Ch. 4 — Balcony War

The next night, it began again.

Ruby had barely finished brushing her hair when she heard it — that familiar, taunting clink of a balcony door sliding open. She froze, staring at her reflection in the mirror. No. No way. She wasn’t doing this again.

But then the muffled laughter.

And the voice she was learning to hate on a cellular level drifted across the humid night air.

Ruby sighed, marched toward her own balcony, and pushed the door open.

Right on cue, Kai stepped out of his — as if the universe had written them into the same script and was determined to see what chaos they’d create. He leaned casually on the railing, a bottle of sparkling water dangling from his fingers like it was part of his personality.

“Princess,” he greeted, smirk firmly in place.

Ruby didn’t even hesitate.

“Spoiled brat.”

Kai actually laughed — a low, warm sound that carried across the space between them. “Wow. Upgrading already. Last night it was ‘annoying.’ I feel honored.”

She crossed her arms. “Do you always bother your neighbors, or am I special?”

“Oh, you’re definitely special,” he said with a grin that was far too slow and deliberate. “Most people don’t yell at me on day one.”

“Maybe they should.”

Maybe someone should’ve put him in his place years ago.

Kai tilted his head, studying her with a lazy curiosity that made her skin prickle. “Maybe I like it when you do.”

Ruby’s whole body flushed — not with flattery, but with irritation so hot it could power the building.

She pointed at him. “No. Don’t say things like that. You’re not charming.”

He shrugged. “I don’t try to be.”

“Exactly! That’s the problem!”

“Pretty sure you’re the only person who thinks that.”

Ruby groaned into her hands. “I cannot deal with you.”

“You’re doing a great job so far,” he said, unbothered.

She leaned against her railing, glaring at him through the soft glow of the city lights. “School better be quiet. Because I swear, if you show up blasting music—”

Kai pushed off his railing slowly, almost thoughtfully. The playful glint in his eyes dimmed, replaced by something… sharper.

“If you think school will be better…” he said, voice dropping lower.

Ruby stiffened.

“…you’re wrong.”

A chill slid down her spine.

The shift in him was immediate. Gone was the flirtatious, obnoxious boy who loved to annoy her. In his place was something far more difficult to read — and far more unsettling.

Kai held her gaze for a long, heavy moment. He didn’t smile. He didn’t tease. He just looked at her like he knew a secret she wasn’t ready to hear.

For the first time since meeting him, Ruby didn’t have a comeback.

Something inside her whispered:

He’s warning you.

Not threatening.

Warning.

And she hated the twist of unease that curled in her stomach.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she finally asked, voice quieter than she intended.

Kai lifted a shoulder. “Just telling you the truth.”

“That I’m going to have a bad time?” she shot back, trying to sound braver.

“Only if you’re not careful.”

“Careful of what?”

He hesitated — actually hesitated — and Ruby wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him do that before. He glanced toward the street, jaw flexing slightly.

Then the mask snapped back on.

The smirk.

The casual tilt of his head.

The easy smooth confidence that made people fall at his feet.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said lightly.

Ruby wanted to scream. “Why are you being weird? You can’t just say something creepy and vague and then act normal.”

“That wasn’t creepy,” Kai said. “It was educational.”

“Oh my God.”

He laughed softly. “Relax, Princess. You’ll survive.”

Ruby narrowed her eyes. “Why do you even care?”

Kai’s smirk faltered.

Just a little.

Enough that Ruby’s breath caught.

He angled his body away, gaze drifting to the street below like he suddenly needed an escape route from his own expression.

“I don’t,” he said. Too quickly. Too defensive.

Ruby almost said something — almost pushed again — but then Kai’s balcony door slid open, and one of his friends poked his head out.

“Yo, Kingston! You coming? They’re starting another game!”

Kai didn’t look away from Ruby immediately.

There was a flicker of conflict in his eyes — brief, but unmistakable.

Then the wall came back up.

“Yeah,” he said without looking at his friend. “I’m coming.”

He turned back to Ruby, the easy grin sliding into place like armor.

“Try not to dream about me,” he said with a wink.

Ruby’s jaw dropped. “In your—”

But Kai was already stepping inside, disappearing behind the door.

It clicked shut.

Ruby stood there, fists clenched, heart pounding for reasons she refused to identify.

What was that?

That shift?

That warning?

What did he know that she didn’t?

She took a deep breath and rested her arms on the railing, staring at the empty space where he’d stood a moment ago.

The city buzzed around her — the distant honking, the chatter of people on the street, the hum of traffic. But her world felt suddenly too quiet.

Too expectant.

She hated that Kai had gotten under her skin.

Hated that he looked almost… concerned.

But she hated one thing even more:

The way her chest tightened when he walked away.

As if the balcony felt colder without him there.

She jerked back from the railing. No. Absolutely not. She wasn’t doing this. She refused to let a spoiled, arrogant, driveway-blocking, music-blasting, nickname-assigning brat affect her nerves.

She stomped inside and shut the balcony door firmly.

But long after she climbed into bed…

Long after she turned off the lights…

Long after the apartment fell silent…

Ruby still couldn’t shake the echo of his voice.

“If you think school will be better… you’re wrong.”

And for the first time since moving to New York, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what tomorrow would bring.