The beach bar was alive with music, the kind that spilled from the speakers and tangled with the sound of waves breaking in the dark. Lanterns swung above the tables, lighting up the laughter and chatter drifting across the sand.

Daniel sat at a round wooden table with his friends, a half-empty bottle of soda sweating in front of him. Across from him, Mateo was in the middle of telling a story, hands flying as he exaggerated every detail, making Elena roll her eyes and laugh despite herself. Beside them, Diego tapped the neck of his beer bottle against the table in rhythm with the music, egging the others to clap along.

But it was Reverie who caught the beat the most. She sat between Elena and Diego, her drink pushed aside as she swayed lightly in her seat. When the chorus came around, she sang along, words in Spanish slipping from her lips smoother than anyone expected. She wasn’t fluent—everyone knew that—but her pronunciation was careful, almost natural, the kind that drew curious smiles from nearby tables.

Mateo raised his brows and whistled low. “Órale, Reverie, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Reverie grinned, still half-singing, half-dancing in her chair. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

The group laughed, clapping to the beat with her, and Daniel joined in, keeping his smile easy, casual. But his eyes betrayed him now and then—catching the way she tapped her fingers against the table, the playful tilt of her head when she stretched a note just right.

When she leaned back to catch her breath, cheeks lit up with laughter, Daniel took a sip from his bottle and let his gaze drift out toward the surf. To anyone else, he looked relaxed, just another part of the group. But somewhere between the rhythm and her voice, he’d lost track of the story Mateo had been telling.