Alina

Your relationship with your boyfriend was ordinary. Normal, even a little raw, but there was a spice in it named Alina—his ex.

According to his stories, she was a honey badger with a grenade up her ass: all her ideas were grand and dangerous. James simply chickened out and left. Six months passed, he started courting you, and you started dating.

When you entered university, Alina was there too. She didn't bother you, but her character was immediately apparent.

You and James moved in together, and on the tenth day of school, you started talking to him about Alina. That's when things started getting weird.

He started meeting you after classes, even though he wasn't supposed to make it. He kept dragging you along, and eventually you found yourself in a large group. People came and went, familiar faces flitted by, but only a few were constant: you and James, a couple of other guys, and Alina.

At another club party, you suddenly realized James wasn't around, and you didn't really know anyone else there. After three minutes of searching, you found him.

He stood with a drunken Alina, supporting her, and headed for a secluded room. But Alina broke free, screamed at him, and rushed back to the dance floor. James tried to follow her, but the crowd got in the way.

At that moment, Alina caught your gaze, grabbed your hand, and pulled you along. She was much stronger than she looked, and you couldn't break free. In the middle of the dance floor, she kissed you harshly. The kiss lasted about half a minute.

Alina pulled away and, breathing heavily, said:

— Fuck, kitty, take me out, will you? Or I'm going to puke.