A middle-aged man in a navy-blue suit walked over with an enthusiastic expression. His face was slightly flushed—maybe from the wine warming his body or perhaps from excitement he could barely contain.“My God, I can hardly believe you’re really here!” he said, his voice brimming with excitement as his eyes lit up when they met mine. “I have to thank Marcus for bringing you to this event.”I smiled warmly and extended my hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr...?”“Richard Calloway,” he said quickly, shaking my hand a bit too firmly, like a fan unwilling to miss his chance. “But please, call me Richard. I’m one of the hosts tonight. And Maya, I have to admit... I’m a huge fan.”I chuckled softly, easing my hand out of his grasp with practiced elegance. “Oh? That’s interesting.”Richard laughed, sounding almost nervous. “No, seriously! I’ve followed your career since your first indie film. Scarlet Ruins, right?”I raised an eyebrow, a little impressed. “Wow, not many people know about that one. I
Aaric didn’t give me a chance to refuse. His hand gripped my wrist, not too tight, but firm enough to make sure I couldn’t pull away. Before I could utter a single word, he was already leading me toward his car, a black vehicle that now felt like a trap.The car door opened, and in one swift motion, he pushed me inside with the confidence of a man who knew I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I could have protested, I could have resisted, but I didn’t. My fingers clenched the hem of my dress as Aaric shut the door beside me, then moved to the other side and slid into the driver’s seat.As soon as the engine roared to life and the car started moving, I bit my lip, trying to suppress the unease creeping up my chest. All I wanted was to go back to my old penthouse, not to the grand house I now shared with him, a house that was never supposed to be mine.But Aaric had other plans.The silence inside the car felt like a short fuse ready to ignite at any moment. I could sense Aaric’s gaze from the
Five Years Ago.Years ago—long before all of this, before the world felt so distant from those times—I was a design student.I spent my days in the art studio, sketching, studying composition, tweaking typography, and working on projects that always kept me up all night. But amidst all that, I had one small obsession: film.I never wanted to be a director or a screenwriter, but there was something about how films worked—the way colors, lighting, and framing shaped a story—that fascinated me. So, I took a few film theory classes as electives. I loved sitting in a dark room with a big screen, listening to professors dissect scenes in detail, discussing the hidden symbolism within a single frame.I always believed that in life, everyone has their own way of seeing the world. For me, the world always looked like a film—sometimes in warm, soft colors, other times in a dark, cold noir scheme.And that night, at a college party that was supposed to be one of the brightest chapters of my life
That morning had just started to feel a little better when I finally stepped into the faculty building, my hands still busy straightening the messy papers after the incident with Aaric. I walked quickly through the increasingly crowded corridor, trying to reach the studio room before my professor found another reason to make my day worse.But of course, I wasn’t that lucky.“Maya!”I stopped abruptly, almost dropping the folder in my hands. That voice… oh no.When I turned around, just as I had expected, Professor Leonard was striding toward me with his signature long, purposeful steps. His tall figure was dressed in a crisp white shirt and a tie that always seemed too tight. His expression was stern, his sharp eyes like a hawk locking onto its prey.I took a deep breath and forced a polite smile. “Good morning, Professor.”He didn’t return my smile. “I need to talk to you.”I gave a small nod. “Of course. What is it?”“This weekend’s seminar,” he said without preamble. “I want you to
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. But my heart pounded like a giant hammer striking my chest over and over again.My steps inched closer to the dark corner of the room, my sneakers squeaking softly against the floor. The shadow in the corner didn’t move, but I could swear I heard something there earlier."If you're joking..." I muttered under my breath, half-threatening, though my voice trembled slightly.I stepped even closer. My breathing sounded louder than it should. I was just one step away from the large shelf in the corner when suddenly—"BOO!""AARGH!" I nearly threw the marker in my hand as someone jumped out from behind the shelf.Loud laughter exploded in front of me. Samuel. Wearing a worn-out T-shirt, his hair a mess, and a satisfied grin like a kid who had just won the biggest prize at an amusement park."Your face!" he said between fits of laughter. "Oh my God, I wish I recorded that!"I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my erratic breathing. "You.
