The sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft, golden patterns on the walls of Riu's apartment. She sat by the open window, the warm breeze carrying the scent of summer into the room. The city outside was bustling, but inside, there was a quiet calm. Riu's fingers moved lazily over the sketchpad, her pencil outlining the curves of a figure—a man, tall and muscular, with defined arms and a strong chest.
But something was missing.
The face. She couldn't bring herself to sketch his face, though her mind hovered around a familiar image. There was a vague sense of who this man could be, but she didn't want to admit it. Not even to herself.
She paused, glancing out the window as Sam Cooke's soulful voice played through the speakers, filling the air with a nostalgic warmth. It was one of those songs that always made her feel like time had slowed, like the world outside wasn't rushing forward as fast as it usually did. It was her favorite kind of Sunday—quiet, reflective, and filled with the comfort of her own thoughts.
The room around her was a mess, as it often was when she was deep into her creative process. Sketches and unfinished paintings lay scattered across the floor, brushes dipped in dried paint, canvases leaning against the walls, waiting for her to come back to them. The chaos didn't bother her. In fact, she found comfort in it—it was like each piece of clutter told its own story.
Just as she was about to add more details to the sketch, the sound of a car pulling up outside broke her concentration. She glanced toward the window and instantly recognized the sleek form of Lana's Bentley Continental GT. The engine hummed low and smooth before it cut off.
Without missing a beat, Lana and Soumya strolled into the apartment, not even bothering to knock, their presence filling the space with energy.
"You know, locking your door is an option, right?" Lana teased, her voice light and playful as she made her way inside. She glanced around at the scattered sketches and paintings, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she approached the clutter. "Honestly, Riu, it looks like a tornado blew through here."
Riu smiled, standing up from her desk, brushing a few stray hairs from her face. "I like it this way. Organized chaos, remember?" she replied, her tone casual but with a hint of embarrassment. She wasn't used to having visitors barge in unannounced, but with Lana, it was always like this—spontaneous, unfiltered.
Soumya's eyes scanned the room, but they quickly landed on the sketch Riu had been working on. She raised an eyebrow, her tone a little too casual as she asked, "What's this?"
Riu felt her heart skip a beat, a faint blush creeping up her neck as she glanced down at the unfinished drawing. "Oh, that? Just something random," she said quickly, not wanting to dwell on it. "I wasn't really thinking about anything specific."
But Lana, always quick to pick up on unspoken feelings, leaned in to get a closer look at the sketch. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Random, huh? Or maybe this is your way of sketching Zane Holloway without admitting it to yourself?" Her tone was teasing, but there was a knowing look in her eyes.
Riu rolled her eyes, though she couldn't shake the sudden tightness in her chest. "I don't like him," she mumbled, her voice a little too defensive. "He's... not my type."
But even as she said the words, her mind betrayed her, flashing back to the moment she had locked eyes with Zane. The way his gaze had held hers for just a moment longer than necessary. There had been something in his eyes—something sad, something she didn't fully understand, but it had stayed with her ever since.
"Sure," Lana said, drawing out the word with a smirk. "You totally don't like him. That's why you're sketching some random hot guy with no face."
Soumya remained quiet, her eyes flicking between the sketch and Riu's face. There was something in her expression—a flicker of... jealousy? It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but Riu caught it out of the corner of her eye. Soumya's usual warmth seemed a little muted, but she quickly changed the subject.
"Hey, Riu, since you're so into art, there's an exhibition happening today. It's supposed to feature some of the top painters in the country," Soumya said, her voice eager as she moved away from the conversation about Zane.
Lana perked up, sensing the opportunity to shift gears. "Yes! Let's go. It'll be fun. Plus, you never know—we might meet some cute guys," she added with a wink.
Riu smiled, grateful for the distraction. Art was her escape, her way of processing the world, and the thought of spending the afternoon surrounded by it was exactly what she needed. "Okay," she said, setting down her sketchpad. "Give me a minute to change."
---
Riu stood in front of her closet, staring at the rows of clothes. She wanted something simple but elegant, something that would let her blend into the crowd but still feel like herself. After a moment of indecision, she slipped into a flowing off-white cotton dress that grazed her knees. The delicate lace along the hem gave it a soft, feminine touch, and she paired it with a light scarf draped loosely around her neck. The look was effortless, but it made her feel... put together.
