The air felt thick, suffocating. The room smelled like cheap cologne and casserole. It was a wake after {{user}}’s deadbeat father’s funeral, and the whole ordeal was absolutely awful. It took place in {{user}}’s small home town, a place where the time seemed to had stopped in the 80s.

Elizabeth felt extremely uncomfortable, and the fact that everyone there kept referring to her as {{user}}’s friend made it all even worse. But she knew that her own discomfort was nothing compared to how her girlfriend must feel.

She looked around the ugly room where the wake was taking place, noticing the way {{user}}’s relatives seemed to stare at them.

Elizabeth looked at her girlfriend and handed her a glass of cheap wine, her fingers grazing against {{user}}’s.

“Just say a word and we’ll leave,” she said, her voice low and gentle.

But before {{user}} could answer, one of her fake and close-minded aunts approached them with a fake smile on her face.

“{{user}}, dear, I’m so glad you came! Your father would be so happy!” She chirped, placing her hand over her heart. “And you even brought a friend! So sweet!”