"Care to explain why you're glaring at me like I just kicked your dog?" Julian Voss's voice cut through the hum of the gala, smooth and sharp as a blade wrapped in silk.
I froze, my champagne flute halfway to his lips. The Azure Bay University ballroom glittered around me, all crystal chandeliers and polished marble floors, the kind of place that screamed money and made my skin itch.
I turned slowly, meeting Julian's piercing blue eyes across the crowded room. The guy looked like he'd stepped out of a magazine ad—black tuxedo tailored to his athletic frame, jet-black hair swept back just enough to look effortless, a single silver earring catching the light. That smirk, though, was pure provocation."I don't glare," I said, my voice low, barely audible over the jazz band's sultry notes. "I observe. And what I'm observing is a guy who thinks a fancy suit and a trust fund make him untouchable."
Julian's smirk widened, and he stepped closer, close enough that I caught the faint cedarwood scent of his cologne. "Touchy, Hayes. If I didn't know better, I'd say you're obsessed with me."
My jaw tightened. Obsessed? Hardly. But Julian Voss had been a thorn in my side since the semester started, ever since my blog post about Voss Tech's shady labor practices had gone viral.
The post had racked up thousands of shares, painting a target on Julian's back as the heir to the empire. I hadn't meant it to be personal—not at first—but Julian had taken it that way, and now every encounter felt like a chess match.
"Obsessed?" I snorted, setting my flute on a passing waiter's tray. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't like liars." The words hung between us, sharp and heavy. The gala buzzed on—students in glittering dresses and crisp suits mingling, professors schmoozing with donors, the clink of glasses and laughter filling the air—but for me, the world narrowed to Julian's face. Those blue eyes darkened, just for a second, before the smirk returned.
"Careful," Julian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "You keep throwing around words like that, people might think you're starting a war." "Maybe I am," I shot back, my heart kicking up a notch. I didn't back down, though. Not from Julian Voss, who walked through life like he owned it. Not when the truth was at stake.
The ballroom was a sea of wealth and ambition, Azure Bay University's annual gala a showcase of its elite status. The city's skyline sparkled through floor-to-ceiling windows, neon lights bleeding into the night like a watercolor painting. I felt out of place in my borrowed blazer, the sleeves a touch too long, the fabric stiff against my lean frame. I wasn't here to impress. I was here to network, to snag an internship with the city's top newspaper, the Azure Herald. But Julian's presence was a distraction I hadn't counted on.
Julian tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle to solve. "You really think you can take me down with that little blog of yours? Cute." My fists clenched at my sides. "It's not about taking you down. It's about holding people accountable. Something your family seems allergic to."
A flicker of something—anger, maybe, or something deeper—crossed Julian's face, but it was gone before I could pin it down. "You don't know anything about my family," Julian said, his voice low, almost a growl. "Or me."
"Then enlighten me," I challenged, stepping closer despite myself. We were inches apart now, the heat of our words crackling like static. The crowd seemed to fade, the music a distant hum. My pulse raced, and I hated how Julian's gaze made my skin prickle—not just with anger, but with something else he refused to acknowledge.
Before Julian could respond, a voice cut through the tension. "Elliot! There you are!" Maya, my best friend and roommate, appeared at my side, her auburn curls bouncing as she grabbed my arm. Her emerald dress shimmered under the chandeliers, and her brown eyes flicked between me and Julian with a mix of curiosity and concern. "You're not starting a fight at the gala, are you?"
I forced a smile, though my eyes stayed locked on Julian. "Not a fight. Just a conversation."Julian raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning like armor. "A conversation, huh? We'll have to continue this another time, Hayes." He turned, melting into the crowd with that infuriating grace, leaving my blood boiling.
Maya tugged me toward a quieter corner near the dessert table, her voice dropping to a whisper. "What the hell was that? You looked like you were about to punch Julian Voss in his face." I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. "He started it. Showing up here like he owns the place, acting like my blog didn't just call out his family for exploiting workers."
Maya rolled her eyes, grabbing a chocolate tart from the table. "Okay, but maybe don't pick a fight with the heir to Voss Tech at a gala crawling with professors and doners?"
She was right. The Azure Herald internship was my ticket to a real journalism career, a chance to prove I was more than a kid from a rundown neighborhood with a scholarship. But Julian made it so damn hard to stay focused.
