"Bro, you're coming tonight or what?"
Arman smirked at his reflection in the mirror, phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. "Is that even a question?"
"Biggest party this month. DJ Mike. Half the models in Bangkok are here already."
Arman ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back effortlessly. "Say less. Give me twenty."
He ended the call before his friend could reply.
Nights like this were his specialty.
He pulled on a fitted black shirt that clung just right across his shoulders, left two buttons open, enough to suggest, never to try too hard. Dark jeans. Boots. A quick spray of cologne — expensive, intoxicating. The kind that lingered.
He flashed himself one last look.
Dangerous.Untouchable.
Perfect.
The roar of his motorbike split the quiet night as he sped out of the gated driveway of his family's mansion. The wind slapped against his face as he accelerated, engine growling beneath him like something alive. Speed always cleared his head.
The city glittered ahead.
And so did trouble.
The club pulsed with bass the moment he stepped inside.
Lights flashed in violent purples and electric blues. The air smelled like perfume, sweat, and expensive liquor. Bodies moved like one living organism under the rhythm of the music.
"Arman!" someone shouted.
Hands clapped his back. Drinks were shoved into his grip before he could ask. Girls turned. They always did.
He thrived here.
Within minutes, he was laughing too loudly, glass of whiskey in hand, a girl with red lipstick pressed against his side. Another one tugged at his sleeve, whispering something in his ear that made him grin.
He didn't remember names.
He never needed to.
He danced like he owned the night — confident, reckless, untamed. Hands on waists. Lips brushing necks. A kiss here. A promise there. Nothing real. Nothing that lasted past sunrise.
Alcohol burned pleasantly down his throat. Music thundered in his chest.
This was life.
Fast. Loud. Meaningless.
And he liked it that way.
By 2:30 a.m., the party was peaking, but Arman was already bored.
He checked his phone, ignoring three unread messages from three different girls in the same room.
"Leaving already?" his friend shouted over the music.
"Yeah. Early day tomorrow," Arman lied easily.
They both laughed.
He said his goodbyes, tossed on his jacket, and stepped back into the cool night air. The sudden quiet felt almost surreal after the chaos inside.
He swung his leg over his bike and started the engine.
The city roads were emptier now. Streetlights stretched in long golden lines ahead of him as he sped through them, the wind sobering him slightly.
He liked riding alone.
No noise.No expectations.Just him and the road.
He accelerated, weaving through the empty lanes, the engine humming beneath him.
Then the traffic light ahead turned red.
He groaned under his breath and slowed to a stop.
The night was still.
Too still.
He exhaled and casually turned his head to the left.
And that's when he saw her.
She stood under the soft glow of the streetlamp, a few steps away on the sidewalk.
A girl in a simple, flowing cream dress that moved gently with the breeze. Her hair fell past her shoulders in dark waves, catching the light every time she shifted. One hand held her phone to her ear.
She was laughing softly at something on the call.
Not the loud, attention-seeking laugh he was used to.
This was different.
Light. Effortless.
Real.
She absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she listened, her head tilted slightly.
Arman forgot how to breathe.
She wasn't dressed provocatively. She wasn't trying.
And somehow… she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.
Not hot.
Not sexy.
Beautiful.
Like something untouched by the mess of his world.
As if sensing his stare, she looked up.
Their eyes met.
The world shrank.
The traffic noise faded. The distant hum of engines disappeared.
It was just him and her.
For one suspended second.
Her eyes widened slightly, not in fear, not in annoyance.
Curiosity.
And then...
She smiled.
Soft. Shy. Almost amused.
It hit him harder than any alcohol ever had.
Something inside his chest tightened violently.
His heartbeat pounded in his ears, louder than the club music had been.
He felt sober.
Completely, terrifyingly sober.
Who is she?
He had never seen her before. Not at any club. Not at any event. Not in his circles.
She didn't belong to his world.
And suddenly… he didn't want her to.
The traffic light above flickered from red to green.
He didn't move.
The car behind him honked aggressively.
"Shit," he muttered.
He glanced back at her.
She was still there, still on the phone, still smiling faintly.
Impulsively, he signaled right, planning to make a quick U-turn. Just to get closer. Just to say hi. Just to hear her voice.
For the first time in his life, he actually wanted to know a girl's name.
But before he could turn...
A black Uber pulled up in front of her.
His heart dropped.
No.
She ended her call, opened the back door, and slid inside gracefully.
He froze.
The car behind him honked again, louder.
The Uber door shut.
And just like that....
She was gone.
The car pulled away smoothly, disappearing down the opposite lane.
Arman stared after it, stunned, pulse still racing.
He hadn't even moved.
The light turned red again.
He had missed her.
A girl he didn't know.
A girl he had seen for less than a minute.
And somehow, it felt like losing something important.
He shook his head and forced himself to ride forward when the light changed again.
Ridiculous.
It was just a girl.
Just a random girl.
But as he rode home, the memory replayed again and again in his mind—
The way she twirled her hair.
The softness in her eyes.
That smile.
When he reached his mansion, the gates opened automatically. He parked, removed his helmet, and stood there longer than usual.
The house felt emptier tonight.
Colder.
He went to bed without checking his phone.
Without texting anyone.
Without wanting anyone.
He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling in the darkness.
And for the first time in years....
He wasn't thinking about the girls he kissed.
He was thinking about the girl he didn't.
Her smile followed him into sleep.
And he had no idea…
By morning, the world would never be the same again.