Graduation was supposed to be a day of celebration, a day of new beginnings. Instead, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything Anastasia had lost. The cap and gown felt heavy on her shoulders, not from the weight of achievement, but from the absence of the one person who should have been there.
Bastian.
She kept her chin high as cameras flashed, as her family cheered from the stands—well, most of them. Britney was nowhere to be seen. No surprise there. And Beth? She had no choice but to come, still desperately trying to claw her way back into Wyatt's good graces after what she had done. Anastasia barely spared her a glance.
She made a promise to Bastian—to live. To keep moving forward. That was the only reason she didn't fall apart as she gripped her diploma and forced a smile for the pictures.
A few weeks later, she made good on that promise. University was the next step, and she refused to let grief hold her back. Moving into a campus dorm felt right. Close enough to home to see her brothers, far enough to breathe on her own. Her father was supportive but hesitant. He didn't say it outright, but she knew he wished she'd stay. He didn't understand—she couldn't stay. Not in that house. Not with those memories suffocating her.
"Hey, Ana!"
A familiar, excited voice snapped her from her thoughts. She barely had time to react before a whirlwind of red hair and perfume crashed into her, squeezing her in a tight hug.
"Rose!" Anastasia laughed, hugging her back.
Rose pulled away, practically vibrating with excitement. "Billy and I are going to an after-party, and you have to come."
Anastasia hesitated, immediately uneasy. She wasn't a party girl, never had been. The last party she went to was with Bastian, and even then, it was only bearable because he was there.
"I don't know…"
"Oh, c'mon, Ana, pleeease?" Rose pouted dramatically.
Anastasia sighed. "Fine."
Rose squealed and turned to Billy, who grinned. "Awesome! Don't worry, Ana, we've got you." He threw his arms around both girls and led them toward his car.
The house was chaos.
Music thumped so hard it rattled Anastasia's bones, beer was already spilling across the floor, and half the people were either dancing on furniture or laughing at nothing.
"Ugh, this place is a zoo," Anastasia muttered, stepping over someone who was already passed out.
Rose laughed. "You'll survive. C'mon, let's get a drink."
Billy disappeared into the crowd, leaving them to fend for themselves. Rose poured two cups of beer and handed one to Anastasia, who took a sip—and instantly regretted it.
"That's disgusting." She coughed, making a face.
"You'll get used to it." Rose smirked.
Anastasia was about to argue when something—or rather, someone—made her blood run cold.
Dylan Fischer.
He walked in like he owned the place, casual, confident—out of place. He wasn't from their high school. What the hell was he doing here?
Rose noticed her reaction and followed her gaze. "Oh my God, my brother's here!" She grabbed Anastasia's hand before she could protest and dragged her straight toward him.
Dylan turned, and the moment his gaze locked on Anastasia, his smirk widened. "Well, well, if it isn't the lovely Ana."
Anastasia clenched her jaw. "Dylan."
Rose blinked between them. "Wait… you two know each other?"
Dylan shrugged. "Yeah, ran into her on campus a while back. She was with her boyfriend. Can't remember his name." His smirk grew sharper. "He hated my guts."
Anastasia stiffened. Her grip on her drink tightened.
"My dear," Dylan continued, voice dripping with mockery, "did the douche leave you alone tonight?"
A sharp, suffocating pain twisted inside her chest. The audacity. The absolute nerve.
"Dylan," Rose snapped, eyes flashing with warning. "Do you remember me telling you about Billy's best friend? The one who died?"
Dylan barely looked fazed. "Yeah?"
Rose's lips pressed into a thin line. "That was her boyfriend."
For a second—just a second—something unreadable flickered across Dylan's face. Then it was gone, replaced by a lazy grin. "Oh. Small world." His voice was too casual. Too indifferent. "I'm sorry for your loss, sweetheart. At least you're single now, right?"
The world slowed.
The music faded.
Anastasia's vision blurred with fury.
Before she knew what she was doing, her arm moved on its own. The entire cup of beer splashed across Dylan's face, drenching his hair, his shirt—everything.
Gasps and laughter erupted around them.
"I'm not your sweetheart," Anastasia said icily, shoving the cup into his chest before turning on her heel and storming out.
Dylan exhaled sharply, wiping the beer from his face. "Well," he muttered, "I guess I deserved that."
Rose crossed her arms. "Damn right you did."
Dylan chuckled, but something gnawed at him. When he saw Anastasia's expression—really saw it—something inside him twisted. That wasn't just anger. That was pain. Raw, ugly pain.
He had to fix this.
Anastasia barely made it outside before her chest tightened. The air felt too thick, her lungs refusing to expand properly. Her vision blurred, hands trembling.
Panic attack.
"Ana!" Rose caught her as she stumbled, but the world was spinning too fast, too loud.
A strong hand cupped her face.
"Hey. Breathe."
That voice—deep, steady, firm yet gentle.
Dylan.
She blinked up at him, disoriented, trying to shove him away, but he held steady.
"Just breathe with me," he murmured, eyes locked on hers. "In… and out. Come on, baby girl, you got this."
Baby girl.
The words sent a shockwave through her system. Not because Dylan said them—but because for a second, just a split second, it didn't sound like Dylan at all.
It sounded like Bastian.
Her breath hitched. Her mind screamed at her that it wasn't possible, that Bastian was gone. But the way Dylan was looking at her now—soft, patient, protective—
It didn't make sense.
She gulped, her breath slowly evening out. "I… I don't know how you did that," she admitted, voice small. "But… thanks."
Dylan gave her a lopsided smile, but Rose was watching him with narrowed eyes.
"What?" he mouthed at her, but she just shook her head.
Billy appeared then, frowning. "What's going on?"
Rose shot Dylan another weird look before answering. "Ana just had a moment."
Billy turned to her, concerned. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Anastasia said, her voice stronger now. "Actually… screw it. I'm getting wasted tonight."
Billy hesitated. "Ana, I don't know if—"
She was already walking away. "You guys coming or what?"
Rose sighed. "This is not going to end well."