When she stepped out of her room, Lana and Soumya both turned to look at her.
"Wow, you look gorgeous," Lana said, her tone genuine.
Riu shrugged, a little embarrassed by the attention. "It's just a dress," she said, but she appreciated the compliment nonetheless.
The three of them piled into Lana's Bentley, the windows down as the warm breeze blew through their hair. Taylor Swift's voice played softly through the speakers as they drove along the winding roads, the hills rolling by in the distance. The laughter and easy conversation between them filled the car, and for a moment, Riu allowed herself to forget about everything else—about Zane, about the strange feelings she couldn't quite shake.
---
The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the vibrant art exhibition.The entrance gate was grand, adorned with twinkling lights and colorful banners that read, "Masterpieces of Modern Art: An Exhibition of American Realism." The atmosphere was alive with conversation, the murmur of voices blending with the soft background music. Riu, Lana, and Soumya strolled through the exhibition, admiring the works of art that lined the walls. The venue buzzed with energy—artists mingling with art lovers, while people sipped wine and moved from one masterpiece to the next.
Riu was in her element, her eyes lighting up as she took in the intricate brushstrokes and the emotions captured in each piece. She paused in front of a striking painting—a vivid portrayal of a stormy sea, the waves crashing violently against the shore, while a lone figure stood at the edge of a cliff, staring into the chaos. It was breathtaking.
"Wow..." Riu whispered, her fingers lightly brushing the frame as if she could feel the energy from the painting. "This... this is incredible. The way the artist captured the raw power of nature, the emotion behind it... you can almost feel the tension, the pull between beauty and destruction."
Lana raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by Riu's insight. "You really know your stuff, don't you? I wouldn't have noticed half of that."
Before Riu could respond, a deep voice cut through the air behind them. "You've got a good eye."
Riu turned, surprised to see Logan Cruz standing there, a soft smile playing on his lips. He was dressed in a white coat, his usual swagger toned down, replaced by something more thoughtful. He looked different—less like the bad boy everyone knew him to be and more like... an artist.
"Thanks for appreciating it," Logan continued, his tone casual but sincere. "It's one of my latest pieces. Took me about a month to finish."
Riu blinked, caught off guard. "You... painted this?"
Logan chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know. Not exactly what people expect from me, right?" His smile was laced with amusement, but there was a vulnerability there too—a quiet pride in his work.
Riu stared at the painting again, her admiration deepening. "It's not just art—it's a masterpiece. The way you've captured the storm... it's more than just the waves. It feels like a reflection of inner turmoil, like the sea is alive, battling against itself."
Logan's eyes flickered with surprise, and for a moment, he looked genuinely taken aback. "You really get it, don't you?" he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was seeing Riu for the first time. "Most people just see the surface—waves, colors, whatever. But you... you actually understand the story behind it."
Riu smiled, her voice light but confident. "I've always been drawn to art that tells a story. I think that's what makes realism so powerful—it's not just about what you see, but what you feel. The struggle, the emotion, the truth."
Logan's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, clearly impressed. He wasn't used to meeting people who saw him beyond his reputation, much less someone who understood his art so deeply.
"You know," Logan said, leaning against the wall with an easy grin, "I've met a lot of people who say they know art, but you... you've got real insight. I don't think I've ever met anyone who's talked about one of my pieces like that."
Riu felt a small rush of pride but quickly waved it off. "It's just something I'm passionate about. I've studied art for a long time." She paused, then added with a friendly smile, "By the way, I'm Riya Kapoor."
Logan straightened up slightly, offering his hand. "Logan Cruz," he said, his voice dropping to a smoother, more personal tone as they shook hands. "Pleasure to meet you, Riya."
Their hands lingered for a moment longer than necessary, and there was a spark of connection between them—something unexpected, something intriguing.
"So, you're into art, huh?" Logan asked, genuinely curious now. "You seem like you know more than just the basics."
Riu nodded. "Yeah. It's been my passion for as long as I can remember. I've always been fascinated by how art can express things that words can't—how it captures emotions in ways that are hard to explain."
Logan studied her for a second, his eyes scanning her face like he was trying to figure her out. "I didn't expect that. Most people see me as... well, you know. The guy who's always getting into fights or causing trouble. But this," he gestured to the painting, "this is the side of me that no one really cares about."
Riu could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and for a moment, she felt a strange sympathy for him. He wasn't just the cocky bad boy she'd heard about. There was more to him—something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface.
