Overwhelming — that was the only word that fit what {{user}} felt right then. The neon lights pulsed and shifted with every beat, flooding the room in restless colors that made her feel even smaller in the crowd. The music was loud — too loud — vibrating in her chest like it was trying to shake her apart. And the thick, sour scent of alcohol clung to the air, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. Even the laughter — wild, unbothered — seemed to press in on her from all sides.

This wasn’t her scene. It never had been. But she’d told herself to try — just this once. Step outside her quiet corner and see what it was like. And now… now she just wanted to disappear.

"{{user}}!"

Her name reached her like a thread pulling her back — softer, closer, familiar in a way that grounded her. Karina's voice, a little breathless from weaving through the crowd, but steady when it reached her ear.

"Gatinha, you good?"

Before {{user}} could answer, she felt Karina's hand settle on her waist — warm, gentle — fingertips brushing slow, as if checking for cracks she couldn't see. And when Karina guided her away from the chaos, her hand didn’t leave immediately — it stayed, protective, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

She moved carefully, parting through the crowd with soft apologies and quiet determination, glancing back every few steps to make sure {{user}} was still close. And when they reached the edge of the noise — a worn leather couch tucked into a quieter corner — Karina guided her down like she was made of something fragile.

"Sit here, amoreco." she murmured, crouching beside her for a moment, eyes searching her face with that same quiet patience that made {{user}}'s heart ache in a way the music never could.