That morning started peacefully—for the first five minutes.I sat at the kitchen table, letting the scent of freshly brewed coffee fill my nose. My favorite ceramic mug felt warm in my hands, and each sip I took was like a small gift to myself. The morning sun slipped through the gaps in the curtains, casting golden patterns on the table.Then came the noise.“JOY! I’M NOT GOING TO SAY IT AGAIN! IF YOU DON’T WAKE UP IN FIVE SECONDS, I’M GOING TO DRENCH YOU!”I let out a long sigh and stared sadly at my coffee cup. My brief moment of peace was over.The sound of a door slamming was followed by Elle’s hurried footsteps. Her hair was a mess, half pulled up with a clip that was barely holding on. Her pajamas—a loose shirt with a lazy cat printed on it—were wrinkled on one side, as if she had just wrestled with her bed.“She won’t wake up!” Elle shouted as she grabbed an empty glass from the table and filled it with water.“I know.” I lifted my coffee cup calmly. “You don’t have to kill he
As soon as class was dismissed, I grabbed my sketchbook and started slipping it into my bag. Margo was already standing beside me, arms crossed over her chest, her expression full of curiosity ready to explode.“So,” she said in her usual dramatic tone, “if you’re not interested in auditioning, why did you bother taking Film Theory?”I zipped my bag shut with a sharp motion. “Because I like movies, Margo.”“Bullshit.” She arched an eyebrow sharply. “You want to be an actress, don’t you?”I let out a short chuckle, trying to ignore the sudden heat creeping up my face. “When I was a kid, yeah. But now I don’t—”“You’re lying,” she cut in quickly. “I know you love acting. You love attention.” She pointed at the whiteboard where I had just drawn. “You were acting just now, Maya! Like you knew everything about architecture.”“That’s because I do.”Margo let out a long sigh, then threw her hands up in frustration. “You’re seriously wasting your potential.”I turned on my heel and walked out
Aaric tensed for a moment, then slowly turned, the corner of his lips still curled upward. A faint red mark was beginning to form on his cheek, but what irritated me the most was his smile—the victorious one, as if he knew I would react like this."Wow," he said in a lazy tone that made me want to slap him again. "You know, I didn’t take you for the violent type.""I didn’t take you for the type who doesn’t know when to shut up," I shot back, grabbing my notes and hurriedly packing up my things.He didn’t stop me—of course, he wouldn’t. That wasn’t his style. Aaric Bernardi never tried to hold people back; he preferred to make them come back on their own. And I knew he thought I would do the same.As I turned to leave, he spoke again. "Don’t take it too seriously, De Cruz," he said. "But if you need a partner to practice for the seminar, I can help. You know where to find me."I paused for a moment at the doorway, glancing back. "Thanks," I said flatly. "But I’d rather practice with a
The photoshoot studio is vast and bright, with large lights hanging from the ceiling, casting almost too-perfect a glow. The air is thick with the scent of hairspray and expensive perfume, mingling with the photographer’s voice directing the model across the room. People are moving back and forth, carrying clothes on hangers, makeup tools, and pricey cameras that make me feel like a deer caught in headlights.I’m sitting in front of a giant mirror, its round lights surrounding it, my hands gripping the chair’s arms while a makeup artist brushes my face. Next to me, Elle is recording a video on her phone, her face beaming with enthusiasm she can’t hide.“Okay, I have to capture this moment,” she says, pointing the camera at my face. “Maya De Cruz, the designer girl who suddenly became a model. What’s it like being the center of attention?”I snort, trying to look relaxed even though my fingers are still clutching the chair. “Honestly, I’d rather be behind the scenes.”Joy, sitting on a
The night air cut through my skin, but I barely felt it. The alcohol still coursing through my veins created a thin fog in my mind, making everything feel slower, blurrier—bolder.Aaric stood so close, his breath grazing my skin, the warm scent of light tobacco, wood, and something unmistakably him mingling in the air. His eyes locked with mine, filled with something that should’ve made me step back, but instead, my feet stayed rooted to the spot. My heart was pounding so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.“You’re too quiet, De Cruz,” he murmured, his voice low and almost trembling between us. “You usually have something sharp to say.”I stared at him, my mind drifting somewhere far off. Part of me knew I should resist, should say something sarcastic, should do what I always did—get under his skin. But the alcohol, the cold night, and his face so close messed with my brain.Instead of answering, I only tilted my head slightly, noticing the sharp line of his jaw beneath the dim lig
Music thumped from inside the rented house filled with college students. Colorful lights flickered on the living room ceiling, which had been turned into an improvised dance floor. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, expensive perfume, and something vaguely sweet—probably the result of someone getting a little too creative with their mixed drinks.I walked in with Elle and Joy, weaving past a group of students laughing loudly while playing beer pong at the kitchen table. The sound of conversations mixed with the music, creating the typical chaos of a college party that I knew would last until morning.“I need a drink,” Joy declared determinedly, disappearing toward the kitchen without waiting for a reply.Elle glanced at me, giving my outfit an approving once-over. “I knew you’d look amazing in something a little more fitted.”I just snorted. I wasn’t the type to dress up too much for parties. Tonight, I was wearing a slightly tighter black T-shirt than usual, paired with my
