It's Friday night, and I don't feel like going to a party. But Landon, my football teammate, has a birthday celebration. He's throwing a party at his house.

I don't feel like doing anything. I don't even feel like living. My heart has died after Luna broke things off with me. We're not even a thing, but it hurts like hell.

I arrive in front of Landon's house and ring the bell. I've already told myself that I don't feel like partying, so what the fuck am I doing here?

It's better than letting myself experience a slow and painful death every time I think about Luna. Her expression when she told me to stay away from her still haunts me all the time -- I need to get my mind off her.

Landon opens the door, and we give each other a quick man hug. "Thanks for coming, man." He grins. "The others are already inside."

I nod, and he gives me a look of sympathy, patting my shoulder.

Right. The whole school thinks that I'm the poor guy who was ditched by Luna Klein. In their eyes, I'm the victim, and she's the villain.

Fuck with that. They don't even know Luna.

No one in this fucking school puts an effort to know her better.

When I stride into the house, the party has started. The lights are dimmed, and deep thumping music echoes in my ears. I watch as people dance, drink, and chat with each other -- on the dance floor, on the couch, near the stairs, everywhere.

None of us has reached our legal age to drink, but that's the point of this party.

That's actually the reason why I'm here. I feel like alcohol is the only solution to ease my pain now, and that's fucked up. Mom and Dad would be pissed if they could read my mind.

This three-story house is huge -- it's one of the properties owned by Landon's father, who is a successful businessman. I pass the living room, where most of the people are dancing, and step into another area that looks like a game room, in which most of my football teammates are chilling.

This room is spacious, equipped with a billiard table. Bottles of beers sit at the counter and coffee table.

Ryan, our wide receiver, grabs one bottle and hands it to me. "Been waiting for you, Max."

I smirk, take the beer from him, and flop myself on the couch. The cold substance feels good in my throat, and I lean back on the couch, sighing.

"Did you watch the game last night?" Justin, our defensive tackle, asks me. He sits beside me and starts blabbering about the football game that aired yesterday, but I can't focus on anything he says.

My mind is filled with Luna. I check my phone once in a while, hoping to find her returning my call or replying to my texts, but there's none.

Her words still ring in my ears.

"I was only using you to be at the top again."

"I played with your feelings too much."

I can't help but think that she wouldn't say all of those things. Still, my heart feels like being stabbed continuously, because I did hear those words from her.

It was real.

This is the reality. Luna has left me.

One bottle. Two bottles. Three bottles of beer are empty. I've consumed some other drinks too, mixed by God knows who -- I don't really care. I don't know what's happening around me anymore. All the voices around me seem so far away.

I can only hear Luna's voice, over and over again, no matter how hard I want to get it out of my head.

"Leave me alone."

"Stay away from me."

The way she looked at me with piercing eyes and angry tears haunts me again, and darkness envelops me. I can't breathe. I can't stand seeing that expression again.

Luna hates me. She's sick of me.

"Max?" a soft voice snaps me out of my trance, and I turn my head, only to find a blonde-haired girl wearing a halter top sitting next to me. She touches my chest, leaning closer to me. "Are you listening? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

My mouth hangs open as I stare at her. What the hell? Where's Justin? Why is she suddenly here?

I squint at the wall across the room, my head spinning. I'm drunk. Well, partially drunk. How long has time passed?

The girl gazes at me dreamily, her hand still roaming my chest, and it starts to get under my shirt.

Okay. That's enough.

I don't even know who the hell she is, probably from the other class.

I groan and stand up from the couch, causing the girl to look up at me with a confused look. The loud music still echoes in my ears, and it's annoying. I need to walk out of this room and get some fresh air.

Even though my body struggles to keep my balance, I trudge out of the room, wiping my face. I've drunk too much -- I need to have one of the guys send me home.

Mom and Dad will scold me, for sure. Fuck. Maybe I'll spend the night here. I'll talk to Landon later.

I'm not interested in mingling with the people in the living room, so I walk the other way and find the kitchen. My eyes dart on the fridge.

Why the hell am I opening the fridge?

I squint at the items inside it. My eyes drop to another bottle of beer. Perfect.

I'm ruined, and I don't give a fuck. My heart bleeds so fucking bad that I definitely need another beer. I'm fucked up, I know.

I scoff. That's too many fucks.

Goddammit, Luna, you're killing me. I lean my back against the counter and gulp down the beer.

"Max," a voice calls, and I turn my head toward the source. There, stepping into this kitchen is a girl with shoulder-length brown hair.

The shock hitting me is too powerful that I drop the bottle in my hand, making it shatter into pieces on the floor.

"Luna?" My eyes widen in disbelief, and I have to grip the edge of the counter to compose myself.

The girl approaches me, and gradually, I can see her face better.

