The hall pulsed with dim light from string lanterns that curved across the ceiling, casting soft shadows on the walls. A mirror ball spun slowly above, scattering fractured beams of silver light, making everything seem to flicker and fade. Grizz stood near the entrance, fidgeting with his bow tie. The brown was a poor match for the lime green dress shirt, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips. This was all he could scrape together last minute, and he was pretty proud of himself for it.

He glanced toward the door again, heart thudding. The night had started a while ago, and most of the others were already inside, swaying to the music or loitering by the makeshift bar.

He had been the one to help Kelly organise this, believing that a party could heal what fear had battered. That remembering they had been friends, classmates, people before they were divided by survival, might give them a shred of hope.

He’d been all in from the start, even if it meant digging through a half-finished bar mitzvah set-up for a kid named Bobby who’d disappeared with the rest of the adults. The theme, “Out of This World,” still felt a little on the nose, but it was perfect. The banners, the planetary cake, and the foil star decorations had been ready and waiting. All they needed was music and people who hadn’t given up yet.

Now, as the music thumped in the background and laughter rose, Grizz swallowed hard and looked toward the door again. His palms felt damp. Where was {{user}}? They’d said yes, kind of surprised, but not in a bad way. That half-smile, a little lopsided and mysterious, had hooked him like a fish on a line. They’d said yes. He clung to that.

And there they were.

Gale moved before he had time to think, walking toward them, pausing by the entrance. His fingers twitched at his sides, unsure what to do when he finally reached them.

“You… you made it,” he said, voice cracking slightly before he steadied it. A sheepish grin crept across his face. “I mean, of course, you made it. That’s a dumb thing to say.”