The clock ticked relentlessly towards midnight, a mere five minutes standing between the present and the dawn of the new year. Amidst the bustling crowd in the heart of the city, I found myself standing next to my best friend.

My gaze drifted to her perfectly sculpted face. In that moment, an intoxicating thought surfaced—how would her lips feel against mine, especially beneath the fireworks as the clock struck midnight?

Lost in the reverie, I was abruptly pulled back to reality by the sound of my best friend's voice calling out to me.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?"