Eyes That Burn

Cody POV

I tug at the collar of my borrowed jacket and feel out of place. The party sparkles around me. Lights flash bright. Music thumps loud in my chest. People laugh too much, their voices bouncing off the shiny walls. I don’t fit here. I’m just a dancer with no money and a messy life, sneaking into this fancy Hollywood bash to escape my problems. My sneakers squeak on the polished floor. I dodge trays of tiny sandwiches and girls in sparkly dresses. Everyone looks important. Actors. Singers. Rich people with big smiles. I’m nobody, but I’m here anyway.

My hands sweat. I wipe them on my jeans and grab a glass of fizzy soda from a waiter passing by. It’s free, so it’s not stealing. I sip it fast. Too sweet. My heart beats hard, but I lift my chin and pretend I belong. No invite. No famous name to drop. Just a tip from a friend who knows a guy who knows a guy. Get in, meet someone, get out. That’s the plan. But the room spins with fake laughs and loud chatter. I don’t know where to start. My stomach twists. I need air.

Then I spot the balcony doors. They’re open, letting in a cool breeze. Perfect. I slip past a group of men in suits talking about some movie deal. My shoulder brushes one guy, and he glares, but I keep moving. I push through the glass doors and step outside. The night feels good. Quiet. Stars blink above the L.A. skyline. The city glows below, all lights and noise, but up here it’s calm. I lean on the railing and take a deep breath. The soda fizzes against my lips. For a second, I think I can do this. I can make it here.

I hear footsteps behind me. They’re unsteady, like someone’s tripping. I turn quick. A guy stumbles out, tall with dark hair messed up in a cool way. His eyes catch the light, sharp and deep. He holds a half-empty glass, swaying a little. A grin spreads across his face, slow and secret. My stomach flips hard. I know him. Ryan Maddox. The actor everyone loves. His last movie was huge. His face is on billboards everywhere, smiling that killer smile. He’s famous. He’s a big deal. And I’m just me.

He catches himself on the railing and laughs soft. His voice is low and smooth, even with a little slur. “Oops. Didn’t mean to crash your spot.”

I laugh too, but it’s shaky. “It’s okay. I’m the one crashing this whole party.”

He squints at me and tilts his head. His eyes roam over me, slow and curious. “You don’t look like these people. No fancy suit. No shiny watch. What’s your story?”

I shrug and try to play it cool. “Dancer. Trying to make it big. Big dreams, no cash.”

He steps closer. “Honest. I like that.” His breath smells like whiskey and something sharp, maybe cologne. It hits me hard. “I’m Ryan.”

“I know,” I say too fast, then wince. “I mean, hi. I’m Cody.”

He chuckles. It’s warm, not mean. “Cody the dancer. Nice.” He sips his drink and watches me over the glass. “You any good?”

I smirk a little. “Good enough. Want proof?”

His grin gets bigger. “Yeah. Show me.”

My heart pounds. I don’t know why I said that. Maybe it’s the soda. Maybe it’s him. I set my glass on the railing and step back. The balcony’s small, but I’ve got space. I roll my shoulders and listen for the music inside. It’s faint, but I catch the beat. I move. A quick sway. A spin. Nothing big, just letting my body flow. He watches me close, eyes locked on every step. My skin gets hot. I stop and catch my breath. He claps slow, like he means it.

“Wow,” he says. “You’ve got moves.”

“Thanks,” I say, panting. Not just from dancing. He’s closer now. My chest feels tight.

He steps in more. “Ever dance with someone?”

“Sometimes,” I say. My throat’s dry. “You asking?”

He doesn’t answer. He just sets his glass down and grabs my hand. His grip is warm and firm. I freeze for a second, too surprised to pull back. The music’s soft out here, but we find a rhythm. Slow. Messy. Fun. His hand stays in mine, the other resting light on my waist. I laugh because he’s tipsy and steps on my toes.

“You’re awful at this,” I tease.

“Shut up,” he says, grinning. “I’m a star. I don’t need to dance good.”

“Oh, sure, Mr. Famous,” I say. He laughs loud, real and free.

We spin a little, clumsy but close. I feel dizzy, but it’s not the moves. It’s him. His eyes stay on me, dark and bright. I can’t look away. The balcony feels like ours. The party’s far off now. He pulls me tighter. His breath brushes my cheek. My pulse races. I don’t know if it’s the night or him or both.

“You’re trouble,” he mutters. His smirk is lazy.

“Me?” I say, faking a gasp. “You’re the one dragging me around.”

“Dragging?” He raises an eyebrow. “You’re keeping up fine.”

I roll my eyes, but my smile’s too big to hide. We stop moving. Just stand there. Inches apart. The air feels heavy. My heart’s loud in my ears. He looks at me like I’m something new. Something he wants. I don’t know what to do, but I like it. A lot.

He leans closer. His hand brushes my arm, light but warm. My skin tingles where he touches. “You’re not like them in there,” he says soft. “All fake. You’re real.”

I blush hard. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He laughs quiet this time. We don’t talk for a minute. Just look at each other. The party noise creeps back, faint but there. I want to stay here forever, but it’s risky. He’s Ryan Maddox. Cameras could be anywhere. I’m just Cody.

“Want a smoke?” he says, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lights it and takes a drag, then holds it out to me. Our fingers touch when I take it. Sparks shoot up my arm. I puff quick and pass it back. He smirks and steps even closer. Our thighs press together against the railing. My breath catches. His free hand slides to my hip, resting there easy. Too easy.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous,” he says. His voice drops low. He leans in more. I feel the heat off him. My whole body buzzes. The cigarette dangles between his fingers, forgotten. His lips are so close now. I can smell the smoke on him, mixed with that sharp cologne. I want him to kiss me. Bad.

“Cody,” he whispers. His hand moves up, cupping the back of my neck. His thumb brushes my skin. I shiver. My hands grip the railing tight. He’s about to close the gap. I can feel it. My lips part a little, ready.

“Hey!” a voice yells from inside. Loud. Sharp. It cuts through the air. Ryan freezes. His eyes flick toward the doors, wide and annoyed. My stomach drops. Someone’s coming.