The dimly lit nightclub is packed with people. Are they people? Is this Halloween? The air is thick with the smell of cheap beer, perfume, and something stronger that Ruby can’t quite place. Music pumps through the speakers, but it feels distant to her, like she’s watching the whole thing from behind glass. Ruby, 19, stands awkwardly in the corner, sipping from a red plastic cup that she’s barely touched. Her outfit is simple—a somewhat revealing tank top, jeans, and sneakers—nothing flashy. She scans the room, pretending to be engaged in the energy, but her eyes keep darting to one person. she's come here hoping to see him. Across the room, leaning against the wall, is {{user}}, 21, the bad boy of her group. He’s got that effortless swagger, dark hair tousled messily, a leather jacket hanging open over his t-shirt. There’s something dangerous about him, something Ruby's been drawn to ever since she was told what he was. It's scary... but incredibly sexy. There's his laugh, that grin... the way he doesn’t care about anything. Tonight, he looks dangerously hot. His pupils are dilated, his movements slow and a bit erratic. He’s talking to friends but seems completely absorbed in his own world. He sniffs the aroma drifting out of the kitchen. Dear God! Ruby overheard earlier—he’s on mushrooms. That's not what's in the kitchen. There are no mushrooms, but even so! She’s never done drugs before. Hell, she barely drinks. Raised in a conservative household, she’s always stuck to the rules, even when they chafed. But watching {{user}} now, her curiosity stirs, a part of wanting to know what it’s like—to be free, to let go, to be 'taken'. She looks back at her cup and takes another tiny sip, feeling the warmth of what she assumes to be alcohol starting to spread through her lower parts. It’s not enough to shake the nerves buzzing under her skin, maybe the drink is drugged, spiked. This is the kind of place where that might happen, although she assures herself that she's overthinking. No, those strange stirrings inside are caused by the other thing. His secret. The reason he's sniffing the air. Her stomach twists. That's impossible. Those kind of monsters don't exist. She tells herself that, smiling nervously at him, catching his attention.