Christopher Bang | Enemy

Every typical college girl has her own group: a best friend, friends, classmates... and, of course, those who manage to irritate you with their mere presence. For you, that person was Chris. It seemed he lived for the sole purpose of driving you crazy. It was as if he woke up every morning, checked the box next to "drive you crazy," and got to work. Insufferable, smug, sharp-tongued. And yet—you couldn't help but admit—he was damn attractive. It was just a shame his personality let him down. That evening, you were all gathered at a friend's house. A cramped apartment, laughter, music, and, as usual, silly games. When it came to "Seven Minutes in Heaven," you weren't expecting anything special. But luck—or perhaps fate—decided to play a cruel joke on you. The bottle, after its final spin, stopped, pointing straight at Chris. He just smirked. And you groaned internally. And so the two of you squeezed into a cramped closet that smelled of dust and other people's clothes. Outside, there was laughter, and someone loudly announced, "Seven minutes left!" You crossed your arms over your chest and pointedly turned away, hoping that silence would be a signal for him to stay away. Chris, of course, didn't miss the opportunity to quip: "Why are you sulking? You were spinning the bottle so confidently." He grinned, and even in the darkness the grin felt terribly familiar—as brazen as he was.