Obsession

Neon lights flashed in erratic patterns, painting the crowded room in shades of pink, blue, and green. The air was thick with the pounding bass of EDM and the overlapping chatter of partygoers. It was the kind of place that screamed rebellion, chaos, and bad decisions.

Eria Solomon didn’t belong here. She knew it, and so did her conscience, which had been screaming ever since she walked through the doors.

What are you even doing here, Eria? her inner voice nagged. You hate loud music, and you hate crowds. And look at these people—dancing like lunatics. This is Vanora’s world, not yours.

Vanora Vukasin—wild child, queen of the party, and today’s birthday girl—had begged her to come. And Eria, being the good friend she was, couldn’t say no. That’s how she found herself in The Howling Wolf, a nightclub owned by Vanora’s uncle, Constantine Vukasin, a man known for running the most scandalous venues in the city.

They were seventeen. All five of them. They shouldn’t even be here. But Vanora’s last name was practically a golden ticket in this place, and no one dared question her.

At their table, the evidence of chaos was clear—empty beer glasses were scattered everywhere, and the faint smell of frosting clung to the air from the remnants of Vanora’s birthday cake.

“So, what do you want to drink?” Nevan Rogue, their sharp-tongued, smooth-talking friend, leaned closer to Eria. His jet-black hair was perfectly tousled, and he wore a smirk that somehow looked permanent.

“Just... anything without alcohol,” Eria said cautiously, her hands clutching the edge of the table.

Nevan raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes glinting under the strobe lights. “Got it, Miss Good Girl.” He strolled off to the bar, weaving through the crowd with a confidence only Nevan could muster.

Eria took a small bite of cake, trying to block out the overwhelming noise. Across the table, Nicholas Lancaster and Vanora were singing some horrendous mashup of two different songs, completely off-key. Nicholas, ever the drama king, was waving a fork in the air as if conducting an invisible orchestra.

Liya Grimaldi, meanwhile, was slumped against the booth, muttering nonsense in her sleep. She had started the night loudly proclaiming she could drink anyone under the table. Now, she was out cold. Typical Liya.

Eria tried to ignore the couples making out in the darker corners of the club. Her inner voice, of course, wasn’t going to let her.

Ugh, seriously? In public? Gross. Don’t people have homes for that?

Vanora suddenly plopped down beside Eria, her red curls sticking out in all directions, and a mischievous grin plastered on her face. “Eriaaa,” she slurred, dragging out her name like a child. “I need your help.”

Eria raised an eyebrow. “With what?”

Vanora leaned in close, her breath reeking of beer. “Kaiza,” she whispered dramatically.

Eria blinked. “Kaiza? My cousin Kaiza?”

Vanora nodded eagerly, her curls bouncing. “Yeah! I think... I think I’m in love with him.”

Oh, no.

“Vanora, you’re drunk,” Eria said quickly, hoping to shut this conversation down before it went anywhere.

“I’m serious!” Vanora pouted. “He’s so cool, and hot, and... ugh, I can’t! And you—you’re his cousin. You’ve gotta help me!”

“I barely talk to Kaiza,” Eria admitted.

“But you know him!” Vanora whined, shaking Eria’s arm like a child begging for candy. “What does he like? What do I do to make him like me?”

Eria sighed. Her conscience chimed in again. "Great. Now you’re a love guru. Just what you needed."

“Well,” she said slowly, “he likes hockey. He’s got a big match coming up, so maybe you could... I don’t know, wish him good luck or something?”

Vanora’s eyes lit up like she’d just heard the most brilliant plan in the world. “Yes! The match! I’ll go! Oh my god, Eria, you’re a genius!”

“Please don’t make a scene,” Eria muttered under her breath.

As Vanora started babbling about how she’d paint her face with Kaiza’s jersey number, Nevan returned with a tall glass of something pink and fizzy.

“Here,” he said, sliding it over to Eria. “No alcohol, as requested.”

Eria took a cautious sip. It was sweet and fruity, with just a hint of something spicy. Not bad.

" Thanks," she said, grateful for the small reprieve.

Nevan smirked. “Anytime, Miss Solomon.”

Just survive tonight, her conscience reminded her. "Then you can go back to your books and tea and normal, quiet life."

---

Kaiza Solomon slammed his locker shut with enough force to make it rattle. His phone buzzed relentlessly in his pocket, but he ignored it, pacing the small space outside the school gym. His dark eyes were clouded with irritation, and his jaw was clenched tight.

