-Kylie-

I never realized how insane I could be until I found myself standing in front of him.

I didn't want to dance with him.

I didn't want to dance with anybody. And even if I did, it seriously wouldn't be him. He'd be the last person on the universe I would dance with.

But seeing his strange aura and courteous approach, I just found myself going al ong with him, as if there was a strong magnetic pull in his actions that kept me drawn to him. Genuine, courteous expressions and gestures were things that I ha d never seen in him until just now. He always had a cheeky attitude that never f ailed to aggravate me every single day. But where's it gone now?

Is this... is this really Tristan?

My heart never stopped its erratic beating once while we glided effortlessly acr oss the dance floor. I felt even worse when I noticed that some of the girls aro und us were glaring at me as if my dancing with this jerk was a crime. But serio usly, what I just did feel like a crime.

I was dancing with my mortal enemy, for Pete's sake!

His arms tightened around my waist, which made me flinch, as we went along. I co uldn't believe his hands were around me. I looked up with eyes of rage and notic ed that his cocky little smirk remained on his face.

I really wanted to scratch that off.

With his mischievous smile that showed off his dimples, and his black hair stand ing up on his head in a mess, he certainly looked like the demonic prince in a b lack tux - minus the trident, though. That's why most girls claimed they would d ie just to have a chance to dance with him, to touch his hand, to smell his sham poo, and even to count his eyelashes. But then again, he's Tristan Hartford, the guy who could always attract girls by his charms.

Yeah, right.

I gave him a smirk back. At this moment, I decided that I wasn't going to act as Kylie. This guy seemed not to recognize me, and that's a good thing.

Okay, Kylie, don't show any emotions. Don't show how badly you need to take a pe e. Seriously. Just act like you're a wall or something-

"Oh," I muttered, as I felt his shoe trapping the bottom of my gown.

His head shot up, a crimson shade filling his face until it reached up to the ti p of his ears. I quickly bit my tongue, preventing myself from making any noise that would easily reveal my identity. I dreaded having another person know my se cret - especially this person.

He quickly lifted his shoe off and mumbled, "Sorry."

My eyebrows rose at him in surprise, noticing his expression was a little mortif ied. Whoa, this was my first time seeing Tristan feel any sort of remorse, and i t's giving me a... weird feeling.

I nodded at his apology and tentatively went along with his steps. It was my fau lt, anyway. His little steps were all fine, but it's just a little difficult to follow at first - especially when my feet were not in the mood to go along with his.

Two small slides, a spin and another slide... Ah, I think I got it. Well, I thin k he worked this out for himself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Erik dancing with a girl wearing a flashy black dress. Veronica Sullivan. On the audience, I saw Fiona Ryder; her arms cr ossed over her chest. With her ebony hair coiffed above her head and her sparkly red dress, this girl stood up among the crowd. She held her head up high with b oredom and annoyance as she watched us.

I sighed. Since when did occasions like this become torture sessions?

Tristan cleared his throat, and I turned to him. His mouth opened, closed, and t hen opened again. I tried my best not to laugh. It was funny to see how he was s truggling for words.

"Uh, I guess I didn't introduce myself to you yet," he finally said, "I'm Trista n Hartford, and I'm sure you've already heard about me."

How could I have not? You're, like, the douchebag of the century!

"So, what's yours?" he added.

Upon hearing that, I became completely aghast. Ack - he's asking for my name! I bit my lip, and looked down, shaking my head a little.

"Okay... I guess you don't want to give me your name right away. But that's okay ," he said with a chuckle. "Say, do you wanna hangout after this? Drink cocktail s; stroll around and... maybe get to know each other?"

I shook my head again.

He bit his lower lip. "Oh... it's cool for me. I guess you'll be with your frien ds the whole night, right?" he said in a low, dissatisfied tone. But it quickly changed into something lively when he said again, "But I'm thinking, what if you and your friends would join us? I think it's going to be a blast."

I purposely stepped on his shoe.

"Ow," he hissed then forced a grin. "I, uh, I'll take that as a no." Then he wen t silent. His eyes were fixed on me for a moment, and then they turned away. He was puffing quite heavily as if he had bronchitis or something.

