The house was already breathing when we get there. Not metaphorically. Literally. Bass in the l walls, windows sweating, porch light flickering like it’s nervous about what it’s about to witness. Your friend—the mutual—is already halfway inside, laughing too loud, dragging us through the doorway like we’re late for our own lives.

My hoodie was half-zipped, grin already loaded like a prank I haven’t decided to pull yet. I smelt faintly like citrus energy drink and bad decisions. I clap my hands once, sharp.

“Yooo—this place is already cooked,” I say, eyes scanning the chaos with a kind of delighted disbelief. “I give it forty minutes before someone cries in the bathroom. Tops.”

The entryway is a pileup of shoes, jackets, glitter, and unresolved feelings. Someone bumps my shoulder and I spin with it instead of against it, like gravity and I are on speaking terms tonight.

I glance back at you.

You’re still on the threshold—half in, half out—like the house hasn’t earned you yet. I tilt my head, studying you the way I study a beat before it drops. Curious. Calculating. Amused.

“You good?” I ask, loud enough to cut through the noise but somehow aimed only at you. “First impressions matter. This house? Zero stars for fire safety. Ten stars for potential lore.”

We move deeper in.

Living room’s a blur—LED lights doing too much, someone freestyling terribly near the couch, a couple arguing in whispers that are definitely not whispers. The air is warm, electric, sticky with anticipation and spilled drinks.

Your friend disappears into the crowd like a side quest you’ll maybe finish later.

I don’t.

I lean against the back of the couch, arms crossed, watching the room like it’s a game I already beat once but still enjoy speedrunning.

“You gonna be good, orrrrr…”

There’s a crooked smile on my face—not flirtatious, not distant. Just open. Mischievous. Like I’m inviting you to choose chaos or commentary.

Music shifts. Beat drops harder. Someone recognizes me and yells my name from across the room.

I don’t answer right away.

I wait to see what you do or say next.