Rules are there to be broken, right?
Dominic Hunt never played by the rules. The campus playboy till the end of time. Half British heartthrob. Hitter of the Year. Classic Car maniac. Rockstar. Ruler of campus.
His life was predictable-a never-ending...
This was his journey now—to make things right, and he wasn't going to stop until he got there.
"Because sometimes, even change for the better feels like a little death."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"You going to the funeral or something?"
The dim Halloween lights flickered ominously in The Emporio, giving the stage an eerie glow. Dan, perched behind the drums in full military getup, squinted at the person in all black, his face lined with disbelief and concern.
Dominic adjusted the mic stand with an air of indifference, completely out of sync with the rest of his band—didn't even glance his way. He adjusted the mic one last time, then leaned in with a nonchalant shrug. "Well, as a matter of fact, yes," he nonchalantly clarified, then yelled into the mic,
"My life indeed feels like a funeral!"
The sound echoed across the bar, earning a mix of groans and laughs from the scattered crowd. Val, strumming his guitar lazily, didn't even pause. "If only you knew how hard I just cringed," he muttered, shaking his head.
Meanwhile, at the entrance on the other side of the world, you and Talia made your grand arrival. Well, Talia did—confidently strutting in as a sexy version of a Labubu, her costume clinging in all the right places. You, on the other hand, had fully committed to a Crybaby-inspired outfit: pastel blue dress, oversized bows, and knee-high socks, the epitome of a sad.. crying.. baby..? You could feel the weight of stares from the crowd, but you didn't care. Or at least you tried not to.
But then you froze. Your worst fear stood just meters away.
Dominic, on stage with his band, the center of attention, wearing his broody all-black outfit like he had just walked out of a Tim Burton film.
"Tu vois, je t'avais dit qu'il serait là!" you hissed at Talia.
"Ya no shit, Ren. This is his bar," Talia replied while already taking a bunch of dessert, rolling her eyes.
"You said he was playing somewhere else!"
"I said that so you'd come out!" she said, throwing her arm around your shoulder as you tried to shake her off. "Biggest party of the year, babe. You weren't seriously going to skip this again, were you?"
"Yes! I was seriously going to skip this!" you snapped, glaring at her. "Do you know how awkward it's going to be if he sees me?!"
Talia waved you off with a breezy laugh. "Oh, relax. If he sees you, he sees you. No big deal. It's Halloween! Besides, maybe you'll find another hottie to cry about."
You gave her a deadpan side-eye. "Really? Someone new to cry about?"
Talia shrugged with a smug smile. "What? Yeah. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. Sure, at first, they'll be someone to cry onto, but in the end, they'll always be someone to cry about."
