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I kicked my heels off so hard one of them hit the wall. I ripped my dress off in two seconds flat and tossed it somewhere on my bed. My hair clip got yanked out and thrown across the room because I swear if I kept it on my head one more second, I was going to scream.
I stomped into my bathroom like a cartoon character who just got cursed.
Who the hell did Nico think he was?
I stood in front of the mirror still fuming, mascara smudging under my eyes, lipstick faded, hair all over the place.
"He had absolutely no right," I muttered to myself.
I turned on the shower, waiting for it to heat up.
"No right to show up like that. No right to embarrass me. To... to act like he the boss of my life."
I slapped my hands against my cheeks, trying to calm myself.
"Why am I so mad?"
I wasn't a little girl anymore. I wasn't the sophomore who needed saving. I wasn't helpless. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water hit my skin. It relaxed me, but it didn't settle the storm.
"He disappeared for years," I whispered. "And now he thinks he can just show up and growl at me because of a date? Men."
I washed my hair aggressively.
"And Matteo wasn't even bad. He was actually nice. He complimented my dress. He listened. He smiled. He didn't scare me or bark orders or demand answers."
My chest tightened. Why did that make me sad?
I closed my eyes under the water.
"He was nice," I repeated softly.
But the truth was... I didn't feel anything. Not one spark. Not one flutter. Not even an eyelash twitch of excitement. Just... nothing. I felt like he was a cousin.
And a certain dark haired, tattooed man wouldn't leave my head no matter how hard I tried.
"Nico's always sweet to me," I whispered. "Even when he's not sweet."
My anger wavered, just a little.
But then I remembered the way everyone stared he walked in.
"No," I said quickly. "Nope. I'm still mad. I am very mad."
I stepped out of the shower, dried my hair, threw on pajamas, and crawled under the covers.
"I can deal with this tomorrow," I mumbled.
I closed my eyes.
But his voice echoed in my head. You don't understand what kind of family he's from.
I clenched my fists under the blanket.
"Whatever, Nico. I don't even know what family you're from either."
And finally, exhaustion knocked me out.
????
"Babe," Nessa said the second she saw me walk into the lab, "I heard the date was... a disaster."
I groaned immediately. "Nessa, please. I don't want to relive it."
She winced. "Matteo said some guy interrupted. Some guy who looked like he walked out of a mafia movie. Please tell me that was an exaggeration."
I stared at her.
Nessa blinked.
"Oh my god," she whispered. "It wasn't an exaggeration."
"It was bad," I muttered. "Really bad."
She held her heart. "I am so sorry. I feel like this is my fault because I forced you to go."
I rolled my eyes. "It's fine, Nessa. You were trying to help. Nico just... ya."
She perked up suddenly. "Okay. So. New plan."
I raised an eyebrow. "I'm scared."
"You should be," she said dramatically. "Because tonight? We are going OUT. Like properly out. You turned twenty-one and you haven't gone to a single club. This is a crime. I'm fixing it."
I blinked. "You want to go to a club."
"Yes, babe," she said confidently. "Upper Manhattan. Cool lights. Good music. Hot men. Drinks on me. You need to forget boys. Forget dates. Forget mr scary Mafia looking man interrupting."
I snorted. "He's not a mafia anything Nessa."
He looks scary but not mafia scary. Just Nico scary.
"Mm-hmm," she hummed. "Anyway. We're going tonight. No excuses."
I tried to hide my smile. "Honestly... that's one of the best ideas you've ever had."
She gasped. "Did that actually work? You said yes?"
"Yes," I laughed. "I'm down."
"YES," she said, pumping her fist. "We're going to party. We're going to dance. We're going to be hot and mysterious. And if you want, we can even pretend your name is something like... Angelina."
I rolled my eyes. "I think I'll stick with Daria."
Her eyes softened. "Perfect. Now go home, babe. We're meeting at nine."
The club was very packed.
Not like normal packed.
Like this was where all the secret hot people of New York came to breathe and party packed.
Underground lighting. Dark neon purples and pinks. A bass so deep I felt it in my chest. The smell of perfume, cologne, alcohol, sweat, and excitement filled the air.
Nessa grabbed my hand like a kid about to run into a candy store.
"Oh my god, babe, LOOK AT THIS PLACE."
I laughed as Nessa dragged me inside. She was in full party-mode tonight. She wore a glittery cropped top that sparkled under every neon light, paired with a black leather miniskirt and knee-high boots that somehow made her look even taller.
Her makeup was flawless, blended perfectly into her warm brown skin, highlighting her beautiful South Asian features. She looked like belonged in this party world. Unlike me. Still new. Still shy.
We pushed through bodies, heat, laughter. Hands in the air. Music pulsing. People doing shots. People grinding. People making out in corners.
Nessa pulled me to the bar.
"Two tequila shots," she told the bartender.
"Nessa—"
"Daria, you're twenty-one. We're doing this."
I sighed. "Fine."
The bartender slid over two tiny glasses.
We clinked.
I took the shot.
My entire body said absolutely not.
"Oh my god," I coughed.
Nessa giggled. "Lightweight."
"Rude."
She grabbed my hands and pulled me to the dance floor.
We danced, flipped our hair, laughed, and made stupid faces at each other.
A guy tried to dance with me.
I smiled politely and shook my head. Girls night only.
The music got louder, lights brighter, heartbeat lighter.
Nessa got pulled by some guy with fluffy hair and a cute smile. She screamed-laughed as he spun her.
"I LOVE HIM," she yelled at me from across the floor.
"You met him four minutes ago," I yelled back.
"I LOVE HIM."
I laughed so hard I nearly fell over.
I danced by myself, letting the music move through me. Nothing heavy, nothing stressful. Just... freeing.
More shots, more dancing.
After a while, I felt a little dizzy.
"Bathroom," I whispered to myself.
I made my way through the crowd, pushing open the bathroom door. Inside, a girl was touching up lipstick in the mirror. She glanced over and smiled.
"You look so pretty," she told me, her voice warm.
I smiled back. "You too."
She grinned. "Girl, thank you."
We both laughed for no reason other than being drunk. I fixed my lip gloss and headed out again. Nessa spotted me instantly and wrapped her arms around me.
"Babe, I think we're drunk," she said very seriously.
"I think we are too."
"We're so pretty," she giggled.
"We really are."
We burst out laughing again, clinging to each other as the music pounded.
For the first time all week, I wasn't stressed.
I wasn't thinking about my parents, Matteo, work.
I wasn't thinking about—
My smile faltered for half a second.
I wasn't thinking about Nico.
At least... I was trying not to.
But even in the loudest room in Manhattan... part of me wondered if he knew how much fun I'm having tonight.
If he was still angry or was somewhere thinking about me too. I shook the thought off. Tonight was for fun.
Tonight was for me.