Dani Voss walked the university corridor like he owned every inch of the chipped linoleum under his boots. Long dark hair spilled over his shoulders in loose waves, catching the fluorescent lights and turning them soft, almost liquid. He wore an oversized black hoodie that swallowed his slim frame, sleeves pushed up to reveal delicate wrists stacked with silver bracelets, and ripped skinny jeans that hugged narrow hips and long legs. Eyeliner winged sharp at the corners of his eyes, lips glossy with clear balm that caught the light every time he smirked. He moved with a sway that wasn't exaggerated but impossible to ignore, hips rolling just enough to make heads turn.
Around him his girls orbited like colorful satellites. Mia on his left, braids swinging as she laughed at something he'd whispered. Jade on his right, phone already out snapping candid shots for her story. Tara trailed behind, balancing three iced coffees and complaining about her morning lecture. They were loud, vibrant, unapologetic, a pack of energy that made the hallway feel smaller and brighter. Dani tossed his head back at one of Mia's jokes, laughter ringing clear and bright, the sound cutting through the usual campus drone like a bell. Heads turned. Phones lifted. Whispers followed.
To the girls in the art department he was everything: muse, confidant, walking inspiration. They begged him to model for their figure studies, stole his lip gloss, borrowed his hoodies when they were cold. He let them. He loved the way their eyes lit up when he struck a pose, the way they called him "pretty" without hesitation, the way they defended him like lions when anyone got too mouthy. Dani soaked it in, gave it back tenfold with teasing compliments and late-night studio sessions where they painted until dawn.
The boys were a different story. As Dani passed a cluster of them leaning against lockers, the sneers came right on cue. One muttered "freak" under his breath, loud enough to carry. Another elbowed his friend and snorted, eyes raking over Dani's outfit like it was a personal offense. A third just stared, jaw tight, arms crossed, the kind of look that said he didn't know whether to hit or look away. Dani felt every glance like pinpricks but didn't flinch. He met one of their eyes, held it for a beat too long, then flashed a slow, unbothered smile that made the guy flush red and turn away. Queer and proud wasn't a slogan for Dani; it was bone-deep. Let them grumble. Let them stare. He'd outlast them all.
He reached his usual corner table in the atrium, dropped his bag, and sank into a chair with theatrical grace. The girls piled around him, chattering about weekend plans and bad professors. Dani pulled out his sketchbook, flipping to a half-finished drawing of a city skyline bleeding neon, pencil already moving. He listened with half an ear, nodding, teasing back, but his mind wandered to the party invite he'd seen floating around earlier. Friday. Red Hall. Music loud enough to rattle bones. Perfect.
A shadow fell across his page. Dani looked up without stopping his sketch. Alex stood there, the golden boy of the senior class: tall, broad-shouldered, perfect jaw, hair artfully messy, the kind of handsome that made professors give extensions and girls drop their books. He wore a fitted white tee and jeans that probably cost more than Dani's monthly rent. Confidence rolled off him in waves, the easy kind that came from never hearing no.
"Hey, Dani," Alex said, voice smooth, smile practiced. "Got a minute?"
Dani lifted one brow, pencil pausing mid-stroke. "For you? Maybe." He leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, waiting.
Alex glanced at the girls. They exchanged looks, then stood in unison like they'd rehearsed it. "We'll grab snacks," Mia announced. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do." They vanished toward the vending machines, leaving the two of them in a bubble of sudden quiet.
Alex slid into the chair across from Dani, elbows on the table, leaning in. "So. I've been meaning to ask. You free this weekend? There's this thing at my place. Low-key. Good music. Better company." His eyes flicked over Dani's face, lingering on the lips, the eyeliner, the hair. "Thought you might like to come. With me."
Dani tilted his head, studying Alex like he was a still life he hadn't decided to paint yet. The offer hung there, clear as day. Most people would have jumped. Alex was the prize, the fantasy, the guy everyone whispered about. Dani felt nothing but mild curiosity.
He set his pencil down carefully. "That's sweet, Alex. Really. But I'm gonna pass."
Alex blinked. The smile faltered for half a second before he recovered. "You sure? I mean, it could be fun. Just us. No pressure."
Dani's expression stayed soft, polite, but firm. "I'm sure. You're gorgeous, no question. But you're not my type."
Alex laughed, short and surprised. "Not your type? Come on. What's that even mean?"
"It means exactly what it sounds like." Dani shrugged one shoulder. "I like what I like. And it's not this." He gestured vaguely between them, no cruelty, just honesty wrapped in velvet.
Alex's jaw tightened. He leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. "Right. Okay." A beat of silence stretched thin. Then, quieter: "Just… don't tell anyone about this, yeah? I don't need the whole campus talking."
Dani met his eyes, steady and calm. "My lips are sealed. Promise."
Alex nodded once, stood up, shoulders stiff. "Cool. See you around." He walked away fast, disappearing into the crowd like he couldn't get distance quick enough.
Dani exhaled through his nose, picked up his pencil again, and went back to shading the skyline. Rejection wasn't new. Neither was discretion. He didn't hold grudges; he just kept moving.
His phone buzzed on the table. Group chat lighting up.
Mia: "It's Friday party at Red Hall tonight. Who's in?"
Jade: "Me me me. Dani you better say yes."
Tara: "I'm bringing the good vodka. Dani???"
Dani's fingers flew across the screen.
"Wouldn't miss it for anything."
He hit send, a slow grin spreading across his face. The weekend just got interesting. Red Hall meant lights low, bass deep, bodies close, no rules. Exactly the kind of night where he could lose himself in the best way. He snapped his sketchbook shut, stood up, stretched like a cat in sunlight, and headed toward his next class with that same unhurried sway.
The hallway parted for him again. Sneers from the boys. Smiles from the girls. Dani didn't care. Tonight the city would burn bright, and he planned to burn brighter.