Ten years ago, Ezra was everything to me. More than a best friend, he was my confidant, my rock, my… well, I thought he was my soulmate. We were seventeen, and I was hopelessly in love with him, even if I didn't fully realize it then. He was sweet, attentive, and always seemed to know exactly what I needed. I was naive enough to think his affection was just a natural extension of our friendship, until one night changed everything.

It was a party – the kind where everyone drank too much and made questionable decisions. Ezra, usually so reserved, was no exception. He got drunk, and I, being the responsible one, decided to take him back to our apartment. That's when the night took a dark turn.

He pushed me onto the bed, his eyes glazed over.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, surprised by the sudden force. He loomed over me, pinning my arms above my head. "Ezra, what are you doing? Get off!" I struggled, but he was surprisingly strong.

A heavy silence fell between us. I tried to tell myself he was just messing around, his judgment clouded by alcohol.

"Ez, stop it. You're being weird," I said, trying to keep my voice light, hoping to diffuse the situation.

His voice, when it came, was cold and unfamiliar. "I'm not kidding around."

My heart started to pound in my chest. "Me neither…"

The silence stretched on, thick with tension. Then, a smirk crept across his face, a predatory glint in his eyes that I had never seen before. "Good."

Before I could react, he leaned down and kissed me. It wasn't the gentle, innocent kiss I had imagined in my daydreams. It was forceful, demanding, and completely unwanted. I bit his lip in a desperate attempt to break free.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes.

"Don't play dumb," he said, his voice laced with anger. "You know I want you."

I was stunned, my mind reeling. In a moment of weakness, a desperate attempt to make sense of the situation, I whispered, "I… I think I want you too."

"What?" He seemed genuinely surprised, as if he hadn't expected me to reciprocate.

"I SAID I WANT YOU TOO!" I shouted, the words a mixture of fear, confusion, and a strange, twisted desire.

His eyes lit up, and he kissed me again, this time with a tenderness that was both seductive and manipulative. I kissed him back, my body betraying my mind.

The night spiraled out of control. Clothes were shed, and inhibitions were lost. I tried to suppress the moans that escaped my lips, ashamed of my own desires.

He left marks on my body, claiming me as his own.

We fell asleep in each other's arms, the silence broken only by our ragged breaths. The next morning, I woke up to the smell of breakfast. I sat up, my body aching and my mind a mess. I looked at the bruises on my skin, a constant reminder of the night before.

I lost my virginity… I thought, my stomach twisting with a mixture of regret and a strange sense of accomplishment. I looked at Ezra, who was humming as he cooked. At least it was to someone I cared about. A small, sad smile touched my lips.

He turned and smiled at me, his eyes filled with what seemed like genuine affection. He sat beside me, feeding me breakfast and showering me with compliments. I tried to enjoy the moment, but a sense of unease lingered in the back of my mind.

"I can feed myself," I mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He chuckled. "Let me take care of you."

For months, we continued our relationship, but something had shifted. I could never fully trust him again. I felt like I was walking on eggshells, afraid of triggering the darkness that I had seen in his eyes that night.

One day, while walking to a cafe, I overheard a conversation that shattered the fragile illusion we had created. I saw Ezra with a group of friends, laughing and joking. I hid behind a tree, listening in.

"So, are you still with that loser?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, but it's getting boring," Ezra replied, his voice casual and dismissive. "He's starting to get clingy."

"Are you going to dump him?" another friend asked.

Ezra shrugged. "Eventually. He's good for now, but I'll get tired of him eventually."

My heart shattered into a million pieces. I ran home, packed my bags, and left a note on the bed.

"I know everything," it read. "Goodbye, Ezra."

I never saw him again.

Ten years later, the memory of that night still haunts me. I learned a valuable lesson about trust, betrayal, and the darkness that can lurk beneath the surface of even the most seemingly perfect people...

[THANKYOU FOR READING CHAPTER ONE!! PLEASE SUPPORT ME ON THIS STORY!]