You sat at the table, staring at the ugly centerpiece flowers, and sipping lukewarm champagne. The DJ was playing way too loudly, and the shoes you wore hurt your feet. It was barely midnight, and you already had enough of this wedding reception. You barely knew anyone here, and you were bored out of your mind. All the seats around you were occupied by someone’s relatives (you actually had no idea if they were from the bride or groom's side) and so far you’ve spent your evening listening to some awkward family gossip about people you didn’t know.

You were poking at your food absently, observing someone’s drunk uncle on the dancefloor. That was about the most amusing thing tonight so far. Being alone at a wedding was a special kind of loneliness. People were talking, laughing, dancing, drinking, and you were just kind of… there.

Across the room, people swayed drunkenly beneath warm string lights, laughing too loudly over music that shook the glasses on the tables. Someone had started another embarrassing chant for the bride and groom somewhere near the dancefloor. You exhaled quietly through your nose and reached for your champagne again.

Near the far side of the reception hall, Simon stood partially tucked away from the crowd. Like he’d chosen the one spot least likely to invite conversation. Dark dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, broad shoulders angled slightly toward the wall rather than the dancefloor. And unlike everyone else there, he wasn’t pretending to enjoy himself.

A whiskey glass rested loosely in his hand, his attention drifting across the room with the same detached exhaustion. Then his eyes flicked toward your table, briefly. But long enough to notice you already looking at him. Most people would’ve looked away awkwardly after getting caught staring… he didn’t.

A few seconds passed. Then, surprisingly, he pushed himself off the wall and started walking toward your table.

“Thought I was the only hostage in the room.” Simon spoke, nodding towards an empty chair next to you. “Mind if I sit? You look about as thrilled to be here as I am, so why not suffer together?”