"Come on, Fran. It'll be great, I promise you," Abby says with a cheeky smile, and that alone isn't trusting.

"I don't know," I mumble, looking down at the pill in the palm of her hand.

"You don't have to then, I'll just take them both," she says casually, and before she can make that reckless decision, I snatch one up and swallow it.

"What you do; I do, idiot."

That was the first time I took ecstasy. A night full of cheap thrills. Pleasurable, exciting, cheap thrills. Ecstasy isn't all fun and games. It's amazing for the first few hours, but then you come down from that high. You come back to reality and sometimes reality isn't pretty. You're overwhelmed with the feelings you were feeling before, the feelings you pushed away with the drug. But only now, it's heightened terribly.

Now, I awaken in a bed of my own sweat, haunted memories sinking over me. My body fills with anxiety, my hands shaking and my heart racing. Memories race around my mind that I forcibly block out every second of the day. I close my eyes, trying to push the memories back, thinking of anything but what I am remembered by every night.

20, 19, 18, 17... 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Taking deep, somewhat steady breaths as I count, trying to take control back of my breathing, I realize I can't stay in here. The walls are suffocating me, I need air, I need to run until I can't feel my legs anymore. My head is pounding from the hangover that's currently brewing, but I can't stay captured in these walls much longer. My thoughts are consuming me and I can't think straight. I check the time on my phone; it's five AM, I've only slept two hours.

My head feels like its caving in, I'm nauseated; I'm so fucking tired of this. I ask myself why a hundred times a day. What comes after is always different. But this morning I'm asking myself, why the fuck did I go out last night and choose ecstasy of all drugs?

My memories of last night are hazy. I remember dancing like I owned the world, like nothing mattered. It was just me and my happiness.

It was fake happiness, always will be.

Standing from my bed with shaky legs, I see to my right, Matt is snuggled up with that guy from the party. I hope they had a better night than I did.

Grabbing out a pair of black cycling shorts to stop my thighs from rubbing together and a hoodie that's Matt's, I quickly dress before rushing out of the room as I throw my hair up in a bun.

The dorm's eerily quiet, almost deafening as I put my shoes on. Once they're on, I shove my earbuds in, and leave, locking the door behind me, letting the sweet sound of Led Zeppelin fill my ears.

Running isn't a passion or a hobby of mine, it's simply a coping mechanism, one I've had for years. It helps clear my head. Only the last time I ran my problems were much simpler.

∞

My breathing is erratic, my lungs are burning as I push myself further and further, ignoring the salty tears that are falling from my eyes and landing on my chapped lips. I close my eyes, only making the matter worse.

Sirens. Blue lights. The feeling of blood trickling down my legs. The smell of male cologne on my skin. A night full of mistakes.

No music can help these memories disappear. They're too fresh. They're fresh wounds that haven't even begun the healing process.

I haven't felt this bad since... It happened. Why did I have to do this to myself? I'm the only one to blame for what happened that night, no one else. I was so fucking reckless.

My mind starts to panic and my eyes spring open as my hand comes to my chest, realising I really can't breathe now, but before I can stop, I'm suddenly crashing into someone, gasping loudly as we collide. I immediately tuck my legs up before bringing my hands to my face, hiding the state I'm currently in, trying to regulate my breathing.

This is such a mess.

"Do you not know how to run properly? Or see for that fucking matter?" he yells at me; even at my worst, men are still assholes to me.

"I-" I go to apologize, but I can't breathe. 20, 19, 18, "seventeen, sixteen... fuck," I close my eyes, letting out a shaky and uneven breath.

He crouches down to my level and he looks me in my eyes, "Focus on me, okay? You're having a panic attack, but don't worry because there's no one out here but us. Can you take a deep breath for me?"

"I can't, I can't breathe," I finally get out, feeling completely humiliated. A stranger I have never met before is helping me through a panic attack, I have hit a new low.

"What colour are my eyes?" he suddenly asks.

"Green," I whisper, seeing the emerald green through my blurred vision, and he nods, taking my hands in his. I look down seeing a visible tattoo poking through his jacket sleeve.

"Can you name five things you can see?"

"A rose," I say, gulping down a breath, "The sunrise, lots of trees, a bench, and... you."

"What can you smell?"

"Versace cologne," I answer immediately.

"Oh, so you know your scents," he muses and I let out a breathy chuckle. "What can you hear?"

"Your voice. It's warm yet very fucking intimidating." I'm unsure why I'm explaining his voice to him, he hears it all the time.

"What can you feel?" he asks and I focus on the frayed part of Matt's hoodie sleeve.

"The fabric of this hoodie," I whisper.

