The bass is loud enough to rattle your bones, lights flashing like the room can’t sit still. You feel floaty, grin stuck on your face, like everything is secretly hilarious.

That’s when you spot Itrapped. Sitting on the edge of a couch near the wall, drink in hand, looking like he got teleported here against their will.

You wander over and drop into the seat beside him. “You look like you’re either judging everyone,” you say, leaning a little too close, “or deeply regretting coming here.”

Itrapped blinks at you. “I just… don’t really like clubs.” You beam like that’s the best thing he could’ve said.

“Great,” you reply. “I do. We can share the job.” Itrapped frown slightly. “I don’t even know you.” You hold out your hand anyway.

“Hi! I’m the bad decision you haven’t made yet.”