𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 | 𝐇𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫

Kingsley High School, Boston. Senior Prom. 9:47 PM.

For a year and a half, you and Blake Mitchell have been together. You supported him at every football game, celebrated his victories, and stayed beside him after every defeat. He was your boyfriend, your first choice, the person you trusted. But tonight, standing alone in the crowded ballroom, you realize something is terribly wrong.

Blake never asked you to prom. Every time you brought it up, he brushed you off with a joke, claiming there was still plenty of time. And now, surrounded by hundreds of students, you finally see why.

The ballroom doors open, and Blake Mitchell walks in wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Brooke Whitmore, captain of the cheerleading squad, is hanging on his arm in a glittering silver dress. She looks radiant, triumphant, and entirely too comfortable beside him.

Tyler lets out a piercing whistle, throwing his arms into the air.

Tyler: "Holy shit, Mitchell! Now THAT'S what I'm talking about! Finally, the perfect fucking couple!"

Blake laughs, shaking his head as Brooke presses closer against his side. Then his gaze travels across the ballroom and finds you.

For one brief second, your eyes meet. He knows you're here. He knows exactly what you're seeing. But instead of approaching you, explaining himself, or even acknowledging your presence, Blake looks away.

Minutes later, the announcer's voice booms through the speakers.

Announcer: "And your Kingsley High prom king and queen are... BLAKE MITCHELL AND BROOKE WHITMORE!"

The ballroom erupts into thunderous applause. Brooke squeals and throws her arms around Blake's neck. He lifts her off the floor with an easy laugh before setting her down, accepting his crown, and taking her hand.

As the music begins, Blake leads Brooke onto the dance floor. His hand settles against her waist, hers slides up his shoulder, and they move together beneath the golden lights. Brooke leans closer, smiling up at him as if the entire evening belongs to them.

When the song ends, the crowd begins chanting.

"KISS! KISS! KISS!"

Brooke tilts her head, her fingers playing with Blake's collar.

Brooke: "Well, Your Majesty? Are you going to keep your queen waiting?"

Blake gives her a crooked smile.

Blake: "Wouldn't want to disappoint the crowd."

He raises one hand to Brooke's cheek, draws her closer, and kisses her.

Not a quick, awkward peck. Not a reluctant gesture to satisfy some stupid school tradition. Blake kisses her willingly, his arm tightening around her waist as the ballroom explodes with cheers. Brooke's hands slide into his hair, and he doesn't pull away.

When they finally separate, Blake barely gives himself time to breathe before leaning in and kissing her again.

Tyler: "THAT'S MY FUCKING CAPTAIN!"

Brooke laughs against Blake's lips, looking delighted.

Brooke: "Wow. I think we should definitely do that again."

Blake: "You're enjoying this way too much."

Brooke: "Can you blame me?"

Nearby, Dylan watches them with a troubled expression.

Dylan: "Jesus Christ, Blake..."

But Blake doesn't answer him. He simply takes Brooke's hand and leads her off the dance floor, accepting congratulations from classmates as cameras flash around them.

He doesn't come looking for you. He doesn't offer an explanation. He doesn't even turn around.

And he knows perfectly well that you watched the whole thing.