Chapter 7: Chasing Ghosts
8
Lucas was in a foul mood. His playboy friends lined up weekend parties, but Lucas wasn’t interested. He just kept drinking.
He tore through whiskey bottles and cans of cheap beer—the kind that tasted like regret. His friends joked, tried to drag him out, but Lucas barely looked up from his phone.
After dumping that wooden girl, Lucas tried dating other pretty girls. But something about their makeup, their fawning eyes—he’d think of Natalie’s clean, pale face, as tender as a peeled egg, her eyes in bed full of stars and adoration.
He tried to forget her, taking blondes to overpriced restaurants, letting them flirt. But it never worked. Natalie’s absence itched under his skin.
His phone stayed silent. He’d only blocked her on Instagram, not her number. But a week passed—Natalie never called.
Every night, he stared at his lock screen, waiting for a message that never came. For the first time, Lucas felt ignored.
His face grew darker. He’d warned her last time to remember her place, but now it seemed she’d learned too well.
His friends rolled their eyes, saying to move on. But Lucas couldn’t. Natalie had gotten under his skin.
Almost midnight. Phones buzzed non-stop in the club’s private room. Most buddies had girlfriends blowing up their phones. Lucas just sat in the corner, frowning at his untouched drink.
He opened his chat with Natalie, scrolling through old messages, face growing stormy.
He’d invited her to eat, watch movies, hang with friends, take weekend trips. She’d refused all of it—except for coming to his apartment, which she never turned down and always replied to instantly.
It was like she only existed behind closed doors. Lucas realized maybe he’d never really known her.
He ground his teeth. He remembered her, overwhelmed with desire, sweetly calling his name, saying she loved him, wanted him forever. But outside, she was a mouse playing hide and seek. When she saw him in public, she looked desperate to disappear.
He hated how much it stung. Nobody had ever treated him like that—not the star athlete, not the rich kid. It made him want her even more.
Lucas suddenly realized maybe he was the one being played.
The thought hit hard, leaving him breathless. For once, Lucas Grant didn’t know what to do.
He stormed out, dialed her number. But all he got was: “Sorry, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable...”
He stared at the screen, that message echoing. It felt final—a door slammed shut.
Lucas laughed, bitter. “Well done, Natalie.”
He smashed his phone onto the sticky bar floor, then stalked toward the elevator.
He knew exactly where her shabby apartment was. Wasn’t she most afraid of her mom knowing? Tonight, he was going to her place. He wouldn’t leave until she gave him the answers he wanted.