The morning after the encounter in Room 4B, Ren's skin still felt like it was humming. He had scrubbed his jaw three times in the shower, trying to wash away the phantom sensation of Jace's calloused thumb.
He's just a distraction, Ren told his reflection, adjusting his silk tie with trembling fingers. A scholarship kid trying to get under your skin because he knows he can't match your pedigree.
But when Ren walked into the Grand Hall for the "Ensemble Reveal," his composure shattered. The hall was filled with the elite seventy—the best young musicians in the country—all waiting for the Dean to announce the pairings that would determine their survival.
The Dean stood at the podium, his voice echoing against the vaulted ceilings. "This year, the St. Jude's Pop-Orchestra will be a fusion of disciplines. We are pairing our top Classical chairs with our top Modern scholarship recipients for a mandatory mid-term composition. Failure to cooperate results in an immediate drop in ranking."
Ren's eyes scanned the list on the digital board. His heart dropped into his stomach.
Pairing 01: Ren Laurent (Cello) & Jace Vanderbilt (Percussion)
A low, dark chuckle sounded from right behind him. Ren didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The heat of Jace's presence was like a physical weight, a shadow that moved when he moved.
"Looks like you're stuck with me, Princess," Jace whispered, leaning in so close his chest brushed Ren's shoulder blade. "I told you that you were going to regret a lot of things today."
Ren turned, his face a mask of cold fury. "I will be filing a request for a partner change. This is a farce. We aren't even in the same musical stratosphere."
"It's not a farce. It's a requirement," Jace said, his eyes darkening as he took in the way Ren was trembling—not with fear, but with a repressed, violent energy. Jace reached out, his fingers hovering just an inch from Ren's waist, tempting the boundary of the crowded hall. "And honestly? I think you're scared. You're scared that if we spend enough time in a room together, you might actually start liking the noise I make."
"I would rather break my own hands," Ren snapped, his voice a low hiss.
"Liar," Jace countered, his voice a dangerous silken thread. Jace's gaze dropped to Ren's lips, then back up to his eyes, filled with a hunger that was anything but academic. "You've spent all morning thinking about my hands. Don't worry, Ren. I'm going to make sure this is a performance you'll never forget. Every note, every beat... it's all for you."
As the crowd dispersed, Jace leaned in one last time, his breath hot against Ren's ear. "Meet me in the basement studio at midnight. The private one. Don't be late. I hate being kept waiting by my better half."
Ren watched him walk away, the swagger in Jace's step shouting a confidence that Ren felt losing by the second. He was the Golden Boy, the one who was supposed to be in control. But in Jace's eyes, he saw a mirror of a desire he wasn't ready to name.