Selucas arrived somewhat late. Work took longer than expected.... Can't let father down, the handsome boy thought dejected. Of course he hadn't meant to arrive late. In fact, he had planned to be early— early enough to acclimate, to walk through the crowd with calm confidence, to spot Darcy before she spotted him. But life, especially life under his father's roof, rarely bowed to personal plans.
That afternoon, his father had returned home unexpectedly, stressed and heavy-footed, asking with a compelling undertone in his near-commanding, exigent voice, Selucas to help him with a stubborn leak in the workshop's hydraulic press system (when his father is under pressure, he can be quite strict, blunt and gruff). "No one else understands the pipes the way you do," he grumbled, which Selucas knew was less a compliment and more a command. And while part of him wanted to say no - to push back, to choose his own free time for once - he didn't. His father demanded obedience from him, and he felt obliged - as a good son - to obey; that was just how things were at home, he was expected to support his father at all times.
Deep down, Selucas still carried the hope that if he just did enough, stayed long enough, proved reliable enough, his father might one day soften. Might one day see him not just as a boy with quick hands, but as a young man trying to shape his own future.
So, he had stayed. Wrenched and patched and bolted until dusk bled into night. His hands raw, his shirt soaked with sweat and coolant; that made - eventually after the job was done - washing himself take even longer, because he really wanted to make sure that no dirt, grime or smell would stick to him.
He is now finally in the place where he wanted to be, the place where she is also present....
Fortunately, he did not arrive dramatically late, just enough that the thump of the music had already seeped out to the gravel of the estate's long driveway, enough that a few drunk stragglers had already formed gossip huddles near the entrance.
Brimming with sizzling excitement and stoked suspense Selucas had been waiting full expectations for this moment, to meet her again— that mysterious and profound young lady with her intriguing red hair and warm, disarming eyes. And although the wait - since they last saw each other last night in the supermarket - is only a day, it felt like an eternity to the insecure young man, who had completely dressed himself with utmost care in an armour of swagger and coolness (faithfully following Jake's script), plus he was all washed, clean and under a cloud of fresh cologne (the process of dressing and grooming up took its fair share of time).
Several times the thought crossed his mind whether he had perhaps forgotten something, something that could have further enhanced his attractiveness, but now that he was standing in front of the main entrance he calmed himself down; probably there was no one here at this party who was even cleaner, more well-groomed into perfection and neatly dressed than he was— he had literally taken half an hour to maximise his appearance with complete deliberation; an astonishing record for the boy who never really cared about his outside-appearance.
Selucas had transformed himself into a sparkling golden boy, truly glittering; a metamorphosis of a cute yet inconspicuous caterpillar into a beautiful, radiant butterfly!
However, the unpleasant, unexpected task and the long preparation had now delayed his arrival so much that he wondered whether Darcy was not already completely drunk, in a state of mind where she could no longer recognize him.... Selucas quickly cleared his mind and concentrated on the here and now, because speculating and being uncertain about possible situations was pointless anyway, such thoughts only slowed him down even more....
Sami Richenauer's mansion loomed above Selucas like a grand relic trying to cosplay as a rave. Lights spilled from every window like it was bleeding neon, and the air carried the lazy perfume of overripe flowers, spiked punch, and distant fire.
Selucas' steps felt oddly light, nerves fluttering somewhere low in his stomach. Selucas adjusted the waistband of his cargos carefully; just below the waistband of his ridiculously expensive 'elite' Aldorqvist boxershorts, showing the branded logo clearly (exactly how his master in swaggerhood had so admonishingly adamant urged him to do). The radiant golden boy exhaled slowly and stepped past the gate.
The party hit him like a slap of heat and volume— movement, shouting, laughter so casual and desperate it buzzed through the floorboards.
But he was here. Present. Committed. I'm going to do this!
Selucas moved through the crowd with cautious steps, his eyes scanning faces and his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his black cargo pants. The white long-sleeve shirt clung to his frame just right, highlighting a physique toned by carpentry and daily labour. Over it, the camel-toned utility jacket added weight to his presence— calm, composed and sharp. Every step he took, the Nike Air Force 1s gave him a subtle bounce. He felt good. Comfortable.