"Well," Riu said softly, meeting his gaze, "it looks like you're more than just your reputation."
Logan smiled, a real smile this time, not the cocky grin he usually wore. "Thanks, Riya. You're different from most people. I mean that."
For a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them in a quiet bubble of connection. Logan was used to people treating him like a player, someone who didn't care about anything but himself. But with Riu, it was different. She saw him—not just the reputation, but the person behind it.
"Hey," Logan said after a pause, his voice shifting slightly, "I've got a studio at home with some more pieces I've been working on. If you're interested, you should stop by sometime. I'd love to hear what you think."
Riu hesitated, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. She could feel the pull, the curiosity about Logan's art, but there was still something that held her back.
"Thanks for the offer, Logan," she said carefully, handing back the small card with his address. "But I think I'll pass."
Logan didn't seem disappointed. Instead, he smiled, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. "No worries. The door's always open if you change your mind."
With that, he gave her a nod and turned to leave, disappearing into the crowd with a kind of effortless grace that left Riu standing there, her thoughts swirling.
---
Sitting outside with Lana and Soumya, Riu sipped her drink, trying to process what had just happened. The evening air was cooler now, and the soft hum of conversation surrounded them as people continued to wander the exhibition grounds.
"I never would've guessed Logan Cruz was an artist," Lana said, shaking her head in disbelief. "That guy's full of surprises."
Riu stared into her cup, still feeling the lingering weight of her conversation with Logan. "Yeah... I didn't expect that either."
Soumya, who had been quiet for most of the evening, finally chimed in, her voice teasing. "But you've got to admit, Riu, he's pretty hot when he's not punching someone in the face."
Lana laughed, nodding in agreement. "Definitely. I mean, he's got that bad boy thing going on, but there's more to him than that."
Riu smiled but remained quiet. There was more to Logan, sure, but it wasn't the bad boy charm that stuck with her. It was the way he had opened up about his art, about how no one saw that side of him. It was the vulnerability in his voice, the way he had seemed... real.
But even as she thought about Logan, her mind couldn't help but drift to Zane. There was something about him that still lingered in the back of her mind, like an unsolved puzzle. She had barely spoken to him, but the sadness in his eyes had left an impression on her.
---
### After the Suspension Period
Thirty days had passed since Zane and Logan were suspended, but the energy at Redwood University was as alive as ever. The sun shone brightly, the air warm and fresh, the campus filled with students rushing between classes. It was the kind of day that made everything seem a little lighter, like the world had reset itself after the chaos of the past month.
Lana's Bentley glided smoothly along the road, picking up Riu and Soumya from their homes. The girls had spent much of the last few weeks together, bonding over classes and shared experiences. As they drove toward campus, the breeze played with their hair, Taylor Swift's music playing softly in the background, the atmosphere light and carefree.
They pulled into the parking lot, stepping out of the car and making their way toward the main entrance. The sound of laughter and conversation filled the air, students scattered across the lawns, enjoying the sunny weather.
But just as they were about to walk toward their classes, the distinct growl of a motorcycle engine caught their attention. Riu's heart skipped a beat.
It was Zane.
He arrived on his Ducati, the deep roar of the engine announcing his presence before he even came into view. He pulled into the parking lot, his movements fluid and effortless as he swung off the bike. His dark hair ruffled slightly in the breeze as he removed his helmet, and for a moment, it felt like the world around them had paused.
Riu's eyes found his immediately. Their gazes locked, and for a split second, everything else faded away. There was something in his eyes—something raw, unguarded. A flicker of vulnerability that made Riu's chest tighten.
"Is he staring at you?" Lana whispered, nudging Riu with her elbow.
Riu blinked, breaking the spell, and quickly looked away. "I don't know. Probably not."
But she knew that wasn't true. There was a tension in the air between them—something unspoken, something that made her pulse quicken. Zane's expression was calm, but there was a heaviness in his eyes, as if he were carrying the weight of something far too heavy for him to bear.
As Zane turned away, walking toward the entrance of the university, Riu let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.
"That was... strange," she muttered under her breath, her voice soft and thoughtful.
Lana raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Strange? Or just undeniable chemistry?"
Riu rolled her eyes, but her mind was already elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking about Zane—about the way his eyes had seemed to see right through her. There was something about him that she couldn't quite figure out, but she knew one thing for sure—he wasn't like anyone she had ever met.