Was it just me, or was I seeing Tristan getting nervous? The overflowing confide nce that he had always maintained seemed to disappear in the moment.

I glanced away from him, letting my mind wander around the thought.

Okay... now this was getting really awkward. Seriously, was that music never goi ng to stop playing? That love song was practically making my eardrums burst.

"Hey, do you have any interest, like sports or anything?" Great, he's talking to me again. "Well, I like sports, especially basketball and soccer. But I'm not r eally into playing them since I'm more into academic stuff, like Math."

Should I say wow, or something?

I tried not to an eye-roll when he laughed. Yeah, he could be a potato head at t imes, but Tristan actually had a brain full of numbers and arithmetical crap. He could boast himself and his Math prowess, whatever. He might be lucky that he g ot his brains from his Dad. Great, now he was reminding me of how I barely hang on to a C in Calculus.

"So, uh..." he trailed off, licking his lower lip, and added cheerfully, "Tell m e what sports you're interested in. Maybe we have the same interests! C'mon, don 't be shy."

Wrestling, T. Wrestling. I absolutely love that sport and I even follow the move s on TV. I can try them with you if you ask me another darn question.

I shook my head again, groaning silently.

"Ah, I'm so stupid. Of course, you don't like sports. You're a girl, so you most ly like women stuff like shopping," he said, his voice dropping down once again.

He might be feeling utterly disappointed, since he's the only one holding down t his conversation with himself for the entire time, not getting any information f rom me at all.

Of course, I couldn't just talk and let him discover who I was. I didn't want to send myself to my own deathbed this early.

"Uh, listen. I've been wondering about this for a while now, but... why are you wearing a mask?" he asked hesitantly after a moment. "You're the only one who ar ound has that on. Why don't you remove them?"

I held my breath.

"Please? I want to see your face," he pleaded in a whisper. When I shook my head for the hundredth time, he said, "Why? Are you shy? No, don't be. Don't mind wh at other people would think, okay? Just show me who you are. Only me." He smiled . "I know there's a great beauty obscured under that mask. It would be a shame i f you keep on hiding it."

As he said that, I finally knew one of his moves: he was always using his oh-so-charming words to trick girls like this! I twitched my lips in a frown, showing how sickened I was because of the thought.

"You... really don't want to, huh?" A quiet laughter escaped his lips. "God, I c an't believe I met such reserved girl like you tonight." I flinched when he slow ly lifted my chin with his finger and added, "And you, Miss, have tickled my fan cy. You really look so beautiful. I want... to know you better."

Goosebumps filled me, and then my breathing came out rapid. I suddenly got the f unniest feeling in the pit of my stomach. In my ears, there was a silence, which was only interrupted by the strong beating of my heart. It was deafening, like it was going to blow up any second now. What the hell was this? Why was I gettin g some strange feelings?

Dammit, I should've left already!

But I couldn't. It felt like my feet were glued on to the floor and my arms were stuck to my sides. I couldn't move an inch!

Tristan's breath felt so warm on my face, and I realized that he was getting muc h closer; our noses were almost bumping with each other. This was the first time having him so close to me... What was he doing?

I gulped, my cheeks heating up even more than before. My eyes were getting water y for some unknown reason, but I quickly blinked them away. I tried to halt him, but all I did was make gasps with my parched throat.

Closer...

Closer...

No, no - stop. This can't be happening. Don't you dare Tristan! I swear I'm goin g to knock you so hard you'll be scarred for life if you-

A sudden gush escaped between my legs. I jerked away. Tristan quickly straighten ed up, pulling away from me with his mouth hanging open in shock.

Uh-oh.

I gulped. Had I actually wet myself? I was having these weird sensations all ov er, and my stomach had been dancing the entire time, so maybe I was having a sic kness like diarrhea or worse. Yeah, that's it!

I pushed Tristan's hands away from me and stepped back. His face immediately swi tched to a blank expression.

Sorry, T.

No, scratch that. I wasn't even sorry, and I didn't give a crap about anything.

He blinked several times, as if he was finally returning to the present, and exc laimed, "Wait! Don't leave-"

Too late. I had already pulled up my dress and was sprinting with speed through the crowd.

In case of emergency: run like hell.