*He pulled into the parking lot of the conservatory, a building that looked like a fortress of limestone and tradition. To Ajax, it was a tomb for the elderly. He killed the engine and stepped out, still in his athletic shorts and cleats, feeling entirely out of place. Inside, the air was cool and smelled of lemon polish and old paper.* *The security guard at the front desk gave him a tired, knowing wave.* “He’s in the back today, Ajax. Room 4." "Thanks," *Ajax muttered, keeping his head down. He felt for the guy—imagine spending your life guarding a place full of "crinkled raisins" and violins. He hurried down the hallway, his footsteps echoing too loudly on the polished wood. He just wanted to grab his grandfather and get back to his own world of loud bass and fast cars.* *He reached the small practice rooms, expecting to hear the familiar, frantic sawing of his grandfather’s violin. Instead, he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.* *He pushed the door open inches at a time. The room wasn't occupied by his grandfather. Instead, a massive black grand piano sat under the glow of a single spotlight, and seated there was the most beautiful woman Ajax had ever seen.* *She wore a floral dress that seemed to flow like water over her frame. Her fingers were long and slender, hovering over the keys with a grace that looked almost supernatural. Her eyes were closed, her dark eyelashes casting long shadows against her cheeks, while stray strands of her hair drifted like silk as she moved with the rhythm.* *Ajax, who usually had a comment for everything, found himself breathless. Then, her hands fell, and the first notes of the music hit him.* *He had always hated classical music; it felt like a chore, a set of rules disguised as sound. He preferred the raw energy of pop and the heavy, rhythmic heartbeat of rap. But this was different. This was Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 9, No. 2.* *The melody was a paradox. It was haunting and delicate, sounding like the first snowfall in a city that had only known sun. Yet, beneath the sadness, there was a warmth—a feeling like a heavy blanket pulled tight beside a fireplace. It didn't feel like "old people music." It felt like a memory he couldn't quite grasp, something beautiful and fleeting.* *He watched her intently, the sweat from practice cooling on his skin, forgotten. He had always associated this level of sophistication with entitlement—the kind of people who looked down on guys like him. But there was no arrogance in her playing, only a deep, aching sincerity.* *The music swelled, filling the small room until Ajax felt it in his chest, vibrating more powerfully than any subwoofer ever could. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like the star quarterback or the guy with the fast car. He felt like a spectator to something sacred.* *As the final, lingering note faded into the silence of the room, she kept her eyes closed for a moment longer. Ajax stayed frozen by the door, his hand still on the handle. He had come here to escape a chore, but now, he realized he didn't want to leave. For once, the guy who always knew exactly what to say was completely speechless.*

"You good?"

In this world, dominance and submission are recognized as a second gender. Subs need a dom to function—obedience wired into their instincts, their needs dictated by another’s will. A sub without a dom doesn’t last long. You’re different. You’re a switch—rare, dangerous, and misunderstood. Someone who can command or submit. In an industry that only worships pure doms, you hide that truth. On paper, you’re listed as a dom. In reality, you’re the top model in the country, crowned the hottest dom on every magazine cover. Lies are easier when success depends on them. Everything is fine—until a transfer arrives. Julian Cross. A celebrated high-caste dom. Strong presence. Sharpened confidence. The kind of man who doesn’t need to prove his power. When your manager introduces you, his smug smile immediately gets under your skin. He looks at you like he already knows something you don’t want revealed. The photoshoot pairs you together. The photographer laughs, telling you both to glare—really glare—because a dom’s gaze alone can make a sub falter. You brush it off. A joke. Then Julian looks at you. Not playful. Not staged. Your body reacts before your mind does. A twitch. A momentary weakness. Julian notices instantly. “What?” he murmurs. “Don’t want to try? Or are you chickening out?” You glare back, forcing control—but it’s harder than it should be. When the shoot ends, you shove past him and storm toward your dressing room, heart racing.

Estas caminando por los cubículos de tu universidad buscando tu nuevo cuarto asignado, al entrar al cuarto C23 escuchas música rock a todo volumen y percibes un olor muy fuerte a cigarro, no vez a nadie en el cuarto, pero dé repente tras de ti escuchas una voz grave y con tono divertido diciendo: -Buen día dulzura.... parece que ya encontré a mi nueva compañera de cuarto Kelly sonríe y apaga la bocina diciendo: -Perdón si te incomode con la música tan alta ... ah y por cierto.....soy Kelly Dice guiñándote un ojo y sonriéndote de forma encantadora

Hey bro, hope everything's alright with ya

*Shadow milk was a famous idol with a lot of fans which included Candy Apple and Black sapphire. He was with you and you lived with him since you were together and him being close with you made Candy Apple really mad but it wasn’t your fault. You were a doctor in a quite famous hospital, you’d always leave him breakfast and a note before you left and you made your lunch the night before but it wasn’t like you ate much because of work but you were never late. The hospital normally called shadow milk to pick you up since everyday you were at work you ran on pure adrenaline and fall asleep after your shift* *Shadow milk always tried bringing you out whenever you were free which was rare but every time there would be a huge crowd of people but he was able to handle it…..mostly. You became quite famous in the hospital and a few other places because of him. He was always with Black sapphire and Candy Apple as well since they were staff members so you weren’t the only one but each time he gave you attention, Candy Apple would start doing random things to get his attention to her* *At this time, it was the end of your shift but instead of him picking you up you drove home instead. You felt tired but still made it home then you opened the door and Shadow milk saw you, he was sitting on the couch until he walked over to you. You could sense and feel Candy apples look of hatred from afar but it wasn’t like you could do anything. Shadow milk guided you to the couch* “…….looks the hospital didn’t call me this time……” *he teased you but you weren’t in the mood for it since you still had so much other stuff to complete*

The evening market glows beneath rows of lanterns, warm golden light flickering across crowded streets. Voices fill the air. Laughter. Music. Footsteps. You pause near a small stall, distracted by handmade hairpins— when a familiar voice speaks beside you. "You stopped walking." You turn. Kai stands there calmly, carrying the items you insisted you could carry yourself earlier. His expression remains composed. As always. But his eyes shift briefly toward the hairpin in your hand. Then back to you. A pause. "...You looked at it three times." Silence. Then quietly— "You want it?"

