The bass hit the moment they stepped in. Lights flickered in every direction—blue, purple, gold.
People swayed, laughed, drinks in hand. The air smelled like perfume, sweat, and cheap vodka.
Jordan leaned close. "Told you it'd be packed."
Luca scanned the room. Heads turned. A few girls whispered, a guy near the bar gave him a once-over.
He didn't flinch—just smirked and walked further in.
"Sophie's probably upstairs already," Jordan said.
"I'll find her later," Luca replied, already slipping past a couple slow-dancing near the stairs.
"Luca?" a girl called.
He turned. Blonde, short red dress, holding a cocktail. "Hey."
She smiled wide. "I knew you'd come."
"Sophie?"
"Duh."
He smiled. "Nice dress."
"I know," she winked, then grabbed his hand. "C'mon, let's dance."
He didn't protest. The music shifted—low beat, heavy bass. Her hands found his shoulders.
She was close, grinning, but Luca's gaze wandered. Across the room, someone was watching. A guy, tall, sharp jaw, lip ring. He raised a glass when their eyes met.
Luca grinned.
Sophie noticed. "You always flirt with everyone?"
"Only when I feel like it," he said smoothly.
She laughed, spinning away, then back into him. "Don't disappear without saying goodbye."
"I'll try," he said.
Jordan reappeared with drinks. "For you," he handed one to Luca, then looked between him and Sophie. "I see the night's off to a strong start."
"You know me," Luca said, sipping. The drink stung. He welcomed it.
They danced. Talked. Another girl slid in. Then a guy. Luca let it all happen. He was fluid—never still, never too attached. Just there, and that was enough.
"No thoughts worth chasing—just the beat, heavy enough to drown the ones he kept locking away."
Bodies blurred. Faces flickered. It was easier like this—moving without meaning.
Hours blurred. The music never let up.
Someone handed Luca another drink. He didn't ask who. Just took it, lips curling at the bitter hit of alcohol.
"You're trouble, you know that?" a guy whispered near his ear. Curly hair, leather jacket, a little older.
Luca raised an eyebrow. "So I've heard."
The guy chuckled, lingering. A hand brushed Luca's back. He didn't move away, but he didn't lean in either.
"Stick around," the guy said, then vanished into the crowd.
Sophie slid back beside him, glitter on her cheeks, hair wild. "You look like you're having fun."
"I am."
She held his gaze. "That's rare for you."
"Don't read too much into it."
"Too late," she laughed.
Jordan appeared again, breathless, shirt half untucked. "They're doing shots in the kitchen, come on."
They followed. The kitchen was cramped, sticky floors, someone yelling over everyone else.
Luca leaned on the counter, watching the chaos. A girl handed him a shot. He clinked it with Jordan's and downed it fast.
Someone bumped into him—then stayed. It was the same guy from earlier, leather jacket.
"You always this calm in parties?"
"Depends on who's asking."
The guy grinned. "Name's Leo."
"Luca."
"Cool name."
"I know."
Leo laughed. "You got someone waiting for you?"
Luca shook his head slowly. "Not tonight."
Leo tilted his head, gaze lingering. "Then maybe I'll wait."
But Luca had already turned, back into the crowd. He didn't look back. It wasn't rejection—just him moving. Drifting. Enjoying.
People touched his shoulder, brushed past with smiles. Everyone wanted a piece of him. But he never stayed too long in one place.
One more drink. One more dance. Another flirt, another near kiss, another name he wouldn't remember.
He was the center of the storm, and he didn't mind.
The party didn't slow.
Luca leaned against the railing of the upstairs balcony, catching a breath. Music still pulsed below, laughter echoing from every corner.
"Escaping already?" a voice asked beside him.
He turned.
"He stood with the kind of ease that didn't need permission—tall, sharp jawline, dark eyes steady like he wasn't afraid of silence."
He held a half-empty cup and leaned on the railing beside him like they'd done this before.
"Not escaping," Luca said. "Just watching the storm."
"I'm Ezra."
"Luca."
Ezra smirked. "Figured."
"You say that like it's a good or bad thing."
"Neither," Ezra said. "Just... fits."
They stood in silence a moment, the noise below making space for something quieter between them.
Ezra looked out at the streetlights. "I've seen you around campus. Thought you didn't show up to these kinds of things."
"I usually don't," Luca said.
Ezra glanced sideways. "Lucky night, then."
Luca met his gaze. No games, no lines. Just clean, steady energy. "You here alone?"
"Yeah," Ezra said. "Friends ditched early. I stayed for the music—and now maybe for you."
Luca raised a brow, smirking. "Bold."
Ezra shrugged, still calm. "I don't say things I don't mean."
Someone called Luca's name from downstairs, but he didn't move.
Ezra nodded to the cup in his hand. "Wanna grab another drink?"
"Sure," Luca said, falling into step beside him.
Downstairs again. Music louder. Closer. Ezra handed him a drink, their fingers brushing. It wasn't deliberate. It just happened.
They found a quiet edge of the room, where the bass thumped through the walls but they could still talk.
Ezra was funny—dry wit, fast comebacks. He didn't try to impress Luca. Just talked.
They laughed. Luca's fingers curled around his glass a little tighter. Ezra's knee brushed his—didn't move. Neither of them pulled back.
The world thinned to just them, even as the party roared around them.
At one point, Ezra looked at him, serious for a second. "You always look like you're somewhere else in your head."
"Maybe I am."
Ezra nodded. "Or maybe you just haven't had a reason to stay yet."
Luca looked at him then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
He could've laughed, could've said something clever—but all he did was hold the silence, because maybe... maybe Ezra wasn't wrong.
"He didn't move—because for the first time all night, standing still didn't feel like a trap."