Ms. Perfect's Imperfection

Chapter 3

I froze, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Slowly, I turned to see a tall guy leaning against the wall, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he took a drag of his cigarette. His eyes were dark and unreadable, glinting with an amused sort of curiosity as he watched me struggle to regain my dignity.

"Excuse me?" I managed to say, trying to sound composed even as my stomach still churned.

He shrugged, flicking ash to the ground. "What? It's a compliment."

I shot him a glare, crossing my arms defensively. “Glad to know my suffering is so entertaining for you.”

I shot him a glare, crossing my arms defensively. “Glad to know my suffering is so entertaining for you.”

Unfazed, he held out a handkerchief along with a bottle of water. “Here.”

I hesitated but took them, wiping my mouth and taking a cautious sip. “Thanks,” I muttered, eyeing him warily. “Consider this payback for making fun of me.”

He didn’t respond, just smiled in a way that made me uneasy—like he knew something I didn’t. Without another word, he turned and disappeared back into the crowd.

When I made my way inside, I found Arielle slouched on the bar, dozing off. As I approached, she lifted her head, eyes bleary. “Sky!! Where’d you go?” she slurred, her smile lopsided.

The bartender chuckled, wiping down a glass. “Your friend’s had quite the night.”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at her with a sigh. “I think it’s time to head home.”

Arielle perked up suddenly, reaching for her drink. “One last shot!” she declared, waving the glass in front of me. “Then we go. Promise.”

“Fine,” I relented, but something about the drink seemed… off. I took a small sip, but before I could react, the world tilted, and a foggy numbness crept over me.

The next thing I knew, I was drifting in and out of consciousness. Voices surrounded me, distant and jumbled. I felt someone moving me, and then a familiar voice cut through the haze, sharp and demanding.

“A cheap trick to get a girl, huh, Jace?”

The bartender’s low growl responded, his tone dripping with anger. “Who the hell are you?”

“Just someone who’ll kill you right here if you don’t let her go.”

Another voice chimed in, tense and impatient. “Jace, hurry up. Everyone’s waiting. Just take him down.”

I couldn’t fully make sense of what was happening. My vision blurred, and all I could make out were fragments—someone grunting in pain, bodies moving, voices clashing.

Then, a new group of people arrived. One of them stepped forward, speaking to the guy who’d come to my rescue.

“Wait… is that—”

“Yeah,” my rescuer confirmed, his tone steady and commanding. “Take her home. If her family sees me near their place, they’ll get the wrong idea again. I’ll give her friend a ride.”

-

I woke up with a jolt, my body as tense as if I’d been dropped into ice water. My chest tightened as I realized someone was lying beside me—a stranger, his arm draped over me like we were anything but that. A single tear slipped down my cheek, frustration welling up in my chest alongside a sinking ache of regret and confusion.

Carefully, I slid his arm off, praying he wouldn’t wake up. I checked around for my things, gathering them in silence, my mind racing to piece together the broken fragments of last night. Glancing at my phone, I saw it was barely five in the morning.

As I slipped out of the flat, a heavy weight pressed down on me, the stillness outside feeling strangely raw. I walked, my tears falling freely now, each one echoing the sharp sting of uncertainty and vulnerability as I tried to make sense of everything.

As I reached the dorm, I was relieved to see the gate already open. I hurried to my room, hands shaking as I gathered some fresh clothes. I barely made it to the shower before the tears started, hot and unrelenting, spilling over as the water poured down. The whole night felt like a nightmare, each thought chipping away at my sense of self-control until I felt ready to crumble.

Taking a leave from class crossed my mind, but the Dean's warnings echoed, reminding me of the stakes. And Arielle… she probably wouldn't make it to class, knowing her.

“s**t!” I whispered, realizing I hadn’t checked in with her. I quickly dialed her number, holding my breath until she picked up.

“What?” she answered groggily, her voice scratchy.

“Where are you?”

“What are you talking about?” she mumbled. “Home, of course. Why?”

I bit my lip, relieved and frustrated all at once. “Uhh… nothing. Go back to sleep. I’ll get ready and head to class.”

“Damn. I envy you,” she sighed before hanging up.

I forced a laugh, masking the ache that felt like it might spill over again.

-

I sat in class, trying to focus on the professor’s voice, but his words felt like raindrops hitting a window—there, but not quite breaking through. My mind kept slipping back, against my will, to hazy fragments of last night. The feeling of his warmth close to mine, the soft, gentle pressure of his lips. His scent, unfamiliar but strangely comforting, lingered like an echo, pulling me back into a moment I couldn’t quite piece together.

I remembered flashes—the curve of his smile, the softness of his hand brushing against my skin. There had been something electrifying yet calm about his presence, something I couldn’t explain. A quiet confidence. A gentleness that melted away my usual guard.

But no matter how hard I tried to reach back and make sense of it, there was nothing solid, no beginning to the story. Just fragments. The kiss, and then another. The feeling of his fingers tracing along my skin, the way his voice softened to a whisper when he spoke. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember how it had started or how we’d gotten to that point.

And then, the memory shifted, darkening like a cloud passing over the sun. I felt a pang of guilt, shame even, as I remembered waking up and feeling the weight of regret in my chest. I swallowed, trying to push the memories away, but they clung like static, filling every empty space in my mind.

A sudden cough from across the room snapped me back to the present, and I blinked, realizing the professor was calling on me. My cheeks burned, and I stammered through a response, hoping no one could sense the turmoil roiling just beneath the surface.

I needed to put it out of my mind, to focus on something concrete and safe. But every time I tried, I found myself pulled back into those fragmented moments. And the gnawing thought that I might never remember the whole story made me feel like I was floating, untethered, trying to grasp something that had already slipped away.

The day dragged to a close, and as usual, Arielle was nowhere to be found. I tried not to let it bother me. I headed straight to the library for a quiet break, my body craving the stillness that only a tucked-away corner could provide.

Peace. Quiet.

When I rounded the last shelf, I noticed someone already in the far corner, slouched in the chair, hoodie pulled over his face, clearly asleep. His face was hidden, but he looked tall, his legs stretched out lazily, his breathing slow and steady. I was too exhausted to search for another spot, so I sat a few chairs away, letting the silence settle over me like a blanket.

I closed my eyes, just for a moment, feeling the dull ache in my body from last night—my head pounding, my body sore in ways I hadn’t expected. I clenched my jaw, willing myself to ignore the sharp twinge that lingered below, a painful reminder of the things I couldn’t quite remember.

Just as I was sinking deeper into my thoughts, a low, familiar voice cut through the quiet, smooth and unsettlingly close.

“That's rude,” he murmured, his tone laced with a hint of amusement. “Leaving someone behind without even a goodbye… don’t you think?”

My eyes shot open, my heart stalling. The voice, that voice. I knew it. I froze, my pulse racing as he lifted his head, the hood falling back just enough for me to see him.

It was him.

"What..." I was lost in words. "Y-you're here? W-what are you doing here?"

He didn't respond, instead, he gave me a smirk as he lets down his hoodie.

"Hi Skyllar."

And just like that, my world tilted everything from the night before rushing back in a disorienting wave.