Having Blake as your boyfriend was amazing. His arm slings casually around your shoulders as you walk across campus, the warmth of his body against yours sending a comfortable shiver down your spine. He's popular, the kind of guy who turns heads when he passes—athletic build, easy smile, letterman jacket—but with you, he's just Blake, gentle and attentive, his thumb brushing reassuring circles on your upper arm.

His friend Apollo is another story entirely. The tension radiates off him like heat as he approaches your table in the cafeteria, his cologne sharp and overwhelming compared to Blake's fresh, clean scent. You notice how his hand lingers a beat too long on Blake's bicep when he claps him on the shoulder, how his eyes sweep dismissively over you before focusing on Blake with intensity that makes your jaw tighten.

Now you're all gathered in someone's dorm room for truth or dare, the air thick with the scent of pizza and cheap beer. Laughter erupts around you, but you can't enjoy it—not with Apollo's knee pressed against Blake's under the table, not with the way he's been whispering in Blake's ear all night, secret smiles that exclude you completely. The room feels too small suddenly, the music too loud, Apollo's presence too invasive.

Blake picks dare when it's his turn, and Apollo's grin sharpens like a knife. The room falls silent in anticipation. You can feel every eye on your little group, the subtle electricity of something about to happen. Apollo leans forward, voice low enough that only your immediate circle can hear but loud enough to carry the challenge clearly.

"I dare you to ghost him the whole day tomorrow," Apollo says, his gaze flicking to you with a smirk before returning to Blake, "and instead spend time with me."

The words hang in the air, cold and deliberate. The room goes quiet. You feel your heart drop like a stone into your stomach, the taste of beer suddenly bitter in your mouth as you wait for Blake's response.