---
Inside the classroom, the girls found their usual seats as the English professor, Miss Smith, began the day's lesson. The room was quieter than usual, with only a handful of students present. Riu settled into her seat, trying to focus on the class, but her mind kept drifting back to Zane.
Miss Smith called on Riu to answer a question about the tragic hero in classic literature.
"Tell me, Riya, how do you interpret the significance of the tragic hero in classic literature? Why do you think authors often choose to show the downfall of characters with great potential?"
Riu paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I think the tragic hero reflects real life. Even the most powerful or admired people have flaws, and their downfall is a result of their own choices. It's a way of showing that greatness doesn't protect you from your own weaknesses."
Miss Smith smiled, nodding approvingly. "Exactly. It's the internal conflict and external pressures that make a tragic hero compelling. Well done, Riya."
Riu felt a small sense of pride as she sat back down, but her mind was somewhere else.
---
After class, the girls made their way to the football field, where Logan Cruz's team was playing in a high-stakes match. The atmosphere was electric, the crowd buzzing with excitement. Logan, as always, was the center of attention, his every move on the field commanding the crowd's focus.
The game was tied, and the tension was palpable. Logan's team was pushing hard, and Logan himself was in full control, moving with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.
Then, in a blur of movement, Logan broke through the defense, his eyes locked on the goal. With a powerful kick, the ball soared through the air, hitting the back of the net with a satisfying thud.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Logan's teammates lifted him onto their shoulders, chanting his name. "Logan! Logan!"
From the stands, Riu couldn't help but watch, her eyes following Logan as he celebrated his victory. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that drew people in. But as Logan's gaze found hers in the crowd, a chill ran down her spine.
He made his way over, a confident grin on his face as he approached the girls. "Hey, Riya," he said, his voice smooth and full of charm. "Good to see you again."
Riu gave him a polite smile, but there was a part of her that felt uneasy under Logan's intense gaze. He was charming, no doubt, but there was something about him that made her want to keep her guard up.
"You should be celebrating with your team, not talking to me," Riu said lightly, trying to deflect the attention. Her tone was polite but carried a hint of distance.
Logan smirked, clearly not deterred. "I'd rather be talking to you. Out of all the people here, you're the one I've been looking for." His voice lowered slightly, a little too smooth, like he was used to getting what he wanted.
Riu shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing. "I'm sure there are plenty of people here who would love your attention, Logan. Go enjoy your win."
He leaned in just a fraction, his eyes still locked on hers. "I will. But don't think I've forgotten our little chat at the art exhibition. You're different, Riya. I like different."
Before Riu could respond, Lana stepped in with a light laugh, trying to ease the tension. "Okay, Logan, go celebrate. We'll see you around."
Logan chuckled, giving Riu one last look before turning back toward the field. "I'll see you soon, Riya. Don't worry."
As he walked away, the crowd around them began to thin out, and Riu let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. There was something about Logan's confidence that unsettled her—like he was playing a game and she was just a part of it.
"What was that about?" Lana asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't interested in Logan."
"I'm not," Riu replied quickly, her voice firmer than she expected. "He's just... intense."
Lana nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yeah, he is. But he's definitely into you. You can tell."
Riu shrugged, still feeling a little shaken. "That's the problem."
---
From a distance, Zane watched the interaction unfold, his jaw tight. He had seen the way Logan looked at Riu, the way he talked to her like she was something to be won. It made Zane's stomach twist in a way he hadn't expected.
He didn't know Riu all that well, but there was something about her that made him feel... protective. Like she didn't deserve to get caught up in Logan's games.
Zane stayed in the shadows, watching for a few more moments before turning away, feeling the weight of his own unresolved emotions pulling him in different directions. As much as he wanted to confront Logan, to warn him to stay away from Riu, he knew it wasn't his place. Not yet.
---
Zane sat alone in his dimly lit room, the soft strum of his guitar the only sound breaking the silence. His fingers moved mechanically over the strings, but his mind wasn't on the music. It was elsewhere—drifting back to the brief, unexpected conversation he'd had with Riu that day.
Her words kept playing over and over in his mind, like a song on repeat, the melody soft but persistent.
"You're going to be great, Zane. I can tell."
