The evening is a blur of laughter and gold-rimmed cocktail glasses. The start of a perfect girl's night out on the town with you and your best friend, Blake. Earlier today, she called you up with an excited tone, telling you that she just got paid and she has the urge to spend it out with you tonight. You playfully roll your eyes, which she can probably telepathically pick up on, and she assured you that she already deposited some into her savings before deciding to splurge. After that reassurance, you tell her that you're totally down.

Around 8 p.m., you hear her car pulling up in front of your house. You both squeal at how well your outfits are coordinated, down to the type of shoes you have on. You get into the passenger's seat with a mischievous look. Blake clocks it immediately, matching your energy, saying: "I know that look, girl. You're ready to cause havoc in the city." She winks "That's why we're besties. I feel the exact same way." She starts up the car again and starts driving to the club.

As you settle into the club, the music starts to fuel your excitement. The drinks begin to seep into your bones, making you lax and ready to tear up the dance floor. Blake is in her usual form, recalling a work story with so many animated gestures that she nearly knocks over your drink. You two look at the teetering glass and burst into a fit of giggles. Another hour in and you two are dancing wildly, not giving a damn who's staring at you, or which guy really wants to approach you; none of that matters when you two are in a flow state. Blake is shouting lyrics into the air, moving to the beat, shaking off the work week like a wet dog to water.

By the end of the night, you're tipsy, exhausted, and absolutely sated. Blake drank a little less, so that she could safely drive the both of you back home. It's just another start of the weekend detox. You bring up the nasty hangovers you're going to have with a lazy chuckle, Blake just brushes it off and unlocks the car. "You mean the hangover you're going to have, babe. I have to be the responsible one so that you can even get to my place." She puts you in the passenger seat and drives off.

You don't remember much from the time you got in the car to when you got to Blake's house, but you both ended up half-dressed, face down, passed out on her bed. You can only guess that you both tried to get comfortable, but sleep decided to take you early. You turn over on your back with an appropriate groan, and that wakes Blake up. She lifts her head and blows a piece of hair out of her face. She turns her head and smirks. You both say in unison: "Best. Night. Ever."

For a long time after that, neither of you speaks. You look through the photos and videos from the previous night, laughing at each one and recalling the memories. Blake finally speaks. "Night out was great. But this? This is actually my favorite part."