I pressed off my phone, hesitant to meet Orion's gaze.

He raised his hand and gestured towards me, as if suggesting I tuck my hair behind my ear.

But my mind was consumed by recent events, unconcerned with my appearance.

I casually brushed my hair back and accepted the whiskey handed to me by the bartender.

"Your black hair is lovely, but perhaps the gothic makeup isn't quite your style," Orion remarked, handing me a handkerchief. His words only reddened my face further. What were the odds that the captain of the swim team would strike up a conversation with me after my boyfriend and best friend betrayed me?

"Sorry, I must look a bit frightening," I awkwardly chuckled, taking his handkerchief to wipe away the eye makeup from my face, noticing a faint scent of perfume on it.

"Recently broken up with your boyfriend?" Orion's voice lowered, almost whispering softly in my ear.

My body trembled involuntarily, as if electrified. Orion leaned closer, and my heart raced faster.

His presence carried a scent of cedar and mint, a fragrance unfamiliar to me but evoking the feeling of standing on a cliffside in snow.

"That piece of shit man isn't worth my sorrow. I just wanted a drink," I gulped down half the glass of whiskey.

Observing my action, Orion complimented, "I like your style."

"Like a discarded whore?" Half-drunk on the potent liquor, I spoke boldly.

Orion remained unfazed, his expression serious. "No, I mean it. The real you I see is entirely captivating."

Betrayed by both my best friend and boyfriend, stumbling into a bar and encountering campus heartthrob Orion—what an absurd twist of fate.

I turned to meet Orion's gaze, palms open, and shrugged. "Mr. Playboy, is this how you usually win over those girls' hearts?"

Orion raised an eyebrow, seemingly choosing not to answer my question.

He pulled out bills from his pocket, more than enough to cover several drinks, and smoothly handed them to the bartender. "Please prepare a towel and an umbrella for the lady here, with the extra. Thank you."

He then slipped a business card into my hand and leaned in close to whisper in my ear, "If you're so intrigued by how I treat girls, why not come see for yourself? Here's my address and phone number; my door is always open to you." His voice was soft amidst the bar's bustling noise, yet it seduced like the song of a Siren.

I stood there, face flushed, staring as he turned and confidently walked into the rain with a large black umbrella. Raindrops splashed on his back, hinting at his muscular physique beneath the white shirt, a sight that sparked my imagination.

Nearby was a 24-hour convenience store, but bartenders rarely left their posts to run errands for customers. Orion must have been overly generous to prompt such swift service.

"Miss, here's your towel and umbrella. Wishing you a pleasant evening," the bartender's voice brought me back.

I didn't really need the towel and umbrella; it was all because of that piece of shit Evander! I took the towel and went to the restroom to freshen up. As I looked into the mirror, Orion's flattering words about my charm kept echoing in my mind.

Since childhood, I've been overlooked, my abilities not exceptional, and I've never received much attention at home. To be with Evander, I worked tirelessly, taking on extra jobs just to rent a small apartment off-campus. Orion's words did bring some comfort to me, I must admit.

Now, whenever I think of my apartment, the image of Daria and Evander entangled lingers in my mind, nauseating me.

Unsure where to go, I left the bar with a throbbing headache.

Where could I possibly go now? My apartment has been tainted by that couple. After much hesitation, I finally opened the note: Apartment XX, 12th floor, Number 1202.

Orion lives just above me.