I freeze. "Rory?" What comes out of my mouth is barely a whisper.

Rory smiles, standing right in front of me. She has cut her hair that once reached her waist -- it only reaches her shoulders now, just like Luna's hair.

I scan her outfit, noticing that she's dressed like Luna. My eyes fall on the Chuck Taylor she's wearing. She's also wearing simple clothes -- denim shorts and an oversized sweater.

Luna once wore a sweater the exact same color.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, Rory wraps her arms around me.

"What the fuck--"

"She's not worth it, Max," Rory says, resting her head and hugging me tightly. "She played with your feelings, just like she played with Tyler's. She always wants to be in the spotlight. All that fame from her parents is never enough for her."

I should be disgusted by everything that leaves Rory's mouth, but I can't help but be reminded again of what Luna has said to me, and it breaks my heart for the thousandth time.

"Tyler really liked her too, just like what you feel for her now, Max," Rory speaks in such a gentle voice. "I knew it, because he told me about his feelings for her. He asked me about how he should approach her, since I was her best friend." She sniffles. "He lied about the bet to you because he was so angry with you. Luna really broke his heart."

I'm speechless. What the hell did I just hear?

"She broke your heart too, didn't she?" Rory whispers. "You mean nothing to her, Max. You're just a pawn to her. Once you crossed the line, she ditched you, just like she ditched Tyler."

My head spins even more. Each of Rory's words feels like a bullet to my heart.

Have I crossed the line? Is that why Luna left me?

I've fallen for her. I've crossed the line.

"Now that I watch you going through the same pain, I can't stand it." Rory tightens her hold on me, her voice shaking. "I don't want to see you in pain anymore, Max. Please, let me do something about it."

My body still freezes, and I wonder if the lack of my brain's function is due to the alcohol, or the fact that my heart is already dead.

"Luna doesn't need you anymore, Max," Rory keeps going, adding salt to my wounds. "Your presence will only enrage her. She wants nothing to do with you. If you really care about her, you'll stay away from her."

I can't figure out whether my vision starts to become blurry because I'm drunk or because of the tears that have suddenly come to my eyes.

I miss Luna. I fucking miss her. If only she could say that none of these are true.

"I like you, Max." Rory sniffs again -- I wonder if she's really crying. "I like you so much."

Goddammit. If only these words came from Luna.

Fuck this. Fuck this alcohol messing with my mind.

"I can be your Luna if you want me to," Rory says. "Let me ease your pain, Max. Let me make it all go away. Think of me as you think of her."

And before I know it, Rory's lips crash into mine. She kisses me fiercely, cupping my cheeks. She kisses me like she can't get enough of me, her body molding to mine as she grinds her hips against me.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Rory circles her arms around my neck, bouncing her body up as her legs wrap around my thighs.

Luna. Luna. Luna.

She's all I can think, I'm pretty sure that her name comes out of my lips while Rory is kissing me.

Despite all the things Rory said about being my Luna, she's not her. This is nothing like her lips, her warmth, and her scent. This is nothing like Luna.

My body becomes alert, and I abruptly push Rory, causing her back to smack the kitchen island. I don't even feel sorry for that.

Fuck you, Rory.

"Get the fuck out of my sight," I hiss venomously, and Rory pales. Even though my head still spins, I sober up due to this adrenaline rush. "You're not Luna. You will never ever be her."

Rory's lips tremble as she stares at me with hatred. The sultry look in her eyes is replaced by a death glare. Her body is shaking with rage when she grits her teeth.

And with that, I leave her.

I've lost count of how many times I've prayed for this Monday morning to be good. A soft sigh leaves my lips as I enter my classroom.

My gaze darts on Max's desk, which is still empty. He might have not finished his football practice. Sitting right in front of him every day makes my heart even heavier, and I wonder if I should change my seat.

While I'm slowly walking toward my desk, I halt, noticing how all the eyes are on me. I'm used to having their attention -- bad kind of attention -- but something about this one makes the hair on the back of my neck stand.

There's no single person in this classroom who isn't looking at me. Frantic whispers fill the air.

A girl sitting in the first row scoffs at me. "Innocent face can indeed fool a lot of people. Who would have thought that Luna Klein would be such disdain to this school? The principal wouldn't take this lightly."

I'm stunned. What is she talking about?

A disdain? The principal?

While my heart rate is increasing, I approach the girl. She scoffs again, throwing her phone onto her desk so that I can look at what the screen shows.

My eyes widen in shock, and my heart stops. I feel sick in my stomach, and everything around me feels like crumbling.

It's a photo of me at the drug party in Paris, smoking crack cocaine.

The voices inside the classroom become louder. People are talking about me, and the reality comes crashing down on me.

Rory has spread the pictures.