As I approach the table, I immediately notice a girl and two guys sitting there. Plates of snacks are already on the table, and the air is filled with the scent of alcohol. Bottles of strong drinks glisten in the dim lamp light.

  My companion cheerfully greets the group and introduces me. The girl next to her is Mila — with bright eyes and a confident posture. The guys are named Ivan and Stepan. We exchange handshakes, but I feel a slight tension in the air, as if we all know we won’t just sit and chat casually.

  When I sit down, I notice Ivan’s gaze sizing me up, a barely perceptible smirk on his face. It becomes clear that to him, I am an outsider, someone who doesn’t fit into their circle. Even if he says nothing, his attitude is written all over his face and in the tone of his gestures.

  “They pour us drinks as a welcome,” Katrin quietly informs me, raising her glass.

  She downs her glass in one swift motion without hesitation, and I notice her eyes glint as the alcohol kicks in. I barely touch my glass, already feeling a heaviness in my throat. The thought of walking away from all this flashes through my mind, but before I can say a word, Ivan abruptly breaks the silence.

  “Why’d you bring a kid who can’t even drink, Katya?” His voice drips with mockery, and his gaze is sharp as a knife. He is clearly trying to provoke me, and I don’t like the cruel glint in his eyes, as if he enjoys watching me feel out of place.

  “He’s just...” she tries to explain, but I don’t let her finish.

  Something inside me snaps, and I grab my glass without thinking. I drain it in one gulp, barely suppressing a grimace from the drink’s burning bite, refusing to show weakness. The pain in my throat is sharp, but it’s worth enduring.

  “More!” I hold out my glass, determined not to let him see me falter.

  His taunts, the subtle digs — it’s as if he deliberately wants to humiliate me, to break me down in front of everyone. Everything he does is aimed at making me crack, to test whether I will give in.

  Mila and Stepan exchange glances, their eyes darting between me and Ivan, sensing the growing tension. Mila watches with interest, anticipating what will happen next, while Stepan remains reserved but observant.

  Katrin seems to relish the game, her laughter light and her words adding fuel to the fire. She stirs the tension with playful teasing, her glances and gestures casual, as if she enjoys watching us dance to her tune.

  I don’t understand why I keep going. Maybe it’s pride, the need to put Ivan in his place, to show I’m not weak. His remarks grow sharper, more poisonous, and my anger swells like an avalanche. I can’t stop — the rage throbs in my chest, but I keep playing. It feels like the only way to win is to keep drinking, to deny him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

  The alcohol clouds my head, but I feel like this is my chance to prove I’m not the weakling he thinks I am. My vision blurs, and my body starts resisting. They pour me another drink, not the first of the night. The glass is full, and I take it without caring about the temperature, the smell, or the taste. I’m getting used to the burning aftertaste that seeps deeper into my senses.

  The alcohol loosens me up, as if I’m dissolving in the moment. My shoulders relax, and the heaviness in my chest fades. I still feel the irritation, but it’s no longer my driving force. With every sip, the laughter grows lighter, and the atmosphere becomes more relaxed. I stop feeling so serious — everything becomes effortless. I feel good, my muscles loosen, and my heart races as if I’ve broken free from the chains of anxiety and tension.

  Katrin’s laughter is contagious, and soon, I’m laughing with them, not even realizing when it started. It’s unexpected but strangely pleasant.

  Maybe Katrin wants to pull me out of my state, to make me forget everything that happened before this evening. I don’t know why she brought me here, but now it seems like it’s exactly what I need. There’s a sparkling fire in her eyes, and she savors every moment, watching me unveil a hidden side of myself that I’ve kept locked away.

  One way or another, I no longer feel out of place. I become part of the group, part of the game, and the sense of freedom doesn’t leave me, even under the influence of alcohol. I embrace this new rhythm as I accept my new state of being — not resisting, but surrendering. My mood lifts, and I truly want to have fun. Hell, maybe that’s exactly why this little devil dragged me here in the first place.

  I stand up, take Katrin’s hand, and lead her to the dance floor. She doesn’t resist; her slender, delicate fingers wrap around my hand as if she already knows what I’m going to do. She smiles subtly, her lips curving into a mysterious smirk, full of confidence and provocation. She silently tells me — now you’re mine. And that look, with its enigmatic power, leaves me no choice.

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  We start to dance. The music fades into the background, and all my attention is on Katrin. Our bodies barely touch, but it’s enough to dissolve the distance between us. We’re drawn to each other like magnets.

  I run my hands over her waist, feeling her warm, soft skin. I pull her close, feeling her chest gently press against me. Her movements are graceful, as if she’s part of the music itself, and I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s intoxicatingly perfect, and she keeps enchanting me more and more. Eventually, I lose myself in her curves and her scent.

  Katrin turns her back to me, pressing so close that there isn’t a millimeter of space left between us. Her hips sway to the rhythm of the music. This girl knows exactly how to drive me insane. Tilting her head, she exposes her neck, and I can’t hold back — I run my nose along her skin, inhaling the sweet scent, like the night itself, full of promises and unexplored desires.

