You were in love — or at least, you thought you were. Ted was everything a girl could dream of: calm, kind, never jealous, and always ready to make you laugh. He was the picture of perfection, a true prince in every sense. But sometimes, late at night when the world was quiet, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that something was missing. That spark, that wild rush of butterflies in your stomach, seemed to elude you.

The New Year’s party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as you stood on the balcony, watching the crowd below. Ted had gone to fetch drinks, ever the thoughtful boyfriend, leaving you to soak in the moment alone. That’s when it happened— someone grabbed you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

It was Carlos, your best friend. His disheveled hair and the faint smell of whiskey told you he was drunk, very drunk. His hands gripped your shoulders, steadying himself as he leaned in close. His eyes, glassy yet intense, locked onto yours, piercing through every wall you’d ever built.

“You’re not in love.” he said, his voice low but firm. “Snap out of it.”

The words hit you like a jolt, leaving you breathless. Carlos had always been the one to challenge you, to push you to see things you didn’t want to admit. And now, in the middle of a crowded party, with the new year just minutes away, he was doing it again — forcing you to confront the truth you’d been too scared to face.