"Is it a special hoodie?"

"No, it's just my roommate's."

"Well, that's boring, I was ready to hear how special this hoodie was," he mutters and a small smile makes its way onto my face as I look up at him.

"Thank you," I say, wiping the tears from my face.

"You're welcome. Would you like a drink? I promise I haven't drank from it yet," he says, picking up the bottle of water from the floor, and I nod, taking the bottle with shaky hands. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, sorry you had to see that," I whisper.

Only now can I really take in the nice guy crouching before me. His eyes are a beautiful emerald green. I'm not sure if the tattoo that's poking out on his left wrist is a full sleeve, but from what I can see it looks like it leads somewhere. His face is lightly stubbled, with dark curly brown hair atop his head. He's wearing sweats but I can tell he's athletic. He's definitely handsome, but what's attracting me more is the warm smile he's wearing on his face, nothing like the asshole who yelled at me.

"Don't apologise. I should be the one to say sorry, I mean I did kinda yell at you first of all," he sits down in front of me and urges me to drink more water.

"I don't know what happened there but thank you for saving me," I say and he chuckles, moving the hair out of my face.

"Just call me your knight in shining armour," he muses.

"So, that would make me the damsel in distress, huh?" I raise my brow and he shrugs, before starting to laugh out, "You're mean."

"Yeah, I guess I am," he mumbles and I sigh, looking around at our surroundings properly. I didn't even notice I had run this far. I'm still on campus nonetheless, but I'm shockingly far from where I came. "So, damsel, what's your other name?"

"Francesca, but my friends either call me Fran or Frankie."

"I'll stick with Francesca, it suits you," he says and I smile at the little compliment, "My name's Ethan; third year, you?"

"Second," I answer. The casual conversation is surprisingly easy and it's taking my mind off of everything for the time being. Something temporary.

"Your major?"

"English Literature."

"So typical," he scoffs.

"You didn't let me finish," I point at him, "I was going to say that I want to pursue art so I'm thinking of changing a few things around because I don't have the passion for English like I used to."

"What kind of art do you prefer?"

"Abstract portraits... but just abstract art in general, I love pieces that wouldn't make sense to others but will mean everything to one person," I try to explain. "What about you? What is your major?"

"Sports studies."

"Do you enjoy it?"

Somehow ten more minutes pass us by as we sit on the ground of campus, the sun rising behind us as we talk about our majors, and what we like and dislike about them. A simple conversation; a distraction from my mind that was needed.

"So, uh, how can I repay you for helping me?"

"Nothing. Any normal person would have helped you," he answers.

"Thank you," I say with sincerity.

"You're most welcome," he takes a little bow, and I chuckle, closing my eyes.

"So, Ethan, why are you out this early?" I ask, taking a sip of the drink he gave me.

"Warming up for training," he answers, intriguing me. I wonder what sport he is training for, "How about you?"

"I just like to run," I lie, shrugging. He nods with raised eyebrows, not believing that for a second, "It's beautiful out at this time of day."

"No one can deny that," he whispers, looking over at the trees where the sun threatens to shine through. It's my favourite time of the day, whether I am just waking up or just going to sleep. I love seeing the sunrise. It's so effortlessly beautiful and calming.

"I need to go get my car," I tell him, yet don't move from my position on the cold ground.

"Where from?"

"From Zach's party last night."

"You went to that party?" he stands up, so I send him a funny look.

"Are you judging me?" I ask.

"If you ever want to really party, just find me."

"Considering I have never seen you before today, I don't think that's likely," I say, going to stand up and he holds out his hand for me to take.

"I don't know, I have a feeling we'll meet again," he seems hopeful.

"Well, Ethan, maybe one day. Thank you again for helping me. I really appreciate it," I say and he smiles, handing me the bottle of water.

"Keep it. And don't stress it. I'm always here to help a damsel," he muses, starting to walk off in the direction opposite to me.

"I'm never calling you my knight in shining armour!"

"Sure, you won't," he chuckles, looking back. We share a smile before going our separate ways.

That was... weird.

~~~~~

A/N

If this is a little short, I'm sorry. Usually, they won't be this short but I thought it was fitting for the chapter itself to keep it short and sweet.

I love Ethan. I love, love, love him. I'm so excited to write this book and explore these characters.

Does anyone have any guesses as to what happened? I obviously know, and so do my friends because they're my support network and I go to them for help. But I'm curious if anyone can guess.

I'm going to start doing questions in my Authors notes:

So, have you watched Bridgerton and did you fall in love with the Duke like I did?

Thank you for reading! Please comment your thoughts, vote by pressing the little star, and if you want, you can like follow me too. Xx

~B