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Daisy-Belle's perspective:

The music blares loudly, and the girls are dancing to its rhythm. The ambiance in the nightclub is a blend of joy, freedom, enthusiasm, and a certain kind of sexual tension.

However, I find no happiness among the crowd. I wish to drown my sorrows in alcohol, and I can see my best friend, Pam, watching me with pity.

"I hate him, Pam. I really do," I say as I hastily consume the last drops of my drink.

"Babe, you need to let it go. Let's enjoy this night," she advises, placing her hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me, but I remain inconsolable.

Tears are now streaming down my face, and I can tell Pam is growing weary of repeating that everything will be okay.

She wanted to have a good time at the party, but having me around is ruining the atmosphere for her. She probably regrets bringing me here. I'm aware she suggested the party as a way to cheer me up, but I'm feeling miserable.

"I'll deal with him when I see him next," I announce and let out a burp while wiping my tears with the back of my hand.

"I won't bear his children any longer...," I start but belch once again.

"I told you to forget about him already, didn't I?" I sense her frustration.

I'm taken aback by her tone. I simply want to talk about Cameron all night so that maybe by tomorrow, I can begin to forget about him. Why can't she understand that?

"Are you yelling at me, Pam?" I point my finger at her chest, questioning her. Pam shakes her head and pulls me close to her.

"I just want you to hear me over the loud music," she whispers in my ear, trying to explain, and she rocks my body gently as if I were a baby. She uses her thumb to wipe away the remaining tears on my cheek.

"It's okay, sweetie. You know I love you, right?"

I nod and pull away from the embrace. I'm starting to feel the urge to use the restroom, so I stand up suddenly and wobble a bit. Pam rises to her feet to support me, ensuring I don't stumble.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to use the bathroom," I reply.

"Let me accompany you," Pam suggests.

"No," I burst into laughter. "I'll be back shortly." I step away from her grasp.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep," I reply before staggering off to the bathroom. I know that my friend will use this brief moment to her advantage, as I notice a guy throwing a wink in her direction.

My eyes are squinting due to the alcohol, making it difficult to locate the restroom. I realize just how drunk I am. I rub my eyes with the back of my right hand to try and see more clearly. I notice that the bathroom is a short distance away.

"Damn you, Cameron. I hate you," I mutter as I place my hands on the walls to guide myself along the narrow corridor leading to the restroom.

My legs wobble as I walk, and I struggle to maintain my balance. Frustration almost makes me fall. After regaining my posture, I finally reach the restroom door. I push it open with my left leg and step inside.

As I'm about to unzip my skirt, a guy exits the adjacent stall, zipping up his trousers. He appears surprised when he sees me.

"What are you doing here?" I inquire.

"What are you doing here?" He retorts.

I squint at him, perplexed by why he's in the women's restroom instead of the men's.

"You seem drunk," he mocks and walks over to the sink to wash his hands.

His comment stings, and I feel hurt.

"How dare you call me drunk?" I follow him, my voice rising in anger.

I had been drinking to forget my heartbreak after Cameron dumped me for a party girl. However, the alcohol wasn't helping me forget, and now I'm in a restroom with a man who's calling me a drunk.

The man seems taken aback by my outburst. He turns around and folds his arms.

"Aren't you drunk?"

"Of course not," I burp.

He lets out a light chuckle and returns to washing his hands, eager to leave. "You pervert," I insult him. "I know you're in here because you want to catch a glimpse of the panties of all the girls that come in here."

"Will you shut the hell up?" He snaps at me in irritation. His eyes suddenly turn red, and I quiver in fear, frightened by his authoritative tone. He glares at me for a moment before walking towards me.

As he approaches, I begin to step back, alarmed by the dangerous look on his face. I keep moving until my back meets the wall. I open my eyes wide, my heart pounding hard. I closely examine his face – his crystal blue eyes, the long pointed nose, the pink lips, the mustache, and his wavy black hair. He looks handsome and dangerous.

I'm drawn to men like him, which is why I fell hard for Cameron.

The man's breath brushes against my neck, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I shudder. He moves his mouth close to my ear and whispers, "I am a pervert, aren't I?"

I'm starting to sober up, and I shake my head nervously.

When he doesn't say anything else, I gulp and look up towards the door, noticing what's written above it. I gasp softly, realizing that I'm in the wrong washroom – I'm in the men's toilet.

"You just called me a pervert, didn't you?" I shake my head again as I glance back at him.

He straightens his tie and moves away with a satisfied grin on his face. "I can get any woman I want with my charms," he leans forward to whisper in my ear. "You're included. I know I'm handsome, so stop ogling me."

He gracefully walks towards the door, but before he can leave, I start to feel sober again and stop him.

"I wasn't staring at you. Besides, you're not handsome to me. My boyfriend is way more handsome. You don't need to be so confident about getting any girl you want, me included."

I roll my eyes, ignoring the pounding of my heart. I don't want him to think I find him attractive – he's too confident about his looks, and I hate admitting my feelings to men like that.

"Really?" He smirks.

"Yes."

He strolls back to where I'm standing.

"If your boyfriend is more handsome, you wouldn't be looking at me that way. Besides, what are you doing here all alone and wasted?" He folds his arms in front of me, clearly enjoying this.

"Who told you I'm here alone?" I chuckle, feigning happiness.

"If you were with your boyfriend, you wouldn't be this drunk," he asserts.

I fall into a hushed silence, unsure of how to respond. I suddenly find myself at a loss for words.

I step out of his line of sight and inquire, "Are you a psychologist?" He simply smiles.

Turning to enter the toilet to relieve myself, I can sense his eyes on me.

Zayden's Perspective:

I remain in my spot, eagerly awaiting her return. My mind races with fantasies, viewing this as an opportunity to fulfill my desire to have sex in a restroom. I'm also determined to prove to the girl that my charms can capture any woman.

I arrived at the party with the sole intention of finding a woman for the night after two intense weeks of nonstop work. When she exits the restroom and spots me standing there, she's about to speak when I interject.

"How about I kiss you to prove that you're not attracted to me?" I propose.

"What?" She exclaims, scoffing. "Do I appear like a cheap fling to you?"

"No," I reply. "You appear decent, but I simply want to be certain that you aren't attracted to me, as you claimed."

I can see through her lie. She finds me appealing. I'm aware that I'm the most handsome man she's ever encountered. However, she didn't want to reveal that.

As she's still processing my question, I place my hand on her waist, and moments later, our lips meet. She gasps as I kiss her gently. Her eyes widen in astonishment, and I can hear her heart racing. My eyes remain open as I wish to witness her reaction.

I sense her thoughts. She can't believe she's kissing another man just a day after breaking up with her first boyfriend. She feels as if she's betraying him, having never kissed anyone else but her first boyfriend. Kissing another man, namely me, feels different, and I discern all of this from her expressions.

I handle her with care. As I nip at her lower lip, she moans, closing her eyes to immerse herself in the moment, momentarily forgetting her efforts to conceal her emotions from me.

I close my eyes too and run my hand down her thigh, raising her left leg. She gasps once more. While continuing to kiss her, I maneuver her onto the sink and press her back against the large mirror. I discontinue the kiss after undressing us both.

"Should I go..."

She nods in anticipation, breathing heavily. As I enter her, I realize it's time to let go of the past and begin to satiate the sexual desires and fantasies I've long deprived myself of. My last sexual encounter was years ago.