Maya sighed, popping the tart into her mouth. "Just… be careful, okay? Julian's not just some rich kid. He's got connections, and he's not afraid to use them." I nodded, but my eyes drifted to where Julian stood across the room, laughing with a group of students. The way the light caught his earring, the way his smile lit up the space—it was infuriating how someone so infuriating could look so… magnetic. I shook my head, shoving the thought away.
I wasn't here to admire Julian Voss. I was here to expose him.The gala dragged on, a blur of small talk and fake smiles. I worked the room, shaking hands with professors and pitching myself to a Herald editor who seemed mildly impressed by my blog. But my mind kept circling back to Julian. The way his voice had dropped, low and intense, when he'd said, You don't know anything about me. There was something raw there, something I hadn't expected. It gnawed at me, like a loose thread I couldn't stop pulling.
By the time the gala wound down, the crowd thinning and the jazz band packing up, My nerves were frayed. I stepped out onto the balcony for air, the cool night breeze a relief after the stuffy ballroom. Azure Bay's skyline stretched before me, a jagged silhouette of glass and steel against the inky sky. The distant crash of waves against the pier carried on the wind, mingling with the faint pulse of neon from the city's nightlife district.
I leaned against the railing, my breath visible in the chilly air, and tried to shake off the encounter with Julian. It shouldn't have gotten under my skin. I'd dealt with plenty of rich kids at Azure Bay University, all swagger and entitlement, but Julian was different. He didn't just deflect my accusations—he pushed back, like he was daring me to keep digging. And that smirk. God, that smirk.
"Nice view, isn't it?" Julian's voice startled me, and I spun around to find him leaning against the balcony doorway, hands in his pockets. The tuxedo jacket was gone, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a sliver of collarbone that caught the moonlight. I hated how my eyes lingered.
"What do you want, Voss?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. Julian shrugged, stepping closer, his shoes clicking softly on the stone floor. "Just needed some air. Didn't expect to find you brooding out here."
"I'm not brooding," I snapped, turning back to the skyline. "And I don't need company." Julian didn't leave. Instead, he joined me at the railing, his elbow brushing against mine for a fleeting second. The contact sent a jolt through me, and I stepped to the side, putting space between us. Julian noticed, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh."You really hate me, don't you?" Julian said, his tone lighter now, almost curious. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the railing, his profile sharp against the city lights. "All because of that blog post?"
My fingers tightened on the cold metal. "It's not just the blog post. It's what it stands for. Your family's company screws over workers, and you just… stand there, smiling, like it's all fine."Julian was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The wind ruffled his hair, and for the first time, I noticed the faint lines of tension around his eyes. "You think I don't know what my family's done?" Julian said finally, his voice softer, almost too soft for the Julian Voss I knew. "You think I'm just some spoiled kid who doesn't care?"
I blinked, caught off guard. "Then why don't you do something about it?" Julian laughed, a low, bitter sound. "It's not that simple, Hayes. But you wouldn't get that, would you? You've got everything figured out, black and white, hero and villain." I bristled, but before I could fire back, Julian turned to face him, his blue eyes intense in the moonlight. "You don't know me, Elliot. You think you do, but you don't."
The use of my first name hit like a punch. I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. Julian was close now, too close, his breath visible in the cool air. For a moment, neither of us moved, the space between us charged with something I couldn't name. My heart pounded, and I hated how it wasn't just anger making my pulse race.Then Julian stepped back, his smirk returning like a shield. "See you around, Hayes," he said, turning and disappearing back into the ballroom. I stood there, the breeze cooling my flushed cheeks, my mind a tangle of frustration and confusion. Julian Voss was trouble, and I wasn't about to let him get the last word. Not tonight, not ever.
The next morning, I woke to the smell of burnt toast and Maya's off-key humming in our cramped apartment. Sunlight streamed through the window, glinting off the mismatched mugs on their kitchen counter. The gala felt like a fever dream, but Julian's words—You don't know me—echoed in my head, refusing to let go.
"Rough night?" Maya asked, sliding a plate of slightly charred toast across the counter. Her auburn curls were tied up in a messy bun, and she was still in her pajamas, a stark contrast to her glamorous gala look.
I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "You could say that." She raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. "Spill. What happened with you and Mr. Perfect after I left you two glaring at each other?"