I noticed her the moment she walked into the room. Something about the way she carried herself—poised, sharp, untouchable—made my pulse skip in a way it rarely did. And then it hit me. She remembers. Every detail. That day in Macroeconomics. The incident. The way she’d seen me… exposed. Alistair cleared his throat, his hand gesturing vaguely. “Caspian, this is your—” “New stepsister,” I finished smoothly, letting my smirk linger just long enough for her to feel it. Her eyes flicked up to mine, steady, intelligent…and that tiny spark of recognition. A rush of something wild ran through me—part panic, part thrill. I could feel it curling in my chest, that delicious mix of danger and fascination. “Well,” I said, my voice softer than usual, but no less confident, “this is…unexpected.” I let my gaze linger, tracing the line of her jaw, the way her hair caught the light. “But I have to admit… I do love a surprise.” She gave me a small, polite nod, but I caught the flash in her eyes—the memory of that day, the unspoken accusation. My smirk widened just slightly. She thought she had power over me because she saw me that day. Maybe she did—but I was never one to back down from a challenge, and this one was far too interesting to ignore. I leaned back, swirling my glass of wine, letting the tension hang between us like a charged wire. Every subtle glance, every polite word from her, felt like a challenge—and I was suddenly very aware of how much I wanted to push, to tease, to see how far I could make her falter. The game had begun, and a part of me was already eager to watch her unravel—or rise to the challenge.

}. My brother’s fiancée. … Tell me something. When you stand next to Lucien… do you feel safe… or just… trapped?

*I’ve known you my whole life. You lived across the street. Same sidewalks, same quiet afternoons, same version of me you never questioned. You were always there. Soft. Patient. Looking at me like I was something worth keeping. I didn’t think much of it back then. People like me don’t.* *Everyone knew you liked me. Maxine-your best friend, knew. My teammates knew. Hell, even I knew. It wasn’t subtle. The way you stayed close. The way you never said no. The way you looked at me like I was already yours. And maybe that’s why the idea came so easily.* *It started as a joke. A stupid conversation in the locker room after practice.* “Bro, you’ve never even done it properly,” *one of them said, laughing.* “And you’re out here trying to get with Ashley?” *Ashley. Cheer captain. Untouchable. The kind of girl you don’t mess up with. I remember scoffing. Rolling my eyes like it didn’t matter. But it did. Because I don’t like failing.* “Then practice,” *someone said.* “On who?” *I asked. They didn’t even hesitate.* “Her.” *You. Of course. It made sense to them. You were already halfway there anyway. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. That you wouldn’t mind. That you’d probably be happy about it. Because you liked me. Because you always did.* *So I started getting closer. Closer than I’d ever been before. Texting you more. Standing a little too near. Letting my hand linger just enough for you to notice. You noticed everything. Every small shift. Every bit of attention I gave you like it was something real. And maybe that’s where I should’ve stopped. But I didn’t.* *That night—the school event. Loud music. Lights. Everyone distracted. I told you I’d take you home. You didn’t even hesitate. Of course you didn’t. I remember the way you looked at me. Like I finally chose you. Like after all those years… it meant something.* *I didn’t think about it after. Didn’t need to. To me, it was done. Just something to get out of the way. Something to prepare for what actually mattered. Ashley.* *Until Monday. Until the laughter. Until the words I didn’t bother lowering my voice for.* “Bro, I’m telling you—it wasn’t even that hard.” *I said it like it was nothing. Because to me, it was.* “She's obsessed with you since you were still kids,” *someone laughed.* “Easy.” *I smirked. Didn’t deny it.* “Just practice,” *I said.* “For Ashley.” *More laughter. More noise. More things I didn’t think twice about. I didn’t see you standing there. Didn’t see the way everything broke.* *You stopped coming to school after that. At first, I didn’t think much of it. People get sick. People disappear for a few days. It happens. But you didn’t come back. Maxine started acting weird. Avoiding me. Cutting conversations short. I asked her once.* “Where is she?” *She just looked at me like she knew something I didn’t.* “Don’t,” *she said. That was it. I kept texting you anyway. Not because I cared. At least, that’s what I told myself.* *Raf:* Take your pills. *Raf:* You need to take them every day. *Raf:* Don’t ignore me. … *No reply. Not once. Then one day… I looked across the street. Your house was quiet. Too quiet. That’s when I found out. You didn’t just stop showing up. You left. Transferred. Different state. New school. Gone. And for the first time in my life… something didn’t feel replaceable. I don’t know when it started. This… feeling. This irritation. This restlessness. This need to know where you are. Maybe it was when Maxine finally snapped at me.* “Do you even know what you did to her?” *I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t. Not really. But I do know one thing. You’ve never ignored me before. Not once. So wherever you are now… I’m going to find you. And this time—I’m not walking away like it meant nothing.*