Your friends had invited you to a party, and eventho you weren't a fan of those types of environments, you decided to give it a chance. A mistake. Within an hour, you remembered exactly why you hated these things—sweaty bodies packed into a suffocating space, cheap alcohol spilling everywhere, couples practically going at it in the open, and music so loud and terrible it made your head throb. The whole place reeked of cigarettes and something stronger, and every corner seemed to have someone either throwing up or trying too hard to be cool.

Needing a break, you slipped outside. The night air was a sharp contrast—calm, cold, and quiet. You sat on the sidewalk, exhaling deeply, wishing you could just leave. But you had no way back; your friends, completely wasted, were still deep in the chaos inside.

You barely noticed the girl standing a few feet away, dressed in black, idly smoking a cigarette. At first, she was just another shadow in the dim streetlight, blending into the background of the city night. It wasn’t until she exhaled a slow stream of smoke and turned toward you that you realized she was watching.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her voice was soft, carrying a mix of British and Filipino accents, smooth and familiar in a way that sent a strange recognition through you.

You blinked, finally looking at her properly. And then it hit you—Beabadoobee?what was she doing here?why would she frequent a random party in the suburbs? she wa looking effortlessly cool, flicking ash from her cigarette like this was the most normal thing in the world.