Chapter 1:Seventeen Again
Chapter 1: Seventeen Again
"I'm... I'm so sorry..."
Cold wine splashed across Luna's face.
The alcohol hit her nose. Sharp. Her mind snapped clear.
One of her girls shoved a towel at her, hands shaking.
Luna took it. Her eyes swept the room, glassy and lost.
The girl in front of her stammered an apology. Banquet uniform. Small face, light makeup. The kind of pretty that made people want to protect her.
It was Rory.
But not the Rory who'd made it into an Ivy League and built a life that had it all.
This was seventeen-year-old Rory. Still raw. Still unpolished.
And this moment. Luna would never forget it. Not in this lifetime. Not in any.
At seventeen, she'd attended a banquet like any other. A server spilled wine all over her.
The heiress's brand-new gown was ruined. She'd thrown a fit on the spot.
And Hayes had stepped in to defend the server.
That was when Luna noticed Rory for the first time. Luna, who'd always looked down on everyone.
After that, the girl wouldn't leave. She showed up everywhere. Uninvited. Unshakable.
Luna grabbed the towel and dragged it across her face. Careless.
In those few seconds, her free hand dropped to her thigh. She pinched. Hard.
The sting shot through her. It was real. She was really, truly back at seventeen.
This was the last golden stretch. The final days she'd be the Harrington heiress.
She died in her last life. Only then did she understand. Why she could never beat Rory.
The world was one giant destined-fate romance trope. Everyone had a role to play.
Rory was the heroine. Beautiful and broke. Alcoholic, abusive father. Spineless stepmother. A stepbrother who radiated cold hostility.
She'd started at rock bottom. Clawed her way into an elite prep school on grades alone. Landed in the same class as the hero, Hayes.
Hayes. Devil-may-care. A revolving door of girlfriends. Heir to an old money dynasty. And of course, a fiancée matched to him in social standing.
A playboy like that, and he still gave it all up for the heroine. Became fiercely loyal.
It would've been a beautiful love story. If only Luna hadn't been the fiancée on the losing end.
Her purpose? To be the stepping stone. The obstacle that made their love story sweeter.
An old money heiress who kept picking fights with the heroine. Got shut down by the hero every single time.
And then came the fall of the Harringtons.
Luna ended up so broke she could barely afford a cramped studio. Her last meal was a DoorDash order she tipped zero on.
She died young. A gas leak from the unit next door.
Twenty-two years old.
-
"What's wrong with you?" the banquet manager barked, terrified of angering a Harrington.
Rory bit her lower lip, swaying on her feet. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to—"
"An apology doesn't fix—" the manager started.
"That's enough." A low voice cut in.
The manager's jaw snapped shut.
Hayes stood tall in a white suit, tailored sharp. His mother was a movie star. He'd gotten her face. The kind that turned heads. Sharp jaw. Dark eyes. A mouth that said he'd never been told no.
His eyes found Luna. "We're classmates. No need to make this a thing."
"Hayes..."
Rory's voice cracked on his name. She looked at him like he'd hung the moon. Luna's stomach turned.
Luna finished wiping her face. Watched the two of them. Almost laughed out loud.
*Luna, you absolute idiot.*
She'd burned her whole life to the ground over these two.
"I'm not making things hard for anyone." Luna's voice came out level. Almost bored. In her last life, she would've lost it on the spot. Demanded to know why Hayes kept shielding every girl but her.
"This gown? Limited edition. My mom had it flown in. Cost a fortune."
"I wore it less than two hours before wine hit it. Someone's paying for that."
The words barely landed before her girls fell over themselves to agree.
"Yeah. She's gotta pay for that."
"Obviously. This fabric's a nightmare. Even water leaves marks, let alone wine."
Rory bit her lip. "How much?" Barely a whisper.
Luna scoffed. "Classmate discount. I'll drop the change. Nine hundred thousand."
"Nine... nine hundred thousand?"
Rory's eyes bugged out.
*What kind of dress costs that much?*
*Is Luna trying to rip her off?*
"You can't scam me just because I'm broke." Her voice shook. But her chin lifted. Stubborn.
Luna hadn't even spoken. The girls around them lost it. Snickering behind their hands.
The laughter hit Rory's ears like needles.
Precise. Targeted. Straight into the cracks of pride she'd been holding together.
Her eyes shot to Hayes. Pleading.
Hayes pressed his lips thin. Opened his mouth.
"Don't." Luna's voice cut in. Flat. Final. "Keep your mouth shut. This has nothing to do with you."
Hayes went still.
He'd known Luna since they were kids. She'd always been all smiles around him. Laughs. Warmth.
He'd never heard that tone from her before.
The gown was soaked through, clinging to her skin. Luna needed out of it. Now.
She closed the distance to Rory.
Rory barely cleared five-four. Luna stood nearly five-seven.
Luna patted Rory's shoulder. Leaned down. Her hair fell forward. Wine and jasmine. "Look it up online if you don't believe me. You've got two days. School starts Monday. I'll send you my bank info then."
She dropped the words and walked. Didn't look back once.
Black silk traced her back. Her hair swayed with each step.
Hayes and Rory stood rooted to the spot. Neither said a word.
-
The door of the changing room clicked shut. The grin Luna had been fighting finally broke free.
She peeled off the ruined gown and pulled on a simple dress. Hit the bed face-first. Pulled out her phone and checked her WhatsApp and Venmo balances.
A string of zeros that went on forever.
She could breathe again.
In her last life, Luna thought love was everything. Money? Useless.
Then the family collapsed. Her father took the fall for his brother and went to prison. Her mother was committed to a psychiatric ward. And Leo, her lovesick little brother, walked into the underground black market to sell a kidney. For designer bags. For a girl who didn't love him back. The wound went septic. He died at twenty.
Luna was left with nothing. No family. No money. Not even a name worth claiming.
Be truly poor once. Just once. And you'll learn what money's worth.
She lay there for a few minutes. Then flagged a cab. She needed to move.
They passed Kingsley Prep. Luna turned to the window.
Her old school.
Kingsley Prep. New York's most elite prep school. Tuition: half a million a year. Every student faced a background check deeper than a government clearance. The campus was old European architecture. Soaring castle walls. The kind of grandeur that made you forget normal people existed.
Weekend. The gates that usually choked with cars sat wide and empty.
At the bus stop, a boy stood with a backpack slung over one shoulder. White earbud cord vanishing into his pocket.
A camphor tree spread thick and green overhead. It cut the glare into patches of light.
Light and shadow played across him.
He kept his eyes down. Features sharp, clean. Like nothing around him was worth his time.
Everything about him read cold. Remote. The kind of beautiful that made you look twice. Then keep walking.
Jax.
"Stop the car."