People noticed him. It still felt a bit strange. He wasn't used to being noticed, much less being admired. But as he passed clusters of girls whispering to each other, as a few eyes lingered a second longer than they should have. Selucas felt it— swagger; he was a sweet piece of velvet cake that made the young ladies ravenous in thirsty desire, making them yearn to take a bite of him, the fresh and new blond boy.
What would she think about me when she sees me now? Selucas was very tense. Or has she already forgotten about me? Maybe I'm coming here for nothing.... Despite his frantic attempts to wave away wavering and doubting thoughts, they still happened to return and torment him with uncertainty and possible bad and awkward scenarios.
And then, by pure accident, as he rounded the corner near the central bar area, he saw Jake. Selucas froze mid-step.
Jake stood with a glass in hand, one foot propped against the wall behind him, laughing at something Max had just said. His navy shirt fitted perfectly, sleeves rolled up to his elbow (beautifully showing off his strong, long forearms), bracelets glinting with casual elegance around his shapely wrists. His hair was styled back, slightly tousled, and the Balenciaga sneakers looked like they belonged in a museum display for 'rare and painfully expensive fashion artifacts.' He was the epitome of relaxed cool— until he turned, mid-laugh, and spotted Selucas.
The laugh died in his throat.
"Wait," Jake blinked once and stepping forward. "Selucas?!"
Selucas grinned, trying to downplay the sudden tension in the air. "Yeah," he said. "Hey, man."
Jake stared for a second longer, then walked over with an incredulous smile tugging at his lips. "What the hell— what are you doing here?" he asked, eyes narrowing playfully but with honest confusion.
Selucas scratched the back of his neck. "Uh.... Someone invited me. A girl I met yesterday. Just ran into her randomly at the store."
Jake raised his brows, lips curling in surprise. "A girl, huh?" he asked, tone tilting into mischief. "Didn't know my fashion apprentice already had admirers lining up."
Selucas laughed, a little awkwardly. "I wouldn't go that far."
Jake gave him a once-over, eyes tracing the cargo pants, the shirt, the jacket. His smirk widened, and he clapped Selucas on the shoulder. "Same outfit as yesterday," he said with approval. "But it hits even better under party lights. You look good, man. Really good."
Selucas shrugged modestly. "Guess you were right about the whole.... Dressing differently thing."
''Swagger, Selucas. Swagger,'' Jake said with a wink. "I told you it wasn't just about the clothes. It's the way you walk in them. And tonight? You walked in like you meant it."
The two talked for a while and Jake introduced Selucas to his friends, after a quarter of hour of fun and many lolzzz Jake leaned slightly closer to him and whispered: "I mean, not to pry, the girl you talked about is probably expecting to see you again. You should go find her."
''Oh, yeah,'' Selucas muttered, his cheeks blushing a bit, because he totally forgot about Darcy.
''Dude, you already forgotten about her?'' Jake laughed friendly. "You got personally invited to this. That's not casual. Go say hi before she thinks you ghosted."
Selucas grinned, grateful and still a little bewildered. "Thanks, Jake. Really. For everything. The clothes, the advice.... this whole confidence thing. You kinda started it."
Jake shrugged, but there was pride in his expression. "Hey. You did the hard part. I just opened the closet door. You're the one who decided to walk out of it looking like a damn model."
Selucas laughed again. "That sounded dangerously metaphorical."
Jake smirked. "Don't get too comfortable. Swagger doesn't mean becoming a smartass overnight."
"I'll try to pace myself."
They stood there a moment longer— just two guys in the eye of a party storm, surrounded by flashing lights and drunken laughter, yet wrapped in a brief cocoon of calm and camaraderie.
Jake finally tipped his glass toward the hallway. "Go on, Romeo. She's probably waiting."
Selucas nodded, took a breath, and turned toward the unknown. But before he disappeared into the crowd, Jake called after him.
"And Selucas?"
He looked back.
Jake grinned. "Proud of you, man."
''Pfff.... What you saying man....'' Selucas said, blushing even further. He lets me blush too much these last few days!
Selucas walked on. He paused at the threshold, his eyes scanning the patio until they locked onto her.
Darcy!
She was standing near the far end of the pool, her back to him, one hand resting delicately on the edge of a lounge chair. Fuck. She looks amazing. Selucas eyes were shamelessly pinned at her plunging neckline. He felt the blood pumping between his legs. Keep a hold on yourself. He thought annoyed at himself. Don't screw it up!
Selucas' breath caught for a moment. He hesitated. Should I just walk up to her? What if she doesn't even remember me?