There had been something in her voice—a sincerity that he hadn't heard in a long time. He wasn't used to people saying things like that to him, much less meaning it. Most of the time, people either saw him as a guy who didn't give a damn or expected him to live up to some version of himself that he didn't even recognize anymore.
But Riu's words had been different. She wasn't just trying to cheer him up, and she definitely wasn't throwing empty compliments his way. It was like she saw something in him that he hadn't even seen in himself.
He set the guitar down, his fingers trembling slightly. The room felt smaller, heavier, like the weight of everything he'd been trying to bury was starting to creep back in. Grief, anger, confusion—it all seemed to swirl inside him, tightening like a noose around his chest.
The memory of his father flashed in his mind again, that familiar ache settling in his gut. His father had always believed in him, always pushed him to pursue music, to be something more. And now, he was gone.
Zane clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as the familiar wave of frustration hit him. He hated this feeling—this helplessness, this constant push and pull between wanting to move forward and being stuck in the past.
Without thinking, he stood up and walked to the window, grabbing the half-empty pack of cigarettes off the desk. He slid one out, placing it between his lips as he flicked the lighter, the small flame casting flickering shadows against the wall.
The first drag was sharp, filling his lungs with smoke, but the sensation was grounding. He leaned against the windowsill, exhaling slowly as he watched the thin stream of smoke curl into the night air. The cold breeze slipped through the open window, brushing against his skin, but it didn't do much to cool the fire burning inside him.
His thoughts drifted back to Riu again. He didn't know why she kept popping into his mind, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about her—something that pulled him in, even if he didn't fully understand it. She was different from the other girls at Redwood.
"I don't know what you're going through, but things will heal," she had said.
Zane let out a bitter laugh, taking another drag of the cigarette. Will they? he wondered. He wasn't sure he believed that. Things felt broken, and he didn't know how to fix them. But for some reason, Riu's words had stuck. They were like a lifeline he didn't know he needed.
It was a strange feeling, one he hadn't experienced in a long time. Most people didn't look past his exterior, didn't bother to understand what was going on beneath the surface. But Riu had, without even trying.
Zane sighed, flicking the cigarette ash out the window. The smoke swirled around him, mixing with the night air, but it didn't offer the relief he was hoping for. He took another drag, his thoughts spinning, his mind full of questions he didn't have answers to.
What was it about her?
—
The day passed in a blur, and by the time Riu got home, she was mentally exhausted. The encounter with Logan still played on her mind, and she couldn't shake the strange feeling it left behind. She sat down on her bed, letting out a sigh, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the tension from the day.
But her phone buzzed, pulling her back to reality. It was a text from an unknown number.
"See you soon, Riya Kapoor. - L"
Riu stared at the message, her heart skipping a beat. Logan. How had he even gotten her number?
Her stomach twisted as she read the words, her mind immediately flashing to Logan. How had he even gotten her number? And why did his message make her feel so uneasy?
She tossed the phone onto the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest as she tried to make sense of everything. Logan was charming, sure, but there was something about him that felt off. His interest in her was too intense, too focused, like she was just another conquest in his endless game.
But despite herself, she couldn't help but wonder if she was being too harsh. Maybe Logan wasn't as bad as his reputation suggested. Maybe there was more to him than the swagger and the charm. Or maybe, she thought, she was just fooling herself.
But even as she tried to shake off the uneasy feeling Logan's message gave her, she couldn't help but think about Zane. The way he had looked at her earlier that day—the sadness in his eyes, the heaviness that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. There was a vulnerability there, something that made her want to reach out, to offer him some kind of comfort, even though she barely knew him.
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. What is happening to me? she wondered. Redwood was supposed to be a fresh start, a place where she could focus on her career, on building something for herself. But now, here she was—caught between two guys who were both pulling her in different directions.
Logan was bold, confident, and relentless in his pursuit of her. Zane was quieter, more complex, carrying a weight that she couldn't fully understand. And yet, it was Zane who seemed to stay in her mind long after their brief encounters.
There was something about him—something real, something raw. And despite everything, she couldn't help but feel drawn to him.
As the night wore on, Riu tried to push the thoughts aside, but deep down, she knew that things were only going to get more complicated from here.
---
Zane finished his cigarette, flicking the butt out the window before closing it with a soft click. He leaned against the wall, staring at the floor, his mind still racing.
Riu's voice echoed in his head again.
"You're going to be great, Zane. I can tell."
For the first time in a long time, he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, she was right.