Present Day.

Olivia's POV.

There are some days I wake up feeling depressed, I don't wanna get out of bed early, I don't wanna talk to anyone and I definitely don't wanna answer my phone or get the door.

My Mum told me that we all go through that at some point, that it's the circle of life.

We're happy today, we're sad tomorrow.

I hate this feeling, it makes me think about myself way too much, it crowds my mind with curious thoughts and then it goes, like for instance, today, I woke up thinking that maybe, just maybe, Olivia Conner one flipped the car on purpose, maybe it was a suicide mission.

I don't know how I would feel about that one, I don't even know why I've been thinking about that accident a lot lately.

Anyway, moving along, my new roommate Izzy from Britain moved in a week ago and lucky for me, she's not a bitch, we actually have so much in common, it's almost like we've known each other our entire lives.

I spend the day in my painting room, painting my thoughts away while listening to music.

By the time I decide to step out of the room, I'm covered in paint and I feel sticky.

I walk into the kitchen where Izzy and Myra are making dinner while sharing campus gossip and laughing.

I sit on the counter, letting my hand support my chin, smiling at how deep they are in their conversation.

Myra glances at me while laughing, "Are you okay?" She mouths, I nod, smiling at her.

I love her for putting up with my constant mood swings and not questioning me about things that I don't wanna talk about.

I wish I had a friend like her in high school.

"I have a confession to make." Myra raises her hand in the air.

"Confess." Izzy exclaims while Stirring the macaroni in the pot, Myra faces me before she starts talking.

"I didn't have friends like this in high school." She confesses, looking at both of us.

"Bullshit, you're hot, who wouldn't wanna be friends with you?" Izzy scoffs.

"I wasn't always hot, I had mufasa's Lion King hair and shit in my teeth and an ugly smile." Myra rubs her arm like she's getting chills.

Izzy and I exchange a glance and the room turns awfully quiet.

"Well, I was a fucking loner too." Izzy breaks the silence, shrugging it off.

I love how her accent makes the word fuck sound like fork or fack, it makes me smile every time.

"Me too." I huff, remembering how I always had my lunch at the bleachers and how everyone looked at me as that person who survived a car accident but lost her memory.

"If we're ever gonna fight, let's not fight over men, I hate when men break female bonds." Says Izzy.

"Agreed." Myra and I nod in union.

"Speaking of men, I call dibs on the hottie across the hall." I joke and they both scream in excitement.

God, they're so loud.

"I was just about to ask that, did you guys know that the hottest guy on the planet lives right next door?" Izzy points to the front door.

"He's Myra's friend." I laugh.

"And Olive's crush, you should have seen the sexual tension when I introduced them." Myra winks at me, I smile, shaking my head.

"Well, fuck me, why aren't you making a move then?" Izzy playfully slaps me with a rug.

"Ou, I don't know, the guy is either locked in his apartment or he's not in his apartment, he's so antisocial." I mumble.

"Right now, he's locked in his apartment, I tried knocking earlier but he didn't open up." Says Myra.

"Olivia should invite him over for dinner." Izzy smiles at me.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Why not?" Izzy whines.

"Olivia thinks all men are the same but I keep telling her, Jace is different, he's a clean soul, I've literally never seen him interacting with any chick." Myra tells Izzy.

"Oh, so, he's gay." Izzy concludes.

"No, I've met his ex, he's straight." Myra confirms.

"His ex? What's her name?" The question leaves my mouth before I can hold it in.

"Doesn't matter, what matters is this paint." She walks around the counter and starts wiping paint from my left cheek.

"Leave it, it's a part of me." I playfully shove her hands away.

"Aw, how poetic, now go." She pulls me out of the seat, I send her a glare.

"I hate you guys." I stomp my feet as I head out of the kitchen then the apartment.

I stare at his door, looking left and right in the hallway before taking three steps forward.

I swallow, knowing that he's somewhere behind this door, doing God knows what, wait, what if he's with a girl? Maybe that's why he didn't open the door for Myra.

Or maybe he didn't just want to open the door for her.

Yeah, Myra can be pushy sometimes, I wouldn't open it either.

I lift my hand, knocking twice.

No answer.

I grasp the door knob, twisting it and expecting the door to be locked but it squeaks open, the first thing I notice is that the lights are off and the apartment is too quiet.

He didn't get murdered for being too hot, did he?

I release a muffled laugh for thinking something like that.

I let myself in his apartment, looking around the place for any signs of him.

"Jace?" I call in a whisper, inching further and further inside.

The lights from the windows makes the place visible enough for me to walk to the kitchen, I almost jump when I find him sitting down on the floor, drinking liquor from the bottle.

"Geez, Jace, why are you sitting in the dark?" I place my hand over my chest, he looks up at me.

"What are you doing here?" He looks behind me like he didn't hear me come in.

Okay.

"Myra and Izzy are making macaroni and meatballs, we were wondering if-"

"I already ate, thank you." He rudely cuts me off.

Dafuq?

"Okay," I turn on my heel, "Asshole." I mutter underneath my breath and I start walking.

"Liv." He calls behind me, my brows shoot together and I slowly turn around.

