The expiration date

The day of the prom finally arrived.

Nyla woke up way earlier than she usually did, the morning light barely tracing the edges of her bedroom window.

It was obvious to anyone looking at her that she was vibrating with pure excitement. She practically bounded out of bed, slipped into her house slippers, and flew downstairs to the kitchen where the comforting aroma of breakfast was already waiting.

“Looks like someone is excited for the school event,” Isabelle commented, a knowing, warm smile on her face as she spread a thick layer of golden butter over a slice of warm toast.

“Of course I am!” Nyla beamed, instantly snatching the toast straight from her mother's hands and taking a massive, delighted bite.

“Hey, that was for your dad!” Isabelle chuckled, shaking her head.

Nyla gave a sheepish, dimpled grin, her mouth half-full. “Hehe, sorry!”

The moment breakfast was over, Nyla locked herself in her room to begin the transformation.

She carefully slipped into the elegant lilac gown, the fabric falling around her frame like a soft, pastel cloud.

She let her long brown hair cascade down her shoulders in loose, glossy waves, applied a perfect layer of shiny pink lipstick, and finished the look by putting on a delicate pearl necklace with matching pearl earrings.

Stepping out into the living room, she did a fluid, graceful spin, letting the hem of the dress flare out beautifully. “I'm ready, Dad. Let's go.”

“You look amazing, princess,” Vincent said, his eyes crinkling with genuine pride as he looked up from his paper.

Her mom passed her a soft, adoring smile. “Beautiful,” she commented softly, adjusting a stray strand of Nyla's hair.

Nyla blushed, waving her hands dismissively but secretly glowing inside. “Oh, come on, guys, you're exaggerating.”

The drive went by in an anxious flash. Her dad pulled up to the glittering, brightly lit entrance of the school, unlocking the doors with a soft click. “Have fun!” he called out.

Nyla nodded, her eyes already scanning the glamorous arrivals spilling onto the sidewalk. She spotted Lily stepping out of her car and immediately ran over, her gown rustling as she threw her arms around her.

“GIRL, you look absolutely stunning!” Nyla gasped, admiring Lily’s beautiful, vibrant yellow gown.

“Nah! You look way more pretty,” Lily countered, nudging her playfully and making Nyla’s cheeks burn a deeper, happier pink.

They both burst into a fit of giggles, clutching each other's hands as they walked through the grand double doors and entered the crowded hallway where everyone was gathered.

The room was a shimmering sea of gorgeous dresses and sharp suits, but Nyla’s world instantly narrowed. Her eyes automatically locked onto one person.

Damian looked too handsome to be true. He was standing beside Adrien, wearing a crisp, tailored white dress shirt, a sharp black tie, and matching black pants.

His heavy suit coat was draped loosely over his shoulders like a cape, giving him an air of effortless sophistication. As they watched, he ran his fingers through his messy black hair, causing Nyla to gulp hard, a sudden rush of heat—that familiar, consuming fever—washing over her.

Lily gently elbowed her side, noticing her daze. “Hehe, he looks good, huh?” she teased in a low voice.

Nyla gave her a playful push, her eyes never leaving him. “Shut up.”

Then, Nyla noticed the bouquet of deep, velvety red roses clutched tightly in his hand. Roses were her absolute favorite flower in the entire world. Just staring at them, a flush of absolute certainty spread through her veins. He had remembered. He bought them for her. He had to have.

But her beautiful fantasy was brutally shattered a second later.

A girl walked into the hallway, moving with a sharp, piercing confidence that map it seem like she owned the entire school. She was wearing a striking, dramatic black gown, her flawless blonde hair catching the light. She stopped right in front of Damian.

Nyla’s breath caught painfully in her throat. Her hands clenched into tight, trembling fists as she watched Damian smile warmly—a genuine smile he rarely shared—and hand the red roses directly into the blonde girl's arms.

“Relax, please—” Lily whispered frantically, noticing the dangerous, rigid shift in Nyla’s posture.

Damian sat down at a nearby table with Chloé, the two of them instantly falling into an easy, smiling conversation. All around them, the crowd of students laughed, ate, and mingled under the dim party lights. But Nyla’s vision had tunneled into a piercing point of pure rage.

Abruptly, she stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“Where are you going?” Lily warned, reaching out to grab her hand in a panic.

Nyla violently yanked her arm free, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “I can't bear this.”

With storming, unyielding strides, Nyla marched straight up to their table. Before either of them could even react, she reached down, snatched the roses violently from Chloé’s hands, and threw them forcefully across the floor, scattering red petals everywhere.

The sweet, heavy scent of crushed roses immediately filled the space between them.

“Are you freaking insane?!” Damian roared, his voice booming over the music as he slammed his hands on the table.

Chloé flinched violently, covering her face in shock.

“Yes, I'm insane!” Nyla screamed back, her voice trembling with a raw, broken fury.

“Because I freaking thought you were gonna ask me out, and now you're here having a chit-chat with this dumb blonde girl!”

