack.
"You're drunk." he answered with rage
"And you're a hypocrite!" I screamed, the chaos rising around us. "You don't want me, but you won't let anyone else want me either! Do you have any idea how pathetic that is, Marcus?"
Gasps scattered through the crowd. My heart was hammering, my throat raw.
He stared at me, unblinking. For the first time that night, I couldn't read him. His face was a mask, but I knew something dangerous was boiling underneath.
"You think I don't know what you're doing?" I went on, voice shaking. "Every time I get close to feeling alive, you ruin it. You ruin me!"
Silence fell between us for half a second.
Then Marcus grabbed my arm, yanked me out of the crowd, and dragged me into the alley outside the club.
Before I could curse him, cold water slammed against my face.
I gasped.
He'd grabbed a bottle from the bouncer's crate and poured it over me. My hair clung to my cheeks, my makeup running, my dress sticking to me like second skin.
"What the hell!" I shrieked, shivering.
"Get sober, Sharon!" Marcus's voice roared. His eyes blazed like wildfire. "Stop behaving like a slut when you're worth so much more than this!"
The words cut through me, sharper than knives and I could not help but still relate it to aec... Another whore accusation
"I..." My voice cracked.
But then he stepped closer, lowering his tone, every word like a bullet straight into me.
"You don't get it, do you? I don't let men touch you because I can't stand it. Because every damn second I watch you laugh, dance, or breathe ...I want you. I've always wanted you. And it's killing me."
My lips parted. The alley was spinning, not from alcohol anymore, but from the weight of his confession.
"But you…" His voice faltered, just for a beat. "You can't be mine. Not the way I want. Not with the way things are."
"Why?" My voice broke, softer, desperate.
His jaw flexed, like he was holding back the truth. Then, suddenly, his hand cupped my face, firm and unyielding, tilting my chin up.
"Because if I kiss you right now," he whispered, "you'll never belong to anyone else again. And that terrifies me."
I froze.
His words silenced everything inside me.
The music from the club was faint now, but my heartbeat drowned it all.
I couldn't speak. Couldn't move.
So he let go.
Marcus stepped back, eyes shadowed.
"Go home, Sharon."
And just like that, he turned his back.
---
I stumbled away minutes later, still drenched, still trembling. Every step home felt heavier than the last. My mind replayed his words on a loop, each time twisting the knife deeper.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run back and demand answers. But I didn't.
Instead, I walked into the night, mascara streaking down like battle scars.
---
Back at the dinner, Aec leaned casually against the bar, his sharp eyes following Maxie.
She looked restless, scanning for a way out.
When she finally tried slipping through a side door, his hand shot out, blocking her path.
"Going somewhere?" His tone was smooth, but his eyes dark and knowing.
Maxie stiffened. "Just… fresh air."
Aec smirked, tilting his head. "Funny. Your friend just left. With Marcus."
Her throat bobbed.
"What's Sharon really like?" he asked, voice casual but laced with steel. "She hides behind those sharp words, but I've seen things. The way she smiles when she thinks no one's watching. The way her hands shake when she's angry."
Maxie swallowed, eyes darting. "Why do you care?"
Aec leaned closer, his breath brushing her ear. "Because Sharon isn't just another girl in the room. She's the storm. And storms… always leave destruction behind."
Maxie's lips trembled.
Then his voice dropped lower, colder.
"Tell me, Maxie. How close is she to Marcus?"
Her breath caught.
And in that moment, she realized Aec wasn't just asking. He was hunting