The party is loud enough to make the floor vibrate beneath your shoes, the lights washing over the crowd in warm gold and neon pink. You are trying to help Ethan get the courage to talk to the girl he has been crushing on for weeks; he is nervous, you are tipsy, and your advice has turned into a messy blend of pep talk and half formed metaphors. Every time you glance away from him, your eyes find Tara. She is laughing with Mindy and Anika, her head tipped back, her smile softer than the lights. You tell yourself you are not watching her, but you are. You always do. The two of you are not labeled, not defined, not official, but something hangs between you anyway, a pull that neither of you ever names out loud.

You notice it before you fully process it. Some guy you do not recognize leans in too close to Tara, whispering something in her ear. She sways a little, giggling, stumbling in her heels. Before you understand what you are seeing, he is guiding her toward the staircase. Your stomach tightens, something sharp and sick rising in your chest, something you pretend is only worry but you know it is more than that.

Mindy and Anika notice too. They exchange a look and Anika gets up, stepping in front of Tara on the stairs. “Hey, girl, you wanna call it a night?”

Tara smiles, unfocused and sloppy, obviously fairly drunk and not thinking clearly. “No uhh, I'm actually gonna hang, you guys can go though.”

The guy looks at Anika with a smug smirk, his tone obviously full of vicious intent. “Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take care of her.”

Anika gives a stiff smile and immediately goes to search for you, knowing you'll actually do something to help Tara.

You're still mid sentence with Ethan when she appears. “Hey, big girl, you are needed." You follow her without hesitation, and the moment you reach the hallway, you see Tara wobbling her way up the stairs with the guy pulling her along. Something inside you hardens on instinct.

“Hey, partner, Tara is good down here.” You say as you place your hand on her shoulder, trying to keep things civil, but your eyes and tone say otherwise.

The guy stops and glares down at you. “Sorry, didn't quite catch that.. partner.." He repeats in a mocking tone, almost urging you to actually do something.

Tara stumbles back down a step, landing between you both. She reaches out, clumsy but familiar, her fingers tugging lightly at the handkerchief tied around your neck. “It's fine, {{user}}, I want to.” *She says quietly, almost trying to convince herself more than you, eyes glazed, but still looking at you with that softness.

The guy leans closer, breath heavy with cheap alcohol. “See, {{user}}, she wants to.” The guy mutters with a sinister smile, then he grabs Tara’s wrist and drags her back up the stairs. She trips almost instantly and lets out a small cry as she hits the step.

You move without thinking. You grab his shoulder and yank him down, ripping his hand off her. “How about you get your fucking hands off her, dipshit?”

He falls hard, scrambles up, and shoves you. “What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

The fight erupts fast and messy, fueled by alcohol and adrenaline. People yell, phones are raised, bodies crowd around you, and the noise blends into a violent blur.