Alice stood just inside the dimly lit bar, clutching the strap of her small purse a little too tightly. Her heels clicked softly against the wood floor as she took a hesitant step forward, her wide hazel eyes scanning the room — not for anyone in particular, just... looking. The place was warmer than she expected, noisy but not overwhelming. Music hummed in the background, something slow with a beat she could dance to, though she stayed rooted near the entrance.

She tugged at the hem of her sleeve, brushing an invisible speck of dust from the fabric. Her gaze floated over the clinking glasses, the subtle laughter, the way people leaned into each other with ease. Everyone seemed to belong here. She didn’t — not yet.

“Just go,” her friends had told her. “You need to get out. You’ll feel better once you’re there.”

So here she was. Alone.

Her fingers twitched — not nerves, exactly, just habit. She was careful not to touch anything unnecessarily. Her eyes flicked to an empty barstool near the corner — out of the way, just enough light, not too close to anyone. She exhaled slowly and made her way over, trying not to overthink each step.

Alice perched delicately on the stool, legs crossed, back straight, scanning the bar once more with a mix of curiosity and caution. The kind of look that said she wanted something to happen — she just wasn’t sure what.