My head felt like it was about to explode. A dull ache pulsed behind my eyes, followed by a growing sense of regret for having started drinking at Vanessa's place the night before—and especially for not stopping after that. Every thought came heavy and slow, as if my mind were wrapped in fog.
I sat carefully on the edge of the bed, still confused, trying not to worsen the hammering sensation inside my skull. I had no idea what time it was, but the sunlight pouring through the window made it clear that it was already well past mid-morning.
I missed my classes.
The thought came with a tired sigh. That wasn't normal for me. Even on bad days, I usually showed up. But in that state, there was no chance.
That was when my eyes drifted behind me.
Bianca was sleeping deeply. She lay on her stomach, her body stretched out across the bed in a relaxed way, like someone carrying no worries at all in that moment. Despite the confusion dominating my mind, the scene was… beautiful. Uncomfortably beautiful.
I watched her sleeping face, her peaceful expression so different from the sharp, provocative posture she usually wore when awake. My eyes followed the smooth line of her back until they inevitably settled on her naked ass, perfectly shaped. Round. Firm. I let out a low sigh, longer than I intended.
If what I'm imagining really happened… how am I supposed to deal with this now?
The question echoed unanswered.
I stood up carefully, avoiding any sudden movement. My head throbbed, and each step felt deliberate, demanding effort. I left the bedroom completely naked and went downstairs to the living room, the cooler air offering a small relief to the heat in my body.
The scene was a clear portrait of excess from the night before.
Beer cans were scattered across the floor—some crushed, others still half full. On the table sat the vodka bottle I had gotten from Vanessa's father, opened, with more than half of its contents gone. Considering how much I had already drunk before getting home, that perfectly explained both the hangover… and the massive hole in my memory.
Not just the headache, but the complete blackout.
I walked over to where my clothes were tossed on the floor and began rummaging through the pockets automatically. In one of them, I found my phone. The screen lit up sluggishly, just like my eyes.
10:43.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Yeah. I missed all my morning classes. And given my current state, there was no way I could make it to the afternoon ones either. My body demanded only one thing: rest. But before that, I needed a shower.
Normally, I'd take a cold shower—something quick to shock the hangover away. But that day, I just couldn't. I went back upstairs and prepared the bathtub, filling it with warm water. When I got in, I felt my muscles finally loosen. I closed my eyes, letting the water envelop my body, trying to ignore the persistent buzzing in my ears.
For about twenty minutes, I found a strange kind of peace.
Until it was interrupted.
The bathroom door opened.
I opened my eyes immediately and saw Bianca step in—completely naked. My gaze traveled over her body by pure reflex, from her feet to her head, before settling on her eyes.
We stared at each other in silence.
The bathroom seemed frozen in time. There was something strange about that moment, a confusing mix of emotions passing through her eyes—and mine as well. Doubt, curiosity, caution… and something harder to name.
I was about to break the silence when Bianca spoke first.
"The water's nice?"
The tone was far too casual for the situation. Natural. Almost intimate.
Before I could react, she walked to the tub, placed one foot inside, and stepped in without hesitation. In the process, her body passed dangerously close to mine. She sat down in front of me, between my legs, resting her back against my chest as if that were the most normal thing in the world.
My brain simply shut down.
She moved with such ease that, for a moment, it felt like we were a couple used to that kind of intimacy, relaxing together after a long night. I caught the faint scent of alcohol on her skin. Bianca was probably hungover too.
And with her pressed against me like that, my body reacted before any rational thought could interfere.
"Luke…" she began, breaking the silence again. "I don't like you. But I don't hate you either. I don't know how to explain it. Do you understand?"
That caught me off guard.
For the first time in years, Bianca was talking to me without irony, without insults, without trying to belittle me. I stayed silent, waiting for her to mention the night before.
"The important thing is that you have something I like," she continued, sliding her hand down to my cock under the water. "Yesterday… the reason doesn't matter. We crossed a line. And I'm not going to deny it. We had sex."
The confirmation came bluntly, without hesitation.
Yeah. We crossed a line.
I decided not to push. If she didn't want to talk about what led us there, I'd respect that. Maybe it was too embarrassing for her to admit. I kept listening while she slowly stroked my already hard cock beneath the warm water.
"Judging by how you are right now, I'm guessing you'd like to do it again," she said, with that familiar arrogant tone. "After all, I'm beautiful and hot. Obviously you'd want to."
I rolled my eyes internally. Typical Bianca.
"We can make a deal."
