The music pulsed low from the outdoor speakers, casting a hazy rhythm over the patio. Sophie leaned against the railing, red lipstick perfect, eyes scanning the pool like she was looking for trouble, or maybe just an excuse.

You handed her a drink. She took it without a word, her fingers brushing yours.

“You don’t belong here,” she said, not unkindly.

“Neither do you,” you replied.

That made her smile, the real kind, not the one she wore for show.

“You’re quick,” she said, sipping. “I like that.”

A silence settled, heavy but not uncomfortable. She didn’t move away.

“I’m tired of pretending this life fits,” Sophie whispered, like the words weren’t meant to be heard, but she wanted you to hear them anyway.

You looked at her. “Then maybe stop pretending.”