Andy's POV:
Days slipped by like water through my fingers. Just like I expected, Amaya never looked my way again. Not even once.
Does sex really make people hate you? I asked myself every time I caught her laughing with her friends like nothing happened. Maybe I was never more than an idea to her—something to conquer. Just another body.
Michael stayed quiet. Not a word. I knew he was waiting—waiting for the moment James wouldn't be at my side. But James never left me behind. Not once.
Final exams came and went. Results were posted quicker than expected. I didn't bother joining the crowd to check mine in the hallway. Everyone knew I'd topped the class again. Rich. Handsome. Smart. It used to be my biggest flex. Now, I barely cared.
Then came prom night.
Everyone had someone on their arm. A girl in heels, makeup, and the promise of something romantic.
Not me.
I sat in a corner of the party hall, dressed to kill, yet feeling invisible, waiting for James—my fellow single warrior.
"Hi?" a voice broke through the music.
I turned to see Oliver standing there. Another pretty boy with ocean-blue eyes. Way too common in our school.
"Yeah… Oliver, right?"
"Yes," he smiled, nervously brushing his hair back. "Can I join you?"
Before I could respond, he sat down across from me.
"Okay…" I said, unsure.
"We never really talk," he said, leaning forward. "I thought maybe we could change that. School's almost over."
"Change it? I think we talk too much, honestly. Might need to tone it down," I said dryly.
He laughed like I was the funniest guy alive.
"You're funny," he said. Then, out of nowhere: "Are you single?"
I blinked. What?
"Er… yeah," I replied hesitantly.
"Okay, so the thing is…" He paused, searching for words. "I've liked you for a while now. I just didn't know how to tell you."
I stared at him.
Did he just say… "liked"?
My fingers clenched around my drink. I stood up fast, chair screeching behind me.
"You know what, Oliver? Don't try to 'approach' me again. Ever."
I turned and walked away, my blood boiling.
Do I look like I'm gay?
I stepped outside, leaning against my car. I needed air. People passed by, dressed to impress, laughing, drinking, living. I should've brought a date.
Then I heard it.
"This is Andy's car, right?" a girl's voice giggled from the other side.
"Yes, babe. Andy the cunt."
I froze.
That voice.
It was Amaya.
"He's just a mommy's boy. 'Mommy said I shouldn't fuck girls, I'm still a virgin,'" she said in a mocking voice, laughing.
"Amaya," the other girl sighed, "you left your boyfriend for another guy. That doesn't sound fair."
"Oh, please. A sin is a sin. I wanted to have fun with the hottest guy in school. But he turned out too innocent for me."
They laughed and walked past me—never even realizing I was standing right there, hearing it all.
It broke me.
And it made me burn.
Minutes later, James finally arrived, swaggering like he owned the world.
"James," I called before he got inside.
He turned and smiled. "Yo! Bloke. What're you doing out here?"
"Been waiting for you, man."
We dapped up, then headed inside together. The lights hit us immediately. Music was loud, people were dancing like their futures didn't start tomorrow.
I marched straight to the DJ booth, James right beside me. I took the mic and signaled for the music to stop.
"Hey everyone," I said, voice steady, "after today, some of us are leaving for college. Some are stepping into the real world. No more uniforms. No more bells. Just life."
Everyone went quiet.
"Some of you will make money. Some will crash. That's just facts. But before we all disappear into our futures, let's not forget the present. And for those who care…"
I paused, smirked.
"My birthday party is this Monday. High Garden Hotel. 8 p.m. till dawn. Rooms are free. Drinks? Handled. Come with your girls—or don't. Just show up ready to party, because the night won't end until I say so."
Cheers exploded. The DJ turned the music back on. But I wasn't done.
As I stepped away, I spotted Amaya standing by the bar, sipping her drink and pretending she didn't see me.
But this time—I didn't walk away.
I walked straight up to her.
She raised a brow like she owned the world.
"Amaya."
"Oh wow. You're speaking to me now?"
"Yeah," I said calmly, "I heard everything you said outside."
She flinched, just a little.
"Oh? Then good. Now you know how I really feel."
"You used me," I said quietly. "Lied to me. And when I didn't give you what you wanted, you made a joke out of me."
"You're just a boy who doesn't know what he wants," she replied coolly.
"No," I leaned in, voice low but sharp, "I do know. I want someone who sees me as a human being, not a trophy. Not a dare. Not a punchline."
I turned and walked away before she could say another word.
And for the first time—I felt free.
---
Amber's POV:
I pulled into the driveway, parking beside Andy's brand new car—the one I surprised him with this morning. His face lit up like a little boy, and I knew I did the right thing. He deserved it. Everything I had was for him.
I stepped out of my car, exhausted but smiling. Inside, I collapsed onto the couch, kicking off my heels. My body ached. I needed rest.
The front door creaked open slowly.
I didn't turn. "Andy, you home early?"
"My darling wife."
I froze.
That voice didn't belong to my son.
I turned—and there he was.
"Jason?" I whispered.
The past had walked through my door.
____
Andy's POV _Birthday Party Night
High Garden Hotel never looked this alive.
Lights danced across the marble floors, music pulsed through the grand ballroom, and bodies moved like freedom had just been invented. People came—more than I expected. The entire senior class, some juniors, even a few ex-students. The kind of crowd that made you feel like a star.
And tonight—I was the sun they orbited around.
I walked in wearing all black—satin shirt unbuttoned just enough, silver chain catching the light, dark pants hugging just right. James was beside me, clean in a crisp suit with a smirk like he already owned the night.
"Man, you pulled this off," James said, clinking his drink against mine.