  Every movement of hers is seductive and meticulously calculated, like an invitation, and I eagerly accept it. She leads me like an experienced dancer, and I follow, trusting her completely. She isn’t in a hurry, yet she still manages to conquer me with her smooth, confident turns, her gaze full of mysterious power — all of it captivates me. She knows what she wants and pursues it with unwavering certainty, leaving me no chance to resist. I’m entirely in her power, and I like it. At that moment, it feels like we’re the only ones in the world, and nothing can break our connection.

  I realize this isn’t just a dance — it’s a game where she’s the main player. And I’m ready to play by her rules, savoring every second of this dangerous and thrilling adventure. Katrin is the embodiment of sensuality, a true huntress luring me into her trap, not letting me escape. She feels my breath, my desire, and with every movement, I lose my ability to think, following only my instincts.

  Rebel Girl gracefully raises her hand and places it on my neck, her fingers gliding gently across my skin. With her other hand, she traces along her waist, her fingers brushing against the fabric — a gesture that’s both inviting and teasing. Her body is a perfect instrument she wields to make me melt into her spell. She knows how to tease, never giving me the slightest chance to fully conquer her. She played with my emotions, making me wrestle with my own desires. And when her hips brush against me, I feel my blood freeze, only to surge forward, igniting a fire inside me.

  At some point, she turns to face me, her eyes locking onto mine. In them, I see a mysterious, pulsating universe. She bites her lip slightly, and that tiny, incredibly seductive gesture adds even more heat to the already electrified atmosphere. Everything around us fades, and in that moment, we merge with the music, the dance, and the passion unfolding between us. There’s something about this rhythm that leaves me no choice — I’m caught, and it doesn’t matter. The only thing I can do is follow her.

  Katrin is so captivating — her presence is magnetic, her gaze burning, and every gesture is a mystery. I can’t take my eyes off her face, her smile, which becomes more and more alluring, as if she knows what it’s doing to my mind. All I want is to not let her go, but my mind stays alert, though no one is listening to it.

  "You’re my Rebel Girl. Only mine," I whisper in her ear.

  Her skin grows hot under my breath, and her body responds with a slight movement. In that moment, I feel her dissolve in my hands, her silhouette becoming inseparable from mine.

  She doesn’t pull away but presses closer to me. Sparks reignite in her eyes, making me forget everything. She smiles, and that smile is an invitation, a test of my patience. I know she feels the same. The girl is looking for an answer – what am I willing to do for her?

  My excitement grows, but I know we can’t cross the line. Not here, among strangers. This isn’t the place or time, and I have to hold back.

  Suddenly, she stops, and I can’t understand why.

  "Go without me, Nerd. I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back soon."

  I feel a slight disappointment. I don’t want to let her go, but she looks at me that way, and I can’t stop her.

  Reluctantly, I agree and let go of her hand. But I read a message in her gaze, promising more dances to come. I watch her until she disappears into the crowd, unable to tear my gaze away.

  Sitting at the table, I feel myself calming with every breath. Katrin has enchanted me, her presence lingers, but now, without her by my side, I feel my thoughts begin to clear. At some point, I feel a pang of guilt, and I can’t quite understand why. Not because of the dance – that was something more, a moment full of emotions and thoughts that can’t be put into words. Here, at the table, surrounded by people, I realize that our dance was personal, intimate, not for prying eyes. We were so close that the whole world disappeared when we danced.

  I also feel a strange embarrassment, not because of what I’ve done — I wouldn’t regret it — but because of how we might be perceived. We’ve become the center of attention, and that makes me uncomfortable. I would have preferred it to be just ours — our moment, untouchable by anyone.

  But where is Katrin? Where is she? She couldn’t have just disappeared.

  I notice Ivan getting up and heading in the direction where Katrin went. Could it be a coincidence? Thoughts start to flicker in my mind, but I don’t have time to process them because, at that moment, I feel her presence again, even though she’s somewhere far away. Just like magic, it never leaves you, even when you try to forget.

  I’m about to get up to go look for her, but Mila stops me, grabbing my hand. The move is sudden and insistent, her fingers tightly wrapping around my hand, trying to hold me back.

  "Don’t, don’t go," her voice is filled with worry that I can’t ignore.

  "I’ll just go after Katrin and come right back."

  "They’ll manage without you. Oh!" Immediately, as if realizing she’s said too much, she covers her mouth with her palm, her face darkens, and I see her trying to avoid my gaze.

  So, they? – I think, narrowing my eyes in displeasure. I know he went after her. But what does he want from her? Why can’t he just leave her alone?

  I jerk my hand, trying to break free from her grip, and she, not expecting it, loosens it.

  "Stay out of my business with Katrin. She’s mine!" It slips out of me, and there’s more to those words than just jealousy.

  I realize that my insecurity has turned into anger, and I don’t understand how far I’ve gone. Katrin is important to me, much more than just an acquaintance; she’s something deeper than I can express in words.