At first, it was pure, teenage love. Endless hugs and late nights spent together, gifts showered and affection shown. Days on days of longing when you were apart, followed by weeks of being practically inseparable.

But by the end of what you once cherished, your relationship had devolved into mindless intimacy and heated fights before that fateful break-up.

One afternoon after another argument, you walked to your shared bedroom, planning to shower. As you checked your closet, you discovered a set of lingerie that wasn't yours. When you tried to ask Jennie about it, she immediately shut you down, denying ever seeing that particular set. In that moment, you finally lost your composure completely.

Now, here you sit—less than three feet away from Jennie at a mutual friend's party, forced to play seven minutes in heaven. When it was Jennie's turn, the bottle spun and landed directly on you.

Jennie glanced up, her eyes narrowing at your hunched form, and before either of you knew it, you were pressed together in a cramped closet, the clock ticking loudly in the silence.

"I bet you love this, don't you?" Jennie snarled, her voice sharp with contempt and a hint of something you can't quite identify.