Chloé snapped her head up, her eyes flashing with anger. “Excuse me?!”

The entire music seemed to die down, and the crowd’s attention slammed instantly onto the scene. A suffocating, judgmental silence fell over the hallway.

“Who said I was going to ask you out?!” Damian snapped fiercely, towering over her as he stood up, his blue eyes flashing with a terrifying irritation.

Nyla stumbled back a half-step, her chest heaving heavily. “You were!” she insisted desperately, clinging to her shattered hope.

But what he said next felt like a bucket of ice water poured directly over her bare soul.

“I've always thought of you as a friend!” Damian barked, his face twisted in utter disgust. “I don't know what kind of delusional, pathetic crap you have about us playing inside your head!”

“You son of a—”

“Enough!” Damian snarled, cutting her off with a dangerous edge to his voice the moment the curse left her lips.

Adrien immediately stepped between them, holding Damian back by his shoulder before things escalated further. “Ne fais pas de scène, Damian,” he muttered under his breath, trying to de-escalate the glaring eyes of the student body.

Lily rushed to Nyla’s side, trying to pull her away, but Nyla remained stern, her heels dug into the floor as she glared through her tears. “I won't accept that!” she spat.

Damian let out a dark, breathless, mocking chuckle. He leaned in close, his blue eyes turning incredibly, chillingly cold. “Okay, be it. With the power my family has, you won't even see tomorrow's sun.”

Nyla glared right back into his dark soul, refusing to back down. “I dare you.”

Damian backed away, turning his attention back to Chloé, who was sitting with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, looking thoroughly humiliated.

He knelt down gracefully in front of her, his voice dropping to a soft, pleading murmur. “I'm sorry.”

“I'm sorry,” Nyla mimicked in a mocking, bitter, high-pitched tone, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Damian’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth gritted audibly. Adrien glanced at Nyla, his expression grave as he spoke in a warm but heavy warning accent. “It'll be better if you leave right now.”

Before Nyla could fire back another insult, Lily forcefully grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the hallway toward the quiet side exit. “Are you out of your mind?!” Lily hissed the moment they were alone.

“Didn't you see how Damian—”

“Damian is not a good guy!” Lily interjected fiercely, her eyes wide with genuine fear. “I have known him for longer than you have! At least... the new him. You don't know what he's capable of when he's angry, Nyla.”

On the other side of the building, Damian marched into a quiet, shadowy corridor, pulling out his phone with furious movements. His fingers flew across the screen as he dialed a private number.

“Dude, don't do this,” Adrien pleaded, catching up to him in the dim hall. “She just likes you. She's crazy, but she likes you.”

“Nah, she triggered me,” Damian snarled, his voice trembling with a terrifying, calm authority. “She has only seen the sweet side of Damian. Let her see the demon.”

The call picked up on the other end, a rough voice answering. “Yeah?”

“There is a girl here wearing a lilac gown,” Damian ordered coldly into the receiver. “She has light brown hair and pearl jewelry. Get her in the car and take her out to the desolate stretch.”

“Right now?” the man asked.

“Yes.”

“Send me the location and the timing, and I'll be over.”

Adrien shook his head, a look of pure dread on his face. “I don't think this is right, Damian.”

“I don't care,” Damian snapped, pocketing his phone without a hint of remorse. “She disrespected me. And disrespect always comes with a cost.”

Later that evening, the event finally came to a close, and the heavy atmosphere felt suffocating. Students began spilling out into the cool, dark night air.

Lily and Nyla walked alongside each other toward the gravel parking lot. Nyla was completely silent now, her vibrant energy totally drained, merely nodding along to whatever Lily was saying.

Lily was trying her best to soothe her, reiterating that running after a guy like Damian was just a waste of her fragile heart.

But as the girls stepped onto the darker pavement near the edge of the lot, a sleek black car with tinted windows screeched to a halt directly in front of them, blocking their path.

Before either of them could even scream, a large, intimidating man stepped out of the driver's seat. His hand shot out like lightning, clamping like a vice around Nyla’s forearm.

“Let me go!” Nyla shrieked, struggling with all her might as her balance wavered.

She tried to shove him back, but his grip only tightened painfully, bruising her skin. With one brutal, unyielding shove, he threw her into the back seat of the vehicle.

“Help! Help! There’s a kidnapper!” Lily screamed at the top of her lungs, spinning around frantically to face the school.

But before her cries could reach the lingering crowd, the man pulled a heavy black handgun from his jacket and pointed it directly at Lily's face. Lily's breath hitched, her throat locking as she gulped in pure, paralyzing terror.

A few nearby students saw the scene unfolding from a distance and tried to step forward, but the sight of the gun made them freeze instantly in their tracks.

The man slammed the door shut, jumped into the driver's seat, and slammed on the gas, the tires smoking as the black car sped away into the night.

Trembling and sobbing, Lily sprinted back toward the main building, screaming frantically for help. Just as she reached the curb of the main road, Vincent’s car pulled up.

