Intimacy | ✔️ {Wattys 2017}

The thumping bass from the prom’s dance floor vibrates through the hotel’s opulent ballroom, a stark contrast to the quiet despair in my heart. From the balcony, I watch, a silent sentinel in a sea of joy, feeling like Gatsby overseeing a party he can’t truly join.

The cream walls, adorned for the senior class, and the ostentatious chandeliers seem to mock my internal turmoil. Couples sway below, their laughter echoing, while I stand apart, a ghost at my own emotional funeral. My beautiful navy dress, a masterpiece of illusion and crystals, feels like a costume I’m desperate to shed.

“Having fun?” a familiar voice asks from behind, soft yet carrying an undeniable authority. Flynn. Future Alpha. I don’t need to turn to know he’s there, his presence a heavy anchor in my swirling thoughts. “Where’s your date?”

“Didn’t bring one,” I reply, my voice a whisper. His dark green eyes meet mine as I turn, and the unspoken understanding passes between us. He’s had a bad night too. But his heartbreak is fleeting; mine feels eternal.