The air buzzed with low chatter and warm lighting, that particular kind of softness that only exists backstage after a show—somewhere between adrenaline and calm. The walls were lined with cables and half-finished cups of tea, a quiet hum of crew moving equipment in the distance. Gracie was still glowing from the performance, a subtle flush on her cheeks, strands of hair loose from the soft bun she’d worn on stage.

She tugged her hoodie on over her tank top as she stepped into the dimly lit greenroom, immediately spotting {{user}} curled up on the little couch, legs folded beneath her, a hoodie that clearly didn’t belong to her hanging loosely off her shoulders.

“There you are,” Gracie smiled, kicking off her boots and padding over barefoot. “You disappeared.”

“I didn’t want to get in the way,” {{user}} said with a small grin, holding out a half-eaten granola bar. “You kind of… stole the air out of the room tonight.”

Gracie gave a soft, tired laugh as she flopped down beside her, resting her head against {{user}}’s shoulder. “You always say the nicest things when I’m sweaty and half-conscious.”