"Nothing happened," I said too quickly, grabbing a piece of toast. "Just Voss being his usual infuriating self." Maya's eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh. Sure. You know, for someone who claims to hate him, you spend a lot of time talking about him." I choked on my toast, coughing. "I do not."
She grinned, clearly enjoying this. "Whatever you say. Just don't let him distract you from the Herald internship. You killed it with that editor last night. She was totally impressed." I nodded, trying to focus. The internship was my goal, my way out of the cycle of scraping by that my family had been stuck in for generations.
My mom worked double shifts at a diner; my dad had walked out when he was ten. I had clawed my way into Azure Bay University on a scholarship, and I wasn't about to let someone like Julian derail me. But as I headed to campus, the memory of Julian on the balcony—his voice soft, his eyes unguarded—kept creeping back. It didn't make sense. Julian was the enemy, the face of everything I despised. So why did that moment feel like it had shifted something, however small?
The university was a hive of activity, students spilling across the quad with coffee cups and backpacks. Azure Bay's campus was a mix of old brick buildings and sleek modern halls, the ocean breeze carrying a hint of salt even this far inland.
My first class was a journalism seminar, and I was halfway through the lecture hall doors when I stopped dead. Julian was there, sitting in the front row, his head bent over a notebook. Since when did Julian Voss take journalism classes? He was a business major, destined to inherit his father's empire.
My stomach twisted, a mix of suspicion and unease.The professor, Dr. Nguyen, clapped her hands to start the seminar. "Good morning, everyone! Exciting news—we've got a new group project starting today, a collaboration between the journalism and business departments. You'll be paired with a partner to produce a multimedia report on a local issue. I've already assigned teams."
My gut sank. I had a bad feeling about this. When Dr. Nguyen read out the pairs, my worst fears were confirmed. "Elliot Hayes and Julian Voss." A murmur rippled through the room. Julian turned, his eyes meeting mine across the lecture hall, that damn smirk back in place. my fists clenched under the desk. Of all the people in this class, it had to be him... After the lecture, Julian sauntered over, all casual confidence. "Looks like we're stuck together, Hayes. Try not to make this harder than it needs to be." I stood, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.
"Me? You're the one who's going to turn this into a circus."Julian's laugh was low, almost genuine. "You're so predictable. This might actually be fun." I glared, but my heart skipped a beat. Fun? No. This was going to be torture. I stormed out of the lecture hall, the weight of Julian's gaze following me like a shadow.
The rest of the week was a blur of classes, blog posts, and avoiding Julian. But the group project loomed like a storm cloud. They were supposed to meet to choose a topic, and I was dreading it. I didn't trust myself to stay calm around Julian, not when every conversation felt like a tightrope walk between anger and something else I refused to name.
Friday evening, we agreed to meet at a coffee shop near campus, a trendy spot called The Brew with exposed brick walls and fairy lights strung across the ceiling. The place smelled of roasted coffee and cinnamon, the hum of conversation blending with indie music. I arrived early, claiming a corner table with my laptop and a black coffee, my journal open to jot down ideas. Julian was late, of course. When he finally strolled in, he looked infuriatingly good—jeans, a fitted sweater, that earring glinting under the lights. He carried a camera bag, which threw me off. Since when did Julian care about photography?
"Nice to see you're punctual," I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. Julian slid into the chair across from me, unfazed. "Got held up. You miss me?" "In your dreams," I muttered, opening my laptop.
"Let's just pick a topic and get this over with." Julian leaned back, crossing his arms. "What's the rush? Scared you'll actually enjoy working with me?" my eyes narrowed. "You're delusional."
But as we started brainstorming, I couldn't help noticing the way Julian's fingers drummed on the table, restless and precise, or the way he tilted his head when he was thinking. It was distracting, and I hated it. We argued over topics—I wanted to investigate labor conditions at a local factory; Julian pushed for something "less depressing," like urban development.
The tension simmered, our voices sharp but never quite crossing into a full-blown fight. Finally, Julian leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Look, I get it. You think I'm the bad guy. But maybe, just maybe, you're not the only one who cares about doing the right thing."
I blinked, caught off guard again. "Then prove it," I said, my voice quieter now. "Help me make this project matter." Julian held my gaze, something unspoken passing between us. "Deal," he said finally, and for the first time, his smirk was gone, replaced by something almost… sincere. I looked away, my heart thudding. This was going to be a long project.