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Present day...

•T–––M–––V–––P–––L•

Birds chirped in the quiet street of Svetyland, a little town in Los Angeles. Sun was scorching heavily, leaves were all dry and few people were roaming about the streets.

It was the first day of the week -- which was filled with the opulence of summer. Particularly, it was the first day of summer. Everyone could feel the heat already, and that made them stay inside within the comfort of their air condition.

But not Freya Coleman.

Dressed in a pair of worn denim shorts and a violet tank top that clung to her slender frame, she walked briskly along the cracked pavement to her best friend's — Elizabeth, house, her ponytail swaying with each step. A water bottle filled with freshly squeezed orange juice dangled from her left hand, droplets of the content trickling down its sides. Freya’s light blonde hair shimmered under the sun’s rays, framing her beautiful face.

Eventually, Freya arrived at a two-story house with a well-kept lawn. She approached the front door, which was painted a deep shade of blue, and knocked twice. The door creaked open almost immediately, revealing Mrs. Pott, Elizabeth’s mother. She was a striking woman in her late forties, with deep brown eyes and skin the color of rich chocolate, her face radiating warmth and kindness as she greeted Freya with a smile.

“Hey, Freya!” Mrs. Pott’s voice was melodic, her tone always carrying a hint of laughter. She stepped aside to let Freya in, wiping her hands on the apron she wore over her summer dress. The house smelled faintly of vanilla and cinnamon.

“Hello, Mrs. Pott!” Freya replied, returning the smile with equal enthusiasm. “Is Elizabeth home?”

“Yes, she’s upstairs, buried in a book as usual,” Mrs. Pott replied with a knowing look, her eyes twinkling. “I figured you’d be the one when I heard the knock. Why don’t you go on up? I’ll bring some freshly baked cookies in a bit.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Pott!” Freya’s face lit up at the mention of cookies. “You’re the best!”

Mrs. Pott chuckled, waving off the compliment as she headed back to the kitchen. Freya took the familiar path up the stairs, her sneakers barely making a sound on the carpeted steps. She reached the second floor and walked down the hallway to the second door on the right, pushing it open without hesitation.

The room was a sanctuary of books, with shelves lining every wall, filled to the brim with novels, textbooks, and books of every genre. Elizabeth was at her desk, her back to the door, completely absorbed in her reading. Her thick black curls cascaded down her back, and her chocolate-colored skin glowed in the light streaming in through the window. Earbuds were firmly in place, drowning out the world around her.

Freya sighed, shaking her head in amusement. She crossed the room in a few strides and tapped Elizabeth on the shoulder. Startled, Elizabeth turned, pulling the earbuds from her ears.

“Oh my! You scared me,” she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. “When did you get here?”

“Since forever,” Freya teased, rolling her eyes dramatically before flopping down on Elizabeth’s bed. She dropped her bottle on the plush carpet, making herself comfortable. “Seriously, Eli, I’ve been calling you!”

“I’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said, her tone genuinely apologetic as she ran a hand through her unruly curls. “I didn’t realize...my phone’s been on Do Not Disturb.”

She picked up her phone from the desk and showed Freya the screen, which confirmed her excuse.

Freya just shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Whatever,” she muttered, standing up and heading straight for Elizabeth’s wardrobe. “There’s a party tonight, and we’re both going.”

“Freya, I really—” Elizabeth began, but Freya cut her off with a wave of her hand.

“No excuses,” Freya insisted, already rummaging through the clothes. “We’re both going tonight, and that’s final.”

Elizabeth sighed deeply, rubbing her temples as she closed the book she had been reading. She knew better than to argue with Freya when she had that look in her eye. The last time Freya had dragged her to a party, it had ended in disaster. A seemingly innocent drink offered by a guy had turned out to be something much stronger than Elizabeth anticipated. One shot had her vomiting on the poor guy and several others nearby. The embarrassment had haunted her for weeks, and the nickname ‘One Shot’ had followed her around campus like a bad smell.

“Remember the last time I went to a party with you?” Elizabeth tried to reason with Freya, hoping to appeal to her friend’s sense of empathy. “You saw how I made a complete fool of myself. I don’t want a repeat of that.”

Freya, however, was undeterred. She pulled out a white spaghetti-strap dress from the wardrobe and held it up with a grin.

“Hello! Elizabeth is speaking here.”

“I can hear you, but I don't feel like listening,” Freya replied, turning to her best friend. “See Elizabeth, just because you vomited the last time doesn't mean anything. It happens. The first time I went to a party, believe me, I did something more embarrassing than that. It was a strip show at that party.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened in horror, but Freya just laughed it off.

“It's only made me popular though,” Freya winked.

