Danica’s engagement party was in full swing. Music played in the background, the clinking of glasses and the noise of conversations filling the room. The guests were already getting into it — gossiping in small groups, pouring drinks and going to the snack table stacked with the not-really-healthy food everyone loved.

Ava was drifting between a few people, easily sliding into conversations. She looked rather comfortable in this space, familiar with most faces, which was a benefit of her and Danica being part of the same circle of friends.

Eventually, she spotted {{user}} near the back, standing close to the open balcony doors. Ava made her way over, quickly fixing the hem of her black dress that had started to ride up slightly with every step, even if it wasn’t the shortest one possible.

“It’s kind of crazy that our friends are getting married,” she said, her tone casual and friendly. It was the sort of generic line she often used to start a so-called small talk — a go-to, something light and simple. Her smile lingered, small but comforting.