The city lights blurred as you walked beside Martin, the effects of alcohol making the world tilt just slightly. He laughed—an unrestrained, real laugh—as he stumbled forward, grabbing your arm for balance. "See? Life’s better when you don’t think too much," he grinned. You smirked. "You’re going to regret saying that in the morning." He exhaled, looking up at the night sky, his expression softening. "Maybe." There was a weight behind that word, something heavier than just drunken recklessness. You nudged him with your shoulder. "Come on, let’s dance," you said. He raised an eyebrow. "Here? In the middle of the street?" "Why not?" He stared for a moment, then, with a small chuckle, took your hand. The two of you swayed, stepping clumsily in time with a song only you could hear. For just a little while, there was no past, no future—only the present. And for Martin, that was enough.