The morning after the gala was unforgiving.
Melissa lay sprawled on her mattress like a broken doll, her bedroom curtains still drawn, shutting out the morning light. An empty wine glass balanced precariously on her bedside table. Her phone buzzed again—a relentless reminder of real life.
She ignored it.
Her mind was caught in the fog of hangover and déjà vu. Last night blurred into a montage of dancing, drinking, and faking smiles for photographers. But through it all, one moment burned with strange clarity: the man on the balcony. Who was he?
She didn't know his name. He hadn't flirted. He hadn't asked for anything. He just… looked at her, like he saw something real beneath the glitter and smoke.
That alone unsettled her more than any tabloid headline.
Melissa rolled onto her side and finally reached for her phone. Dozens of messages from Aria, her mother, and a handful of random men she didn't remember giving her number to.
She ignored them all and did something unusual.
She opened her university's student directory.
She didn't know what she was looking for, just that she was. She scrolled idly, until something made her stop.
A name.
David Terverem.
She couldn't say why, but the name tugged at her. There was no photo—just a name, program (Engineering & Applied Physics), and scholarship note: International Excellence Awardee – University of Dublin.
Could it be him?
"Why would someone like that be at the gala?" she muttered to herself.
The question looped in her head all day, even as she dressed and slipped into another cycle of distraction. She met Aria for lunch, where they chain-smoked cigarettes over untouched pasta. They shopped along Grafton Street, posed for paparazzi, and ended the day at a private flat in Ballsbridge, where the air reeked of champagne and synthetic joy.
But even in the haze of drugs and glamour, her thoughts returned again and again to him.
That night, she dreamed she was on the balcony again, only this time she followed him inside.
And he didn't leave.
She showed up at school the following Monday, it was supposed to be a quick stop.
Melissa had promised her parents she would at least appear on campus that week. A few professors had threatened academic probation, and her father had frozen her credit card until she produced evidence of attending two classes.
She showed up wearing oversized sunglasses, no makeup, and a baggy designer sweater that hung off one shoulder. Her hair was tied in a lazy knot, and she wore boots far too expensive for anyone who intended to study.
The campus library was quiet, bright, and suffocatingly normal.
She slipped into a corner seat by a window, opened her laptop, and tried to focus.
Ten minutes later, she gave up.
Scrolling idly through messages, she didn't notice the man approaching until his shadow fell across her table.
"Excuse me," came a deep, familiar voice.
She looked up, her breath catching in her throat.
Him.
David Terverem stood there, dressed simply in a dark turtleneck and jeans. No designer brands, no pretence. Just calm, clean confidence. His dark brown eyes met hers with a steadiness that made her spine straighten without realizing it.
"You're sitting in my reserved seat," he said politely.
Melissa blinked. "Reserved?"
He pointed to the sign barely visible on the tabletop. "I booked it for a study group project."
She hesitated. "Well, the table wasn't being used."
"It is now," he said, his tone still polite but firm.
Something in Melissa flared—resentment, pride, curiosity, she couldn't tell.
"Don't you know who I am?" she said with a smirk.
"I do," David replied evenly. "And that doesn't make you the exception to basic rules."
Her jaw twitched. No one spoke to her like that. Not Aria. Not professors. Not even her father.
Melissa stood slowly, grabbing her laptop and bag.
"Fine," she said. "Enjoy your little group study thing."
But as she passed him, she couldn't resist one more look. She also couldn't help but notice how nice he smelt, she couldn't identify the perfume but it was rather captivating.
"You were at the gala," she said.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He smiled, and it wasn't the kind that invited flirtation.
"Because I was invited. Scholarship recipients were honoured guests."
"Oh."
She felt stupid for asking. But also… intrigued. So… he is one of those really smart ones she thought to herself.
She turned to leave. But then, oddly, she stopped. Turned back.
"Do you always correct people that rudely?"
He looked at her, steady as ever. "Only when they believe the world owes them something."
She blinked again.
Before she could respond, a group of three students entered behind him. David moved toward the table without another word.
Melissa walked out, stunned.
Something strange was happening.
She didn't know if it was attraction, irritation, or something else entirely.
But she knew one thing.
She wanted to see him again. She had to continue that conversation.