"I had to," I said, scanning the crowd. "If they're gonna talk about me, they might as well do it from my penthouse."
The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and people were already wilding out in the pool area. But even with all the noise, I felt something heavier in the air. Eyes. Whispers. Judgments wrapped in smiles.
Then she walked in.
Amaya.
She wore red—of course she did. A statement. A threat. A warning. She didn't come to apologize. She came to remind me that she thought she won.
She locked eyes with me, held my gaze for a second too long, then turned to flirt with someone by the bar.
Typical.
"You want me to handle her?" James asked, already rolling up his sleeves.
"No," I replied. "Tonight's about me. Not her."
I stepped up to the stage by the DJ, grabbed the mic again. The crowd hushed like they knew something real was coming.
"Yo," I started, letting the mic settle in my palm. "First off—thank you. For showing up. For dressing hot. For bringing your chaos."
Laughter.
"Some of you came here expecting drama. Some of you came here hoping I'd slip. But I won't. Not tonight. Because tonight…" I paused, heart pounding, "...is about freedom."
They leaned in.
"I've spent years hiding things. From people. From myself. But I'm done hiding."
People looked confused. Curious.
I took a deep breath. "To the guy who called me a 'girl' in front of everyone—I forgive you. Because real men don't have to prove what's in their pants to prove what's in their heart."
Gasps. A few people froze mid-sip.
James locked eyes with me from the crowd—his face full of pride.
"I was born different. I spent my whole life thinking it made me weak. But it makes me rare. Stronger than most of you ever had to be. And if you can't handle that? That's your problem. Not mine."
Silence.
Then a clap.
Then another.
Until the whole room exploded.
I dropped the mic gently and walked off the stage. I didn't need their applause—but damn, it felt good to hear it.
Amaya stared at me—jaw tight, eyes unreadable. I walked past her like she didn't exist.
James met me near the hallway, pulling me into a hug without saying a word.
"I'm proud of you, man," he said, voice low. "You didn't just throw a party. You made history."
"I didn't do it for them," I said.
"I know," he smirked. "You did it for you."
We stepped out onto the rooftop, where the cool night wrapped around us. The city lights below blinked like stars trying to get in.
I looked up.
For the first time in forever—I felt like I belonged
**************
---
AMBER'S POV
"My darling wife…"
I froze.
That voice… no, it couldn't be. I turned slowly, praying to see anyone—anyone but him.
But there he was.
"Jason?" I whispered, like saying his name might summon my worst memories from the grave. My legs trembled beneath me. The man I buried in my past, the man I thought I'd never see again, was now standing in my living room—alive, real, and walking toward me like time had never passed.
My heartbeat raced. I stood up quickly, instinctively creating space. "Is this a dream?" My voice cracked.
"You are not dreaming, my dear wife," he said softly, his eyes locked onto mine like he could see every thought I tried to hide. His presence carried weight—years of secrets, pain, and unfinished stories.
"What... what are you do... doing here?" I stammered, backing away.
"I came to look for my wife," his voice dropped, "and my daughter."
No.
Those words felt like a dagger to my stomach.
"Stay away!" I said, trying to sound strong, but my fear betrayed me. My voice trembled, and my fingers clenched into fists. "Jason, please… don't do this. Not now. My son—he can't know…"
"Son?" he snapped, stepping closer. "Amber… where is my daughter?!"
His voice thundered through the room. I flinched. I could swear the neighbors would've heard. I didn't care. My past was blowing open the doors I had kept sealed for decades.
"How ungrateful can you be?" His eyes turned cold, cruel. "After everything I gave you, after I made you who you are—you repay me by destroying my child? You turned my daughter into—into this?"
Tears burst from my eyes. "Jason, please…"
"I picked you from the fucking gutter!" he yelled.
And then, his mind drifted—memories flooding his face.
---
[FLASHBACK – JASON'S POV]
"Who's that?" Jason squinted through the windshield as the car rolled slowly.
His driver leaned closer. "Looks like… a young woman, sir."
She lay sprawled on the ground, her clothes torn, face bloodied, body limp and broken under the streetlights. A ghost of who she once was.
"Is she dead?" Jason asked, frowning.
"I do not know, sir."
"Check her."
The driver parked and rushed over, kneeling beside her.
"She's breathing!" he called back.
Jason didn't hesitate. "Pick her up. We're taking her to the hospital."
And that's how he met Amber.
---
[FLASHBACK – WEDDING DAY]
"You look beautiful," Jason said, watching Amber in her glowing white gown. Her dark hair flowed perfectly over her shoulders, eyes sparkling with a joy she thought she'd never feel again.
Amber turned and smiled. "Thank you, my love."
"I've never seen an angel in heaven, but I'm sure you look more beautiful than any of them."
She laughed softly, a sweet nervous sound, as they stood beneath the archway.
"I can't wait to make you my wife," he whispered.
And he kissed her like he meant it.
---
BACK TO PRESENT
I looked at Jason now, the same eyes, but filled with something darker—betrayal, bitterness, and obsession.
"She's not your daughter anymore, Jason," I said quietly. "She's not a girl either. He's my son now. Andy is my son."
He flinched at the name.
"Andy…" he spat it out like poison.
"I did what I had to do to protect my child," I cried. "I raised him alone. You left me. You disappeared. Don't come back now and pretend like you care."
Jason's chest heaved with anger. "You lied to me my whole life. You stole my child from me."
"No," I whispered. "I saved him. From this world"
He stepped back, fists clenched. Silence filled the room, thick with years of pain.
"I'm not leaving without my child."
"You already did," I said coldly, tears falling. "Nineteen years ago."