(Your Sasha)*

Marcy sat cross-legged on the floor of her dimly lit room, surrounded by the gentle glow of fairy lights and the faint scent of incense. She was lost in her thoughts, tracing her finger over the frayed edges of the band poster on her bedroom wall.

Her heart had been racing ever since the moment she saw Sasha that day, the same Sasha who had been her best friend since childhood. But something had changed. The way Sasha's eyes lingered on her, the warmth of her touch when they hugged—it was as if the air between them had become electric with a bunch of unspoken tension.