I looked up. Aaric was staring at me, one eyebrow slightly raised, curious. "Why that face?" he continued. "Like someone just told you that you won the lottery, but you're not sure if you actually want the money." I opened my mouth to respond, but then closed it again. Honestly, I had no idea how to explain this feeling. So, I just put my phone back on the table, faced my laptop screen, and tried to act like that email hadn't just turned my entire life upside down. Aaric wasn't buying it. "Come on, De Cruz. I can see that expression from across the room," he said, leaning in closer. "What is it? A bad grade? A call from the FBI?" I sighed, finally giving in. "If I told you I just got offered a modeling contract from one of the biggest fashion houses in the world, would you laugh or be shocked?" Aaric was silent for a few seconds. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted. "Honestly? Not shocked." I frowned. "Why?" He shrugged like the answer was obvious. "You know why." I didn't
Sunday morning crept in slowly. The sun was just beginning to rise when I found myself sitting at the kitchen table, staring at my coffee cup that was slowly losing its warmth. The nervousness I had been suppressing since yesterday began to surface."Come on, De Cruz. You gave a seminar in front of dozens of people yesterday—how can this make you panic?" I muttered to myself."Talking to yourself again?" Elle appeared from the hallway wearing an oversized T-shirt that read I'm Not a Morning Person. Ironically, she looked like a runway model's morning version—her blonde hair artfully messy, with traces of yesterday's eyeliner giving her a dramatic flair."Are you ready for today?" she asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.I shrugged. "I don't know... I just feel like I shouldn't—""Stop right there," Elle interrupted, pointing at me with a teaspoon. "You're beautiful, talented, and you have a face that could make men forget their own names. So use that confidence.""I'm not that pret
I stood in front of the auditorium, gripping the remote for my slide presentation tightly. The room was fuller than I had expected. Faces of students from various majors filled the rows of seats—some looked serious, others were whispering, either about me or about what they had for lunch. But I didn’t care. I had spent days preparing this material, and I knew exactly what I was doing."Good morning, everyone," my voice rang out clearly, steady—far more confident than I actually felt. "I’m Maya De Cruz, from the visual design department. Today, I’ll be talking about how design influences spatial perception—and why this matters, not just for us designers, but for all of you studying architecture, engineering, even business."I pressed the button on the remote, displaying the first slide: "The Psychology of Space.""Every room has a story," I continued. "And that story begins with how we perceive the space. Imagine walking into a small café with dim lighting, exposed brick walls, and the
Aaric tensed for a moment, then slowly turned, the corner of his lips still curled upward. A faint red mark was beginning to form on his cheek, but what irritated me the most was his smile—the victorious one, as if he knew I would react like this."Wow," he said in a lazy tone that made me want to slap him again. "You know, I didn’t take you for the violent type.""I didn’t take you for the type who doesn’t know when to shut up," I shot back, grabbing my notes and hurriedly packing up my things.He didn’t stop me—of course, he wouldn’t. That wasn’t his style. Aaric Bernardi never tried to hold people back; he preferred to make them come back on their own. And I knew he thought I would do the same.As I turned to leave, he spoke again. "Don’t take it too seriously, De Cruz," he said. "But if you need a partner to practice for the seminar, I can help. You know where to find me."I paused for a moment at the doorway, glancing back. "Thanks," I said flatly. "But I’d rather practice with a
As soon as class was dismissed, I grabbed my sketchbook and started slipping it into my bag. Margo was already standing beside me, arms crossed over her chest, her expression full of curiosity ready to explode.“So,” she said in her usual dramatic tone, “if you’re not interested in auditioning, why did you bother taking Film Theory?”I zipped my bag shut with a sharp motion. “Because I like movies, Margo.”“Bullshit.” She arched an eyebrow sharply. “You want to be an actress, don’t you?”I let out a short chuckle, trying to ignore the sudden heat creeping up my face. “When I was a kid, yeah. But now I don’t—”“You’re lying,” she cut in quickly. “I know you love acting. You love attention.” She pointed at the whiteboard where I had just drawn. “You were acting just now, Maya! Like you knew everything about architecture.”“That’s because I do.”Margo let out a long sigh, then threw her hands up in frustration. “You’re seriously wasting your potential.”I turned on my heel and walked out
That morning started peacefully—for the first five minutes.I sat at the kitchen table, letting the scent of freshly brewed coffee fill my nose. My favorite ceramic mug felt warm in my hands, and each sip I took was like a small gift to myself. The morning sun slipped through the gaps in the curtains, casting golden patterns on the table.Then came the noise.“JOY! I’M NOT GOING TO SAY IT AGAIN! IF YOU DON’T WAKE UP IN FIVE SECONDS, I’M GOING TO DRENCH YOU!”I let out a long sigh and stared sadly at my coffee cup. My brief moment of peace was over.The sound of a door slamming was followed by Elle’s hurried footsteps. Her hair was a mess, half pulled up with a clip that was barely holding on. Her pajamas—a loose shirt with a lazy cat printed on it—were wrinkled on one side, as if she had just wrestled with her bed.“She won’t wake up!” Elle shouted as she grabbed an empty glass from the table and filled it with water.“I know.” I lifted my coffee cup calmly. “You don’t have to kill he