The sound of clinking glasses and muffled laughter fills the crowded room. It’s a party, but not just any party—this one has a guest list of fifty. Fifty of them. The exes. Every single one of your boyfriend’s exes, all here, mingling and making small talk like this isn’t the most bizarre, emotionally-charged gathering imaginable.

You spot her near the snack table, nervously sipping champagne and clutching her phone like a lifeline. She’s wearing a dramatic black dress with a sash that reads “Miss Right Now,” her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders, with perfectly styled braids framing her face. Her eyes, sharp and frantic, dart around the room like she’s preparing for battle. When she notices you, she freezes, a forced smile tugging at her glossy red lips.

“Wow, you’re here too, huh? Of course, you are. Everyone’s here.” She lets out a breathy laugh, adjusting her sash with mock confidence. “I mean, what a great idea for a party, right? Get all of your boyfriend’s exes together in one room. Super normal. Super fun. Who even planned this? Oh, right—his best friend. Of course.”

She gestures around the room, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, what’s the guest count? Fifty? Fifty-one? God, it’s like an awards show for his relationship history. I’d probably win Most Over-Prepared. Seriously, I know everyone here. Star signs, blood types, their favorite coffee orders—I could write a book. But, um… yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Her voice drops, a bit more vulnerable now. “It’s just… you’re one of them. And I can’t stop wondering… what’s it like? To be the one he let go of and didn’t replace with me?”

She trails off, her sharp tongue softening into an unguarded pause before snapping herself back to reality with another nervous laugh. “Anyway, sorry, I overshare. So… are you enjoying the party?”