Bad Romance

Chapter 1

"Did you have a fight with Elodia?" I asked, my voice casual as I bent to pick up my clothes scattered across the floor.

Sebastian lay on his side, back turned to me, pretending to chase sleep. But when I spoke, he shifted slightly, eyes flickering toward me—calculating, hesitant. He didn’t need to answer; I could already tell.

Sebastian has always been an easy person to read. When he's happy, sad, or angry, it shows on his face. After knowing him for years, I’ve learned to recognize every flicker of emotion.

“No, we just had a little misunderstanding,” he said, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal. And maybe it wasn’t. Elodia, being who she is, can be dramatic at times—turning small arguments into bigger ones—but she’s also quick to forgive. That’s probably why Seb never gets too bothered about their fights.

“How little was it?” I asked teasingly as I slipped my dress over my head.

You know how Elodia is,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the pillow.

I froze for half a heartbeat.

Yes. I know exactly how Elodia is.

Because Elodia is my best friend.

And I’m f*****g with her boyfriend.

The words echoed in my head like a confession shouted into an empty church. My chest tightened—but not from guilt. There was something darker, sharper—a thrill, maybe. Something I shouldn’t feel but did anyway.

And the worst part? I didn’t care.

As I pulled my top on, I noticed it was ripped. I walked to him, holding the torn fabric between my fingers.

Sebastian laughed, got up, and went into his walk-in closet. After rummaging through his clothes, he came out holding an old varsity jacket.

“Here,” he said, handing it to me.

I hesitated. His name was stitched across the back, bold and familiar. Nobody suspected us—not yet, not ever. We were careful, practiced, and invisible.

It’s not like I’d wear it often, I told myself—just for today.

So I took the jacket. Slipped it on.

The fabric was warm, smelling faintly of him. And as it settled on my shoulders.

After giving me his jacket, he went back to bed. I then looked in the mirror and examined my face. After ensuring I look fine and not just recently been bang, I said my goodbye and went out.

Sebastian and I live in the same condo building so I am quite confident to wear his jacket knowing that I am only one floor away from his and the chance of meeting someone we know is slim.

---

The hallway was quiet—too quiet—as I stepped out of Sebastian’s unit. The door clicked shut behind me, final and damning. I adjusted the jacket around my shoulders, tugging the sleeves down as if I could hide inside it, then walked toward the elevator with the calm of someone who had nothing to lose.

One floor. That was all.

The elevator arrived almost immediately. I exhaled, stepped in, and pressed the button for my floor. The doors began to close—

And stopped.

They slid open again with a soft chime.

Elodia stepped inside.

Time stilled.

She looked radiant in the effortless way she always did—hair still slightly damp, dressed in soft neutrals, smelling faintly of her expensive perfume. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, brightening instantly.

“Isla!” she said, smiling. “What a coincidence.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Hey,” I replied, forcing my lips to curve, my voice steady despite the thunder in my ears.

The doors closed. The elevator began to descend.

Only then did her gaze drop.

To the jacket.

Her smile faltered—not enough to be obvious, just enough for me to notice. She stared at the stitched name across my back, the one I’d convinced myself no one would ever see.

Montgomery.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

“Nice jacket,” Elodia said lightly, though her eyes lingered a second too long. “Didn’t know you liked varsity styles.”

I swallowed. “Oh—this?” I gave a small laugh. “Yeah. A friend lent it to me. It was cold.”

A lie. Thin. Fragile.

She nodded slowly, unreadable. “Looks familiar.”

The elevator hummed. The numbers ticked down one by one.

I could feel it then—the shift. The air between us had changed, sharpened. Elodia leaned against the wall, arms folded, studying my reflection in the mirrored panel like she was searching for something hidden beneath my skin.

“You stayed up late,” she said casually. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I answered too quickly. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”

Her eyes met mine in the mirror.

For a moment, I thought she knew. That somehow, impossibly, she saw everything—the sheets, the whispers, the way his jacket still carried his warmth on my shoulders.

Then the elevator chimed.

My floor.

The doors slid open.

“Well,” Elodia said, smiling again, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “see you in the office.”

“Yeah,” I said, stepping out, my legs unsteady. “See you.”

The doors closed between us.

And as the elevator carried her away, I stood there frozen, knowing one terrible truth—

Fate had already begun to collect its debt.