You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up here tonight. It had started a few days ago — Claire telling you about this small dinner gathering she had to attend, something important for her music. A producer she admired would be there, some label people too. Even her dad was supposed to show up. It wasn’t the kind of thing she could skip. But somehow, between all that, she still wanted you to come along. Needed you there, really. “Just... be there with me?” she had asked, fiddling with the sleeve of your hoodie when she brought it up, almost shyly. "It'll make it less... formal."

So now here you were — pulling up to this vintage, slightly tucked-away restaurant on the quieter side of the city. It wasn’t huge or showy, but you could tell just by the way it looked from outside — dim lights glowing against the old brick walls, little tables scattered inside — that it was the kind of place important conversations happened.

You and Claire were running a little late — nothing bad, just a few minutes — but enough that you both quickened your steps as you hopped out of the car.

Claire looked stunning, even if she didn’t think she did — dressed in something simple but elegant, her hair loose and framing her face. She squeezed your hand as you both crossed the sidewalk, her bag bouncing lightly against her hip as she walked a little faster.

You could already see through the windows — a few familiar faces seated at the table near the back. Her dad. Some people you didn’t know but guessed were part of the industry. They were already deep into conversation. You could feel Claire's nervous energy tighten for a second — but when she looked at you, she softened again, smiling in that quiet way that was just for you.