"What kind of deal?" I asked, playing along.
"We can keep having sex. But in return, you make me your priority. If I ask, you do it. You buy it. You treat me like the princess I am. If you do that… I'll let you have me again."
The silence that followed was broken by a sincere laugh escaping my lips.
It wasn't loud. But it was enough.
Bianca fell silent immediately.
Did she really think I'd agree to become what—an emotional servant? One of the guys who orbit around her for scraps?
With a firm movement, I pushed myself up. Bianca leaned forward, allowing me to step out of the tub, and looked at me. Any interest my body had shown disappeared instantly.
"That's not happening, Bianca," I said calmly. "I barely remember what happened last night. And honestly, you're hot as hell. But I'm not going to be another ass-kisser. And just so we're clear… I already have a sexual friend."
She stayed silent, her gaze darkening.
"If you want to become my sexual friend too, then you're the one who needs to change your attitude," I added with a low, mocking chuckle as I left the bathroom.
I couldn't resist poking exactly where it hurt. Bianca remained frozen in the tub for a few seconds, as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard. Her face flushed—not with embarrassment, but with pure irritation. A sharp "shut up" slipped through her teeth. I didn't reply. I'd said enough.
I left the bathroom still feeling the weight of the hangover in my body and head. Each step felt heavier than the last. I went straight to the bed, collapsed onto it without care, and pulled the sheets over myself. The world needed to be quiet for a few hours. My phone buzzed somewhere in the room—messages from Nathan and Vanessa, probably—but I ignored them completely. I didn't have the mental energy for interactions, explanations, or inconvenient questions.
I closed my eyes as darkness filled the room. At some point, I heard footsteps in the hallway. Bianca passed by the door but didn't come in. She didn't say anything. Neither did I. I just needed to sleep. I needed to forget.
…
Thursday passed in an oddly normal way, which in itself was strange. Routine forced itself back in, despite everything that had happened. My relationship with Bianca was… different. Before, she barely spoke to me; now, she spoke even less, but the silence carried a different weight. It wasn't indifference. It was tense, charged, like unspoken words hanging in the air.
Nathan showed genuine concern about me skipping class the day before. He asked if I was okay, if something serious had happened. Vanessa, on the other hand, seemed more excited than worried—she insisted several times that we have lunch together, as if she wanted to repeat the night before or simply make sure I didn't disappear again.
I ended up seeing them separately and gave simple, almost automatic explanations. I told Nathan I had overslept. I told Vanessa I was hungover from drinking at her place. Neither was a complete lie, nor the full truth. At no point did I mention Bianca. That was something I still didn't know how—or if—I should deal with.
On Friday, I returned to the university as if nothing had happened. My body still felt a bit heavy, but my mind worked better. I arrived early and spent time talking nonsense with Nathan—random comments, stupid jokes, complaints about professors and upcoming exams. It was comforting to pretend everything was normal, even if just for a few minutes.
Then someone placed a bag on the empty seat beside me.
I looked up and saw perfectly styled black hair and striking blue eyes. Olivia. She greeted me with an open, radiant smile—one that drew attention effortlessly.
"Good morning, Luke."
"Hello, Olivia," I replied, a little surprised but keeping my composure.
If before I had seen her as a distant, almost untouchable presence, now I could consider her a classmate. Maybe even something more, though I didn't yet know what. Olivia sat down beside me without hesitation. I immediately felt the hostile stares from the pathetic followers who constantly orbited around her. It was almost amusing—jealousy, envy, frustration written all over their faces. Mediocre people.
Olivia greeted Nathan politely as well, then leaned slightly toward me, lowering her voice.
"There's a party tonight," she said. "I'd like you to go, Luke."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by her directness.
"Honestly," she continued, now almost whispering, "I'm kind of being forced to go by the other girls in the program. You know how it is… I'm popular. If I go, the guys go. The more people, the more money they make." She made a small grimace. "I just wanted there to be at least someone there I'd feel comfortable with."
Her honesty caught me off guard. I never imagined Olivia would say something like that, especially to me. But thinking about it, it made sense. I never treated her like a trophy or someone untouchable. To me, she was always just… a normal person.
I glanced at Nathan. He immediately understood what this meant and simply nodded, silently confirming he'd go too. He knew I wouldn't go alone.
"Sure, I'll go," I replied after a few seconds. "I think it could be fun."
Olivia's smile widened, genuine.
And just like that, without realizing it, I had gotten myself into another party.
With the strange feeling that the night ahead might change more than I was ready to admit.