Fractured Desire

Chapter 6

The house pulsed like it was alive. Windows glowing, bass thudding so hard it shook the pavement as Jax and I walked up the drive. I could already feel the vibration in my bones, heartbeat syncing to the music spilling out of the door. Inside, the air was thick with sweat and perfume and weed smoke. Everyone was moving, grinding, shouting over the music, spilling drinks, slipping in their own chaos.

The song blasting was that one track everyone knew, the one that made the floorboards bounce like a heartbeat—fast, filthy bassline, high-pitched synths screeching like the soundtrack of a breakdown. It made me dizzy. Or maybe that was just me.

Jax disappeared almost immediately, kissed by someone in glitter eyeliner before he even finished his beer. I drifted through the crowd, cigarette hanging off my lips, drink sloshing in my hand. My tights itched, leotard under my dress clinging like a second skin. The whole place was heat and light and noise.

Some girl passed me a little white pill with a smile like she knew all my secrets. I took it without thinking, just swallowed, because why not? My head was already a carousel and I wanted it faster, louder, harder.

Bodies pressed against mine, strangers pulling me into their orbit. Lila found me halfway through the living room, shrieking with laughter, dragging me toward the kitchen where drinks overflowed like rivers. We downed shots until the world tilted and the song shifted into something darker, heavier—bass so low it rattled my teeth.

And then he appeared.

Hunter.

Of course he was here, leaning against the kitchen counter like the party was his. Beer bottle dangling from his hand, jaw sharp, smirk sharper. Eyes locked on me like he’d been waiting.

“You don’t belong here,” he said, voice slicing through the noise.

I scoffed, wiping liquor off my lips with the back of my hand. “Neither do you. Thought you’d be home polishing your stupid trophies.”

He smirked, stepping closer. Too close. His breath was alcohol and mint. “You look ridiculous.”

“Better ridiculous than boring,” I shot back, flicking my hair just to piss him off.

He leaned in, whispering just loud enough to cut. “Everyone laughs at you, Swan. You know that, right? The moody little ballerina who thinks she’s special. You’re a f*****g joke.”

The words dug straight under my skin, sharp and poisonous. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to disappear.

“Go f**k yourself, Hunter,” I hissed, shoving past him.

But he followed, shadow at my back as I stumbled out into the garden. It was cooler out there, air thick with cigarette smoke and chlorine from the pool. People lounged on deck chairs, others splashed around in the water, laughter bubbling like poison.

He cornered me by the poolside, smirk painted across his face like war paint. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re an arsehole,” I snapped.

“And you love it.”

“I’d rather die.”

His smirk twisted, something darker behind it. And then, before I even realized, his hand was on my shoulder, hard, and he shoved.

The water hit like concrete, cold and brutal. My lungs seized, ears roaring, dress wrapping around my legs as I sank. Chlorine burned my throat, my eyes. I kicked, clawed, broke the surface coughing, hair plastered to my face, dress heavy as lead.

Laughter exploded around me. Everyone watching, everyone pointing. Lila’s shocked face on the sidelines. Jax somewhere yelling, but drowned out by the chorus of howls and shrieks.

Hunter stood above, beer in hand, smirk carved into his face like victory.

“You bastard!” I screamed, voice cracking, but it only made them laugh harder.

I dragged myself to the edge, skin raw, body shivering. My chest hurt, humiliation burning hotter than the alcohol in my veins.

Hunter just tilted his head, watching me with that cruel glint in his eye. “Told you, Swan. You don’t belong here.”

And I hated him. God, I hated him so much it ached.