Melissa's world, once ruled by loud music, spinning lights, and the bitter burn of liquor, had started to quiet. And in that stillness, something unexpected bloomed: Love.
For David.
He was unlike anyone she'd met. He didn't chase her. He didn't flatter or flirt. He challenged her. Calm, grounded, with a confidence that didn't need to prove itself.
That day, after their group project meeting, he handed her a copy of The Alchemist.
"Read this," he said, a tricky smile on his face. "It might help you figure out what you're really looking for."
She accepted the book, surprised. Nobody had ever given her anything so... intentional.
What Melissa didn't know was that someone had been watching them from the shadows. Someone who didn't like what she saw.
Sierra Langston.
Sierra had transferred from NYU on a full-ride STEM grant, just like David. Brilliant, beautiful, and ambitious, she'd been drawn to him from their first calculus lab. David had been kind—attentive even—but always at a distance.
It gnawed at her.
When she noticed David lingering near Melissa after lectures, her stomach twisted. What could he possibly see in her? A rich girl who smoked her brains out and barely made it to class?
Sierra began inserting herself. Study sessions. Texts. Invites to engineering mixers.
David remained polite. Grateful, even. But never more than that.
Then came the day she saw them walking out of the university café, Melissa laughing in a way she hadn't in years.
Sierra didn't say a word.
But she started watching.
Melissa noticed it. The cold glances. The overheard whispers. Once, when she passed Sierra in the hallway, the other girl muttered just loud enough: "Must be nice having everything handed to you."
Melissa paused.
But she didn't react. Not yet.
One afternoon, as they studied together in the university library:
Melissa's gaze fixed on David.
He wasn't like the men she had been with before. He didn't offer her fleeting compliments or try to impress her with expensive gifts or grand gestures. No, David's charm was different. His words were few but measured, his gaze steady and intense, as if he could see beneath the surface. There was a quiet strength about him that pulled her in, and Melissa found herself wanting to understand him, wanting to see more of the man beneath the calm exterior.
Melissa noticed the way Terver's fingers gently traced the edge of his notebook as he jotted down notes.
"Why do you write so much?" she asked curiously, her eyes following his movements.
David glanced up, meeting her gaze with a faint smile. "I find peace in it. Writing helps me clear my head."
"I never thought about it like that," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I always just... lived for the moment. Never thought about the consequences."
"And what are those consequences?" David asked, his voice low, but the question was sincere.
Melissa paused, her thoughts swirling. "I guess I'm still figuring that out." She looked away, feeling a twinge of vulnerability.
David set down his pen and looked at her directly. "I'm not here to judge you, Melissa. But you don't have to keep running from yourself. There's more to you than the life you've been living."
His words were simple, but they struck a chord deep within her. For the first time, someone was looking at her as more than just the wild party girl. Someone was seeing the person she could be—and, perhaps, the person she had been trying to bury.
"Who's Sierra Langston?"
He looked up from his notebook. "Classmate. Why?"
"She's got it out for me."
David leaned back. "We've worked together. She's smart. I think she expected something from me."
"And?"
"I didn't feel it."
Melissa nodded, but her stomach tightened.
It happened outside the campus arts center.
Sierra waited for Melissa near the steps.
"I need a word," she said sharply.
Melissa raised a brow. "Alright."
"I don't know what kind of game you're playing," Sierra hissed, "but David isn't some trophy for you to win. Some rehab story to tell your friends."
Melissa's fists clenched. "You don't know me. And if David were yours, you wouldn't need to stand here hissing at me."
"You're going to ruin him."
Melissa stepped closer. "Or maybe I'm the one becoming something better... because of him."
They stood in silence for a beat. Then Melissa walked away.
That evening, David called Sierra.
They met on campus. He was kind, but clear.
"I know how you feel. But I can't return it."
"You don't even know her," Sierra said. "She's reckless."
"She was. And she's growing. And I see her in ways no one else has tried to."
Sierra swallowed. "Then there's nothing left to say."
David nodded. "I wish you peace, Sierra."
Melissa sat on her balcony, arms wrapped around her knees. She didn't cry—but she felt the weight of being unwanted, judged.
David arrived quietly.
He knelt beside her.
"She's not a threat," he said. "I only want you."
Melissa looked at him, uncertain.
"Every part of you," he added. "Even the parts still healing. I'm in this. With you."
She let the tears fall, but they weren't from sadness.
They were from knowing—for the first time in a long time—she was chosen.
And that changed everything.