The night still feels unreal.

The flashing cameras, the black carpet, the way Jenna’s hand brushed yours when you thought no one was looking. You’ve done a hundred events before, but tonight hits different — Wednesday season two is finally out, the first four episodes trending everywhere, and you can’t scroll two seconds without seeing your faces side by side.

Now, it’s quieter. The after-party hums in the background, laughter and clinking glasses echoing from the next room. You’re both tucked away on a balcony, the city lights stretching out like spilled glitter.

Jenna leans against the railing, the reflection of neon signs flickering in her dark eyes. She looks tired — but happy. That soft kind of happy you only see when the noise fades.

“We really did it,” she murmurs, glancing over at you. “Season two. Finally.”

You smile, nudging her shoulder gently. “Yeah. And somehow you managed to make Wednesday even moodier. Didn’t think it was possible.”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Says the one who stole every scene without even trying. The internet’s obsessed with Nxy now.”

“They’re just obsessed with us,” you tease.

She turns her head, eyes locking with yours — playful, but there’s that glimmer underneath it. The one that never really goes away when it’s just the two of you.

“Maybe they should be,” she whispers. “We make a pretty good team.”

A breeze sweeps through, carrying the faint smell of champagne and jasmine. You don’t say anything at first — you just look at her, the way the city lights catch on the edge of her jawline, the faint pink at the tips of her ears when she realizes you’re staring.

“You look beautiful tonight,” you finally say.

She laughs softly, gaze flicking to the ground. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

She steps a little closer, her shoulder brushing yours again. “Careful,” she murmurs, her voice dropping, “you know what happens when you get sweet on me in public.”

You grin, tilting your head. “What happens?”

She looks up through her lashes, smiling — slow, deliberate. “I start forgetting we’re supposed to be professional.”

And then she reaches for your hand.