And then— movement. I have to go!
Someone stepped between them.
A tall figure with shoulders set like a warning. His arms were crossed, the scuffed leather jacket pulling tight across his chest. His face was striking— tanned skin, razor-lined cheekbones, dark hair tousled like it had been shaped by both rebellion and wind. A lip ring glinted under the patio lights.
He stood directly in Selucas' path, a smirk curling the edge of his lips.
"You lost?" Jared asked, his tone low and dry, but loaded.
Selucas squared his shoulders. "No. Just looking for someone."
Jared arched a brow, his eyes flicking to Selucas' clothes— sharp, clean, urban. He scoffed softly. "You sure you're not here to model for the catalogue photos?"
Selucas didn't rise to it. "I was invited."
That made Jared laugh— just once, short and incredulous. "By who? Because you definitely don't look like the usual breed around here."
Selucas didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Jared's expression shifted slightly, tension slipping into his posture like oil into water. His voice dropped, darker now. "Was it Darcy?"
Before Selucas could reply, a new voice cut through the air— cool, clear, unmistakably amused.
"Yes, it was me."
Darcy stepped forward, heels clicking gently against the stone tiles. She came between them, a small smirk playing at her lips, eyes flicking from Jared to Selucas with deliberate slowness.
"Hi again," she said to Selucas, her tone light but laced with intent.
Selucas' mouth twitched into a smile. "Hey. You look.... Incredible."
Darcy tilted her head slightly, letting the compliment settle. "So do you. Same outfit as yesterday?"
Selucas chuckled. "Well, when something works, you don't mess with it."
"I agree," she said, eyes briefly dragging down his figure before flicking back up with a grin. "It definitely works."
Jared, still rooted a step behind, folded his arms tighter. "So, this is what we're doing now?" he asked Darcy, voice flat.
Darcy turned to him. "What we're doing doesn't concern you, Jared."
"You invited him?" he asked, not hiding the resentment anymore.
"I did," she replied calmly. "He was interesting. Kind. Uncomplicated."
Jared's jaw clenched. "Right. You go from setting the world on fire to sipping iced coffee with choir boys."
"Don't start," she said, her voice cool and final.
Selucas felt the air thicken between them. How can I put out this fire?
"Look," Selucas said quietly, glancing at Jared. "I didn't come here to cause problems."
Jared stepped in closer— too close. His voice was low, but sharp enough to cut. "You already did, pretty boy. Just by showing up."
Selucas held his ground. "Then maybe you should talk to her about that."
That earned a bitter laugh from Jared. "Oh, I've talked to her. Long enough to know when she's using someone to stir the pot."
"Maybe I'm not the one being used," Selucas replied, calmly but firmly.
Darcy looked between them, then stepped forward, placing a hand on Selucas' arm. Her touch was soft, but it anchored him.
"Let's go," she said, cutting all the crap at once. "Come with me, Selucas. It's not like I and Jared are a couple, far from it, even though he seems to think otherwise." she looked at Jared with one last annoyed glance that dripped off sour agitation, her facial expression told him: Don't let it get to your head, the bond we share is not what you think it is, you sack of shit. Fuck off and leave me be!
Jared didn't stop them. He just stood there, fists clenched at his sides, his face unreadable— rage masked under calm, or maybe the other way around.
Darcy led Selucas toward the poolside bench. They sat, her hand lingering on his forearm for just a second longer than necessary. The water rippled beside them, catching the lights and spinning them into gold and blue fragments.
"Sorry about that," she said quietly. "He gets.... Territorial."
"You two used to be a thing?" Selucas asked.
Darcy exhaled, her voice more tired now. "Something like that. In kindergarten, many years ago. Not anymore. We have our fun now and then, fun he mistakes for loving affection. Now he is just an old shadow acting like he still owns the light."
Selucas looked at her, trying to read her eyes. They were bright, yes— but not untouched. There were cracks behind the sparkle. Wounds wearing perfume and silver chains.
"You didn't have to defend me," he said.
"I didn't do it for you," she said with a sly grin. "I did it because I can't stand being told what to do."
Selucas smiled. "So.... Am I part of a rebellion now?"
She turned toward him, eyes warm but intense. "No. You're just.... A breath of fresh air. And I needed that tonight."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the pool shimmer.
