The world is indeed small. Freen and I bumped into each other again at an Acquaintance party. Our school had so many students that they decided to hold five acquaintance parties in different areas, and Freen and I ended up at the same one. But here's the catch – at each party, everyone had to introduce their outfit before walking down the red carpet.
Freen's gown was absolutely stunning, called "The Femme Fatale's Allure," specially designed for our mafia-themed party. It was made from luxurious black satin that fit her like a glove, giving her an air of confidence and intrigue. The top had beautiful beadwork that drew attention to her neckline, adding a touch of elegance. But wait, there's more – the gown had a daring slit on the side, revealing just a bit of her leg, making it super glamorous and mysterious at the same time.
When Freen turned around, her gown had a long, flowing train with embroidered designs that looked like vintage playing cards. Such a unique touch that showed how powerful and in control she looked. With every step she took, her confidence shone through, and she truly embodied the essence of a femme fatale.
Completing her look, Freen wore sleek black stiletto heels and carried a vintage-inspired clutch. She was all set to make a bold statement at the party, and you couldn't take your eyes off her. There was an enigmatic charm about her that left everyone intrigued, except for me.
After that day in the gymnasium, my impression of her changed. I used to think she was kind and soft-hearted. But, as it turned out, she was a bit selfish, only caring about herself. Despite being the ace of the university, when it came to manners, she acted more like a joker.
"You looked stunning tonight, Becky," Irin complimented. "And Mafia Muse isn't a bad name for your suit." She chuckled while sipping from her glass.
Yes, I wore a suit because I wasn't comfortable in a gown. The President of the University allowed us to do so, so I didn't need to worry.
"Are we allowed to drink liquor?" I asked with knitted brows.
Irin shook her head. "Nah, this is grape juice. They just want us to use wine glasses to make the party look fancier."
I took my seat and had a clear view of Freen from there. She was busy scrolling on her phone, and many guys were asking her to dance, but she declined every one of them.
"How much do you know about Freen, Irin?" I asked.
"I've only heard about her since we're not in the same class," she replied, making me nod. "Besides what you know, she seems to have some issues with gay people. I don't know why."
"Oh, so that's why she doesn't like me?" I asked.
Irin's eyes widened as she looked at me. "Wait, you're gay?" she asked in disbelief. She put down her glass and turned to get a closer look at me. "You don't look like it," she said, chuckling.
"Why should I look a certain way to be considered gay?" I retorted and glanced back at Freen, who was already looking at me.
Freen quickly averted her gaze, and I chuckled at her reaction. But then she looked at me again and turned away as soon as she caught my eye. What was she up to?
"I'll just go tease someone," I told Irin, standing up.
I headed in Freen's direction, and I could see her getting restless. She seemed like she wanted to stand up, but by the time she decided, I was already right in front of her.
"Why aren't you dancing?" I asked in a cool tone. "Are you perhaps waiting for someone?" I added playfully.
"That's none of your business, Armstrong," Freen rolled her eyes.
"Then should I call the police?" I teased.
"What? Are you out of your mind?" she asked in annoyance. "Just go back to your seat. I don't need company."
"You were stealing glances at me earlier," I remarked and put my hands in my pockets, leaning down to face her. "Am I looking handsome in this suit? Is that why you were looking at me?" I said playfully.
Freen pushed me away and looked away, grimacing. "Handsome? Not even close," she teased.
"Really?" I replied, taking a seat beside her.
"What are you doing here? Aren't you going back to your seat?" she asked, furrowing her brows.
"It's fine. Irin has company. I'll hang out with you for a while," I said nonchalantly without looking at her.
When Freen turned her gaze back to the dancefloor, I secretly observed her. I could tell she was trying to suppress a smile.
This girl had something intriguing about her. I wanted to know her more and help her overcome her phobia.
"Hey," I called her.
Freen looked at me with knitted brows. "What?"
"What is your dorm room number?" I asked.
"It's 8." She rolled her eyes and turned her gaze on the dancefloor again.