“Kaiza,” Bella Solomon’s voice came from behind him, filled with concern and panic. “You need to go get Eria. Now.”

Kaiza turned to face his younger sister, his expression hardening. “What?”

“She’s at The Howling Wolf,” Bella said quickly, wringing her hands. “She told me earlier. I didn’t think she’d actually go, but now I’m worried.”

Kaiza ran a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to process this information. “How do you even know she’s there?!”

“Because she told me!” Bella shot back, her tone sharp. “She’s with Vanora and the others, and you know what that place is like.”

Kaiza let out a string of curses under his breath. He hated everything about this. Hated the club, hated the chaos, hated the fact that he now had to step in and fix this.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll get her.”

“And don’t go alone,” Bella added.

Kaiza didn’t need to be told twice. He texted a few of his friends—Michael West, Owen Fletcher, Matthew Hale, and Xavier Hayes. Within minutes, they were piled into his car, heading straight for the nightclub.

“How exactly are we getting in?” Owen asked as Kaiza parked.

“Leave it to me,” Michael said with a confident grin.

Sure enough, Michael strolled up to the entrance, handed the bouncer a wad of cash, and waved the others inside like it was the easiest thing in the world.

---

Inside, the club was as chaotic as Kaiza had imagined. Neon lights pulsed to the beat of the music, and the air reeked of beer, sweat, and cigarette smoke. Kaiza’s temper was already wearing thin when Michael suddenly grabbed his arm.

“There,” Michael said, pointing toward a booth.

Kaiza’s gaze followed and locked onto Eria. She was sitting stiffly, holding a bright pink drink, while Vanora was practically draped over her, laughing at something ridiculous. Nevan Rogue lounged nearby, looking as unbothered as ever.

“Eria!” Kaiza called sharply, his deep voice cutting through the noise.

Eria’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in shock. “Kaiza?!”

Kaiza stormed over, his tall frame casting a shadow over the table. Vanora’s face lit up like Christmas.

“Oh my God, Kaiza!” Vanora exclaimed, quickly pulling out a compact mirror and fixing her makeup.

Eria couldn’t stop staring. Kaiza’s face was set in a fierce scowl, his jaw tight with barely restrained anger. For some reason, she found herself gulping down her saliva, feeling like a kid caught sneaking cookies.

Michael, meanwhile, wasted no time sliding into the booth beside Nevan. “So, whose birthday is it?” he asked casually. Without waiting for an answer, he reached over, grabbed a piece of cake, and stuffed it into his mouth.

“Seriously, Michael?” Kaiza muttered, rubbing his temples.

Eria’s eyes drifted to the rest of Kaiza’s crew as they approached. Owen and Matthew were already joking with each other, their easy-going energy a stark contrast to Kaiza’s simmering frustration. Then there was Xavier Hayes, the hockey captain and the school’s golden boy.

Xavier stood slightly apart from the group, his sharp, introverted demeanor giving him an air of mystery. His eyes scanned the room, briefly meeting Eria’s before she quickly looked away.

Vanora, now perfectly prepped, offered Kaiza a drink with a sly smile. “Want something to loosen up? You look tense.”

“No, thanks,” Kaiza said curtly, his attention focused entirely on Eria.

Matthew clapped Kaiza on the back. “Come on, man. Join us for once! You’re always so serious.”

Kaiza ignored him, leaning closer to Eria. “What are you doing here, Eria?”

“I—Vanora invited me,” Eria stammered, feeling uncomfortably small under his gaze.

“And you didn’t think to say no?” Kaiza’s voice was sharp, but there was an undertone of worry.

Before Eria could respond, Vanora cut in, sliding closer to Kaiza. “Kaiza, relax. She’s fine. It’s my birthday. Let her have fun!”

Kaiza shot her a look that could have frozen fire. “Fun? In a place like this?”

Eria’s conscience piped up unhelpfully. This is your fault, Eria. You should’ve stayed home.

Meanwhile, Michael was happily chatting with Nevan, who didn’t seem bothered by the sudden influx of new people. “This cake’s not bad,” Michael said, licking frosting off his fingers.

Nicholas ignored Kaiza’s scowl and leaned closer. “Hey, Kaiza. I heard you and Xavier are gonna crush it.”

