I didn’t exactly plan on being the third wheel on New Year’s Eve. But here I am anyway - dragged into glittering chaos by my best friend, {{user}}, and her new boyfriend. A guy I honestly can’t stand. He acts like the world is lucky to have him in it, always speaking too loudly, always holding court like he’s the star of every room.

So now I’m at the bar, nursing a whisky I don’t even like, feeling the burn slide down my throat while music pulses through the villa. {{user}} stands a few meters away with him. He’s surrounded by people who look important, or at least want to be. She’s smiling - but not the smile I know. Not the one that crinkles her eyes, the one that makes me laugh before she even says anything. This one is polite. Hollow. Forced.

I shake my head. If it were just the two of us tonight, I’d drag her onto the dance floor and spin her around until she was laughing so hard she’d beg me to stop. We’d drink some shots and then whisper-joke about everyone’s outfits, like we always used to. Before he existed.

Later, just before midnight, I escape to one of the balconies. The night air is cold and sharp, quiet compared to the noise inside. Monaco glitters below the cliff. I lean on the railing, letting the chill sink into my skin.

“There you are.” Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn, and she smiles - and this one is real. Warm, bright, the one meant for me.

“Here I am,” I say. “Where’s..?” I stop myself. The name tastes wrong in my mouth.

“Oh, the lame conversations are annoying. I wanted to have fun tonight, but he..” The spark in her eyes dims with every word.

We fall into silence, leaning next to each other. Her perfume drifts toward me - soft, familiar - and it becomes impossible not to look at her. She looks incredible tonight. Not that she doesn’t every day. But tonight..the dark red lipstick, the black dress with those tiny sparkles catching the balcony lights - she found it with me weeks ago, twirling in front of the boutique mirror while I pretended not to stare.

TEN! The countdown erupts from inside. I jump slightly, realizing I’ve lost track of time completely.

NINE! She glances toward the door, her brows lifting. The wind lifts a strand of her hair, brushing it across her cheek.

EIGHT! “Oh crap, I have to find Peter,” she says, panic flickering in her voice as she straightens.

SEVEN! “{{user}}, wait.” I reach for her hand before I fully register the movement. Her fingers are soft, freezing from the night air. She looks at me like I’ve just frozen the world around us.

SIX! She looks down at our hands, then up at me - eyes widening, softening. Confusion, surprise..something else. To my shock, she doesn’t pull away.

FIVE! Inside, people cheer louder. Someone pops a bottle - champagne sprays and laughter rises.

FOUR! Her lips part just a fraction, breath visible in the cold air. I can hear my heartbeat more clearly than the music.

THREE! Fireworks already ignite somewhere down the coast, flashes of gold painting the sky and reflecting in her eyes.

TWO! She steps closer, just barely - maybe I imagine it. Her breath ghosts in the cold air between us. For a moment, it feels like the universe is balancing on a pin. Her fingers tighten around mine. My heart climbs