“But you can't force me to go to this Party,” Elizabeth closed her books, crossed her arms on her chest and turned her chair around so she could see her friend properly. “I'm not going and it's final.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

Freya arched an eyebrow as she hung the dress back in the wardrobe. She then sauntered over to the bed and sat down with a casual air, leaving Elizabeth perplexed by the sudden shift in attitude.

Elizabeth watched her best friend warily, unsure of what to make of her friend’s uncharacteristic compliance. “So you’re really not going to force me to go anymore?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion as she joined Freya on the bed.

“Nope,” Freya replied, her tone light, though a mischievous glint remained in her eyes. “But just so you know, you’d be missing out on your youth.”

Elizabeth sighed, already sensing where this conversation was headed. Freya was about to launch into her favorite lecture— the “YOLO” speech.

“See Eli,” Turning slightly on the bed, she held Elizabeth's hands. “We're on summer break, we should enjoy and party while we can.”

“But I'd rather read.”

“Elizabeth, you're brilliant enough,” Truly, Elizabeth was really brilliant. “You came first in your department, not only that, you came first in the whole level.”

“And it's all because I read.”

“Well Elizabeth, you need to go out a little,” Freya told her friend. “All work and no play will make Elizabeth a dull girl. Also, you need to make friends.”

“I have you, and I am happy to have you as my best friend, so I don't want any more friends.”

Freya sighed before adding with a sly grin. “If you don't go with me, I won't want to go. And, I don’t want to disappoint my new friend who invited me.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “A new friend, huh?”

“Yup, and you’ll meet him when you come to the party with me,” Freya said, her grin widening.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of curiosity in her expression. “I do want to meet him, but—”

“What’s my motto, Elizabeth?” Freya interrupted, her voice taking on a sing-song quality.

“You only live once—YOLO,” Elizabeth recited with a resigned smile. She knew there was no arguing with Freya when she was in this mood.

“So please, Elizabeth, come with me. You know how much I hate going anywhere without you,” Freya pleaded, her baby blue eyes wide and imploring, a look Elizabeth had never been able to resist.

“Fine,” Elizabeth relented, rolling her eyes with a sigh. “I’ll go with you, but we’re both coming—”

Freya didn’t let her finish. She squealed in delight and threw her arms around Elizabeth in a tight hug, cutting off any further objections. Before Elizabeth could even catch her breath, Freya was back at the wardrobe, rummaging through the clothes with renewed vigor.

A knock on the door interrupted their excitement, and Elizabeth called out. “You can come in!”

The door creaked open, and Elizabeth's younger brother, Ethan, stepped in, balancing a tray with freshly baked cookies and two tall glasses of milk. His presence seemed to brighten the already sunlit room, his hazel eyes twinkling as he took in the scene before him.

“Hey, Freya!” he greeted warmly, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he walked toward the desk to set down the tray.

“Hey, Ethan!” Freya responded, her voice carrying an unmistakable hint of flirtation as her eyes shamelessly followed his every move. Her gaze lingered on his well-toned frame, appreciating the way his muscles subtly flexed under his fitted t-shirt. Elizabeth, ever the observant sister, caught the look and rolled her eyes in mild disgust. “How are you doing?”

“Great,” Ethan replied, pushing aside a stack of Elizabeth's books with one hand before carefully placing the tray on the desk. His caramel skin seemed to glow under the light, and as he straightened up, Freya couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.

It was no secret that Freya harbored a not-so-subtle crush on Ethan. Honestly, who could blame her? At eighteen, Ethan was the epitome of youthful attractiveness, with a physique that seemed to have been chiseled by the gods themselves. His six-pack abs, which he often showed off during lacrosse practice, were the stuff of legends at school. Add to that his smooth, caramel skin and those mesmerizing hazel eyes, and you had the most popular guy in high school—captain of the lacrosse team and the subject of countless daydreams among the girls.

To Freya, Ethan was a living Adonis, and her eyes practically sparkled whenever he was around.

Ethan, oblivious to Freya's adoration, flashed her another smile as he made his way to the door. “I better leave now. See you later, Freya,” he said, his voice carrying that easygoing charm that made him so likable.

“See you later,” Freya echoed, her tone warm and almost wistful as she watched him go.

As the door closed behind him, Elizabeth let out a sigh and shot Freya a pointed look. “Really, Freya? You're still interested in Ethan?” she asked, grabbing a cookie from the tray and taking a bite. “He's my little brother, for crying out loud.”

Freya shrugged, her hands still busy rummaging through Elizabeth's wardrobe. “You can't blame me, you know,” she said nonchalantly. “Blame him for being too handsome.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, chewing slowly as she considered her words. “I don't care how handsome he is, just trash any fantasy you might have. It won’t be funny if anything happens, Freya.”

“Whatever,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she picked out a yellow dress. “And I think I've found what you'd be wearing, Miss Elizabeth Pott.”

“And I dread this night already, Miss Freya Coleman.”

To Be Continued…