"Liv?" I question, feeling my heart race a million miles.

"Sorry, Olivia." He corrects himself, his eyes moving to the floor then back up to my face.

"Yes?" I fold my arms over my chest, he watches me for a beat.

"Stay?" He asks.

"Depends, are you going to be an asshole?" Now I sound rude.

"No, I'm sorry." He says regretfully.

Every wall that I thought I built one minute ago comes crumbling down the second the word sorry escapes his mouth.

I join him on the floor, glancing at his tattooed arm since he's wearing a black tank top.

Fuck, he's so ripped and tattooed and this warmth that engulfs me every time I'm near him confuses me.

"Why are you drinking from a bottle in the dark?" I hug my knees, resting my chin on my arm.

"I don't know, I guess I'm too lazy to grab a cup or turn on the lights or even sit in a chair." He responds, his eyes glued to the bottle in his hand.

That's actually the most depressing thing I've ever heard, more depressing than the day I had.

I don't know how to respond to that so I keep quiet, looking around his apartment.

It's so.... Dead.

There's no color, everything is just so vague, but that's until I set my eyes on the only colorful thing in the room, it's a photograph, well, its taking up a lot of space on that wall so I'm calling it a poster.

"Is that a photograph of Cassandra Richardson on your wall?" I half laugh.

"Yeah." He also looks at the poster.

"Big fan?" I playfully bump his shoulder with mine.

"Not exactly, I took that photograph," he tells me, my jaw drops on the floor.

Cassandra Richardson is a famous young, gorgeous, successful model, she's also into acting but she's best known for modeling, she actually got famous for going out with a famous actor who was almost ten years older than her.

"She's actually from my hometown, her parents literally run that town, I've never met her though." I ramble while staring at the photograph.

"Hmm." Is his response.

"How did you meet her?" I turn my head to look at him.

"Photoshoot, in New York." He doesn't give details.

A man of a few words, I fucking hate it.

He keeps his eyes on the poster when he drinks from the bottle, he shifts his eyes to the floor and a muscle in his jaw twitches.

He kinda looks sad.

"Jace?" I place my hand on his shoulder.

"Mmmm?" He faces me.

"Do you need a hug?" I put on a cheerful smile, he searches my faces, forcing a small smile.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Well, I had a very shitty day, so I definitely need a hug, do you wanna give me a hug?" I internally pinch and slap myself for being a cringey bitch.

He does the whole silent staring thing again, probably battling with those two voices in every person's head, one of them is definitely in for the idea while the other one is totally against it.

He gives in by engulfing me in a hug, my lips stretch into a successful smile, my stomach flattering.

Myra and Izzy are gonna freak.

When you tell them he fucking hugged you? Grow up.

I expect him to pull away at this point but he holds me tighter, burying his face in my neck, his fingers fisting my hair, breathing me in, I feel his breath shake while I freeze, my skin feeling hot and sensitive, my heart racing against my chest.

"Olivia." He whispers in my neck, I swallow, placing my shaking hands on the sides of his face, pulling him away from my neck.

I was going to say something but instead I just end up staring into his eyes, those brown sad eyes, then his lips. Fuck me, his lips.

Honestly? I don't know what I feel around this guy but it's deadly and beautiful at the same time.

I find myself leaning in to meet those lips, he leans in too.

My chest is moving up and down, my brain is screaming his name and my hands are sweating.

His lips ghost over mine but we haven't closed our eyes yet, our lips brush and my breath stills, blood rushes to my ears and my heart wants to escape from it's prison.

God, I feel like a fifth grader.

But, as much as I'm anticipating this kiss, it doesn't happen, he retrieves his hand, his eyes traveling to the poster of Cassandra Richardson.

"I can't." He lets out a heavy breath, "I'm sorry." He grips the back of his neck, my eyes find the star tattoo on his neck.

I bet my life I've seen that somewhere before.

"It's okay, nothing happened, you don't have to apologise." I feel embarrassed and stripped of my dignity.

"I really want to but I just can't," He rasps, not looking at me, "I can't." He mutters to himself before sipping from the bottle.

"You're a mess." I blurt out.

"I know." He faces me.

I feel a little annoyed and stupid so I get up and I walk out on him without saying anything.

The first thing I do the second I step out of his apartment is open my Instagram and search for Cassandra Richardson.

A hundred and one million followers, impressive, lives in New York City, of course.

I scroll down, looking for something, I don't know what but I'll know when I see it.

I keep going down until I finally find it.

It's a picture of Jace, shirtless, on a motorcycle, he has curly brown hair in this picture and he's smiling at the person behind the camera, Hot. The caption says LOML with a heart emoji, I tap on the only person she tagged in the picture, someone called Speedyrider81, the account seems to have been deleted.

I keep scrolling, looking for another picture but all I find is the photograph Jace has on his wall but in black and white, she captioned this one as photographed by pretty lips.

Both these pictures were taken three years ago, he was probably still in high school by then, Cassandra Richardson wasn't as famous three years ago either.

Holy shit.

Did he date thee Cassandra Richardson in high school?

The real question here is, which high school?