For Selucas, the noise of the party had faded completely. There was only the sound of water, the faint pulse of music in the distance, and the quiet hum of something new starting to take shape.
Selucas felt it, but he could not describe it.
Darcy sat close to Selucas, their shoulders almost touching. Her perfume was subtle, earthy and sweet, like night-blooming flowers. The kind you don't notice right away— but once you do, it lingers in your lungs. Her eyes, sharp and bright earlier, now had a languid softness to them. Her posture had relaxed, spine curving slightly as she turned toward him.
Selucas gave a modest shrug, trying to play it cool. "I wasn't trying to prove anything. I just did what action I thought would fit right."
She smiled at that— genuine, almost touched. "You took the right action. And you were brave."
He turned his head, meeting her eyes. The light from the pool reflected in them, a flickering blue flame. He wanted to say something suave, something that would carry weight and wit. But nothing came out. Just a dry throat and an awkward shift in posture.
Darcy's eyes lingered on him for a second longer than comfortable. Then her hand, slow and deliberate, reached out. She let her fingers trail along the hem of his jacket, brushing lightly over the fabric as if testing the shape beneath. Her nails barely grazed the edge of his shirt.
"You look...." she began, pausing as if to choose the word carefully. "Familiar. Like someone I used to know. But different. Cuter. Gentler."
Selucas chuckled lightly, unsure how to take it. "Hopefully not too cute."
He tried to lean back, posture open and relaxed— Jake would've done that. But Selucas wasn't Jake, didn't dare to go too wide; his legs and arms were spread moderately, not teasing wide-open with lust and playfulness, like a man with full confidence would do. Come on, spread a little wider, try to tease her about something. Girls like that, like it when men teasing them a bit; that sparks up the mood and lifts up the thrill.
Darcy noticed his insecurity— she smirked, the corner of her lips curling. "Trying to look tough?" she teased, her fingers now brushing closer— gliding across his thigh, approaching the crotch of his cargos with sensual suspension. The contact was fleeting but intentional. Warmth bloomed from the spots where here elegant fingers passed, the heat in his private parts was spreading fast. Selucas' flesh tightened without his consent; primal instinct had taken over.
Selucas' breath hitched, just slightly. He clenched his jaw, trying to stay composed. He was at loss of what to do now, so he answered that teasing question of her (he doubted if that was what she wanted, maybe that question was meant pure rhetorical and she wants to just kiss or make love now....): "Not trying," he said, voice a bit hoarse. "Just.... You know. Casual."
"Mmh," she hummed. "You don't need to try. There's something raw about you. Something unpolished but.... Real." Her hand rested very close to his crotch now, not pressing, just resting. But the proximity, the intimacy of it, was undeniable. Selucas wondered if she could now feel stiffness of his flesh.
Selucas glanced down for half a second, then back at her. "You always this forward?" He tried to say as laid-back as possible.
Darcy leaned in, their noses inches apart. "Only when someone makes me feel something."
Her lips hovered close, not touching, but close enough to feel the heat. The teasing breath, the slight tilt of her head. Selucas could smell the faint traces of mint and wine on her breath, could hear the tremble in his own. I have to do it.
He leaned toward her, trying to channel the boldness Jake had always carried so effortlessly. At the last second, his nerve faltered. His lips veered, and instead of kissing her mouth, he landed a soft, awkward peck on her cheek.
It was quick. Too quick.
Darcy blinked. Not surprised. She stayed silent, looking at him with a mysterious, benign smile.
Selucas pulled back, suddenly burning with regret. Why didn't I go for the lips? Was that too safe? Too soft? Did I just make myself look like a boy too afraid to be a man?
He laughed nervously. "Sorry, I.... Uh.... Got caught in the moment."
Darcy chuckled. ''Let the tempo be,'' she said, adding with a mysterious tone: ''It's no fun speeding up too much.''
The two of them sat for a while, had a conversation that was going smoother with every word, and after a short while they stood up. Darcy led him toward her friends and introduced him to them. After that they did a beer game in a secluded part of the mansion; this was quite an ordeal for Selucas, as he was not used to drink alcohol.
Well, the things went quickly downhill for him, and he got numb and drunk to the edge. Darcy ordered him to go home to rest and recover, of course, he tried to play it off cool, but to no avail; she could see through him like he was a plastic shopping bag. In the end he left the party with only a big headache, thanks to Darcy's sharp observance.