“Hello, Lily,” he greeted warmly, rolling down the window with a smile.

“Uncle! A black car just came and took Nyla away! I tried my best to stop them, but they had a gun!” Lily shrieked, tears streaming down her face as she clutched the car door.

“WHAT?!” Vincent shouted, the warmth completely draining from his face as he went entirely pale. “What? Where? How?!” He threw his hands over his head, a wave of sheer, helpless panic paralyzing him.

The surrounding students and parents rushed over, trying to calm him down, frantically suggesting they drive straight to the police station.

Inside the speeding car, Nyla was fighting like a wild animal in the backseat. “Let me go! You monster!” she screamed, violently hacking at the door handles and slamming her fists against the glass.

“Don't test my patience, kid,” the man replied from the front, a dark, amused smirk visible in the rearview mirror.

“I swear I'll jump out!” she threatened, her voice cracking with hysteria.

“Go ahead,” he replied coolly. He pressed a button on the console, and a heavy, automated click echoed through the frame. The child locks were on.

Nyla threw her weight against the door. Ugh! She pulled and pushed with everything she had left, but the cold metal wouldn't budge. She finally collapsed back against the leather seat, heavy tears spilling over her cheeks and ruining her makeup. “Why are you doing this to me?!”

“Shh.”

The man casually pulled out his phone, dialed a familiar number, and hit the speakerphone button. A sharp ringing tone filled the tense, terrifying air of the car.

The line clicked open.

“Ask him yourself,” the driver smirked, glancing back at her.

“Damian!” Nyla shrieked into the phone, pressing herself forward against the front seats. “You did this! You freaking did this!”

A low, smooth, incredibly bored voice drifted through the speakers. “I warned you, chika, never to curse at me.”

Hearing his voice, the reality of the danger and the sheer cruelty of the boy she loved finally broke through her pride. Nyla’s eyes filled with heavy, desperate tears. “I'm sorry... please, just let me go.

I'm so sorry, Damian!”

There was a long, agonizing pause on the line, nothing but the sound of the car's engine filling the silence. Nyla held her breath, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as she awaited her fate.

“I'll think about it,” Damian finally murmured.

Nyla kept weeping, pouring out apology after apology into the speaker, debasing herself just to hear him relent. Damian let out a slow, irritated sigh.

“Let her out,” he instructed the driver. Then, his voice sharpened into pure iron. “But Nyla? If anyone ever hears that I was involved in this... expect much worse.”

The line went dead.

The driver pulled the car over to the side of a pitch-black, completely abandoned road surrounded by dark trees, and unlocked the doors. “You have three seconds to get out, or you're coming with me.”

Nyla’s eyes widened in sheer panic as the man began to count. “One... two...”

She scrambled out of the vehicle in a flurry of lilac fabric, tumbling onto the rough gravel.

In her haste, her high heels were left behind on the floorboards of the car. The heavy door slammed shut, and the black vehicle sped away into the darkness, leaving her completely stranded.

She was barefoot. She had no idea where she was.

With panic fueling her trembling limbs, she started running. She ran blindly down the asphalt, her breath coming in ragged, desperate gasps.

Within minutes, the rough road and sharp little pebbles began to cut deep into her bare, soft soles, making her feet incredibly sore, bruised, and bloody. But the fear of the dark kept her moving.

Meanwhile, Vincent was tearing down the highway in a car alongside Lily's father, his eyes scanning the dark ditches in pure, agonizing torment. Suddenly, Lily leaned forward from the back seat, her eyes locking onto a limping, pale figure in a torn, stained lilac dress.

“Stop, stop! Stop the car!” Lily screamed, pointing out the window.

The tires screeched to a harsh halt. Vincent and Lily threw their doors open before the car had even fully stopped, sprinting into the darkness toward Nyla.

“Are you okay?!” Vincent roared, wrapping his arms around his daughter in a tight, crushing, protective hug. He draped his own heavy suit jacket over her shivering shoulders, his hands shaking violently as he checked her face for injuries.

“I'm never sending you anywhere alone again. Oh gosh... did anyone hurt you?!”

“Are you fine?” Lily asked, wiping her own fresh tears as she held Nyla's hand.

Nyla looked at her terrified father, her voice trembling but forced into a brave compliance. “Yes, Dad, don't worry. I'm a brave girl. I'm fine.”

They gently helped her into the back seat of the car, securing the jacket around her.

“Oh, I'm so relieved,” her dad breathed, pulling her head down to lay safely against his chest. Nyla lay there completely still in the dark, listening to the terrified, rapid thumping of her father's heartbeat.

But her dad's heartbeat wasn't what was echoing in her mind. All she could hear, looping over and over again in the eerie silence of her head, was Damian’s cold, commanding voice on the phone. How much he had changed. How easily he had ordered her terror.

How carelessly he had broken every single beautiful thing they had built.

And right then, staring out into the dark, unforgiving night, she realized a fundamental truth.

Even promises have an expiration date.

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