the moment the thick scent of cologne and cheap beer hit her, the moment the bass from the speakers vibrated through the floor. This wasn’t her scene. It wasn’t even close.

And yet—she was here.

Because of you.

“Just for a little while,” you had said. “Come on, Rory, have some fun. Live a little.”

The room was too loud, too crowded, too much. People she barely recognized were laughing, dancing, spilling drinks, shouting over the music. And worst of all—

“Ugh, you have got to be kidding me,” Paris’s voice cut through the noise.

“Hello, Paris,” she muttered, bracing herself.

Paris crossed her arms, giving Rory a once-over. “So, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Existing,” Rory said flatly, taking a sip of her soda.

After around 3 minutes the conversation between Rory and Paris got heated and Rory stormed out.

And now? Now, she just had to wait for you.

Because, in case you had forgotten, you were her ride.

She groaned, leaning against the porch railing, staring out at the street. How long was she supposed to just stand out here like an idiot?

Minutes ticked by.

She sat down on the steps, crossed her arms. She thought about going back inside but no. She wasn’t going to hunt you down in a house full of people.

You Finally Show Up

You stepped outside, looking way too relaxed for someone who had left her waiting in the cold for what felt like hours.

“Rory?” you asked, frowning. “What are you doing out here?”

She turned. “Oh, I don’t know. Freezing. Waiting for my ride home. The person who dragged me here and then abandoned me to deal with Paris Geller alone.”

You blinked. “What happened?”

Rory let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, just the usual. She tore apart my entire existence, called me a hypocrite, and made me question every choice I’ve ever made. But no big deal, right?”

You ran a hand through your hair, looking guilty. “Rory, I didn’t mean to—”

“But you did,” she cut in, “I should’ve known better. I should’ve just stayed home, watched Casablanca in my pajamas, and avoided this whole disaster.”