Eria stiffened at the mention of Xavier. She’d overheard rumors—ones she wasn’t sure she believed. People whispered that Xavier was gay and that his partner was... Kaiza.

She glanced at Kaiza and Xavier, but neither of them seemed to acknowledge the rumors. Xavier simply stood near the table, his calm, unreadable expression intact.

Vanora, however, wasn’t done. “Seriously, Kaiza. Have a drink. Relax.”

Kaiza sighed, clearly at his limit. “Vanora, you’re drunk. Sit down before you embarrass yourself.”

Vanora pouted but obeyed, still sneaking glances at him.

Kaiza turned back to Eria. “Finish your drink. We’re leaving.”

Eria nodded quickly, not wanting to argue. She knew better than to test Kaiza when he was like this.

Across the table, Xavier finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. “Maybe we should all go.”

Kaiza nodded in agreement. “Exactly my point.”

---

Kaiza’s patience had run dry. He stood outside The Howling Wolf, running a hand through his already messy hair. His dark eyes were stormy as he barked orders at the group.

“Owen, you’re taking Vanora home,” Kaiza said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Owen who had been happily munching on a stolen piece of cake, raised an eyebrow. “What? Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one who can tolerate her right now,” Kaiza shot back, nodding toward Vanora, who was wobbling on her heels, still trying to fix her smeared lipstick.

“Fine, fine,” Owen sighed, grabbing Vanora by the arm. “Come on, birthday girl. Let’s get you out of here before you start singing again.”

Vanora pouted but let herself be dragged away, still glancing over her shoulder at Kaiza.

Kaiza turned to Eria. “You’re with Xavier.”

“What?” Eria blinked, startled.

“You’re going home with Xavier,” Kaiza repeated. “I’ll follow up with Michael and Matthew later.”

Xavier, who had been leaning casually against his motorcycle, pushed off and straightened up. His calm, measured expression didn’t falter.

“Come on,” he said simply, gesturing for Eria to follow him.

Eria hesitated for a moment before trailing behind Xavier to his sleek black motorcycle. She wasn’t sure what felt more intimidating—the roaring engine or Xavier’s quiet presence.

He pulled out an extra helmet from the bike’s side compartment and handed it to her. “Here. Put this on.”

Eria quickly took it, fumbling slightly in her haste. She pulled it over her head, the snug fit making her feel oddly self-conscious.

Xavier climbed onto the bike and glanced back at her. “What’s your address?”

Eria gave it to him softly, and he nodded, waiting for her to get on.

She approached hesitantly, her heart racing. Climbing onto the bike felt strange, like crossing some invisible line. She awkwardly settled onto the seat behind Xavier, her hands hovering uncertainly.

“Hold on,” Xavier said over his shoulder, his voice calm but firm.

Eria’s hands twitched. She couldn’t bring herself to grab him outright, so she lightly touched the back of his jacket instead, her fingers barely grazing the material.

Xavier didn’t say anything, but she thought she saw the corner of his mouth twitch, as though he was amused.

The ride home was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the rush of wind. Eria felt tense the entire time, her mind racing with thoughts about everything that had happened tonight.

When they finally pulled up to her house, Eria felt a wave of relief. She quickly slid off the bike, tugging the helmet off her head.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, handing the helmet back to Xavier.

He took it without a word, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he nodded.

As Eria turned toward her house, the front door opened, and she froze.

Her father, Miguel Solomon, stepped out, his sharp eyes immediately landing on her.

“Eria?” he said, his tone filled with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

Eria stiffened, clutching her bag tightly.

Miguel’s gaze shifted to Xavier, who was still seated on the motorcycle, watching the scene unfold with his usual calm demeanor.

A small smile tugged at Miguel’s lips. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Eria’s face turned bright red. “No! He’s not—he’s just—Kaiza sent him to drop me off!”

Miguel chuckled softly, clearly unconvinced. “Mm-hmm. Well, whoever he is, tell him thank you.”

Eria nodded quickly, her face burning with embarrassment. She turned back to Xavier, who still hadn’t said a word.

“Thanks again,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Xavier gave her a small nod, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he revved the engine and sped off into the night, leaving Eria standing awkwardly in the driveway.

Miguel chuckled again, shaking his head as he stepped back inside. “Teenagers.”

Eria sighed and followed him in, her mind swirling with a mix of relief, embarrassment, and something she couldn’t quite place.

TBC.