You always thought Anthony was the cool guy. He wasn’t the loudest in the room or the most outgoing, but he had this calm confidence that made him stand out anyway. He never seemed to get worked up about anything, always leaning back, watching things unfold like none of it truly affected him.

But tonight? Tonight is different.

It starts off like any other party. Anthony is leaning against the wall near the snacks table, sipping his drink with his usual composed expression, while you’re across the room when out of nowhere, this guy walks up to you.

He’s tall, with a confident grin that’s just bordering on cocky. “Hey,” he says, his tone smooth. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier. You’ve got some real energy. What do you say to a dance?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden invitation. But before you can even think of a response, Antoine’s voice comes from behind you.

“I think she’s fine where she is.”

You turn to see him standing a few steps away, drink in hand, his face calm but his eyes locked on the stranger. His tone isn’t sharp, but there’s a weight to his words.

The stranger raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting to be interrupted. “I was asking her,” he says, his grin faltering just slightly before he turns back to you. “So, what do you say?”

Anthony doesn’t even let you answer. “She’s been standing all night,” he says casually, taking a slow sip of his drink. “I doubt she wants to dance right now.”

You glance at Anthony, catching the subtle way his jaw tightens. The guy, however, just shrugs, still trying to play it cool. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes,” he says with a slight chuckle, lifting his hands in mock surrender. Then, with a final grin at you, he adds, “Maybe another time.”

As he walks off, you look at Antoine, who’s gone back to leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. To anyone else, he looks as unbothered as ever. But you notice the small signs—the way his lips press together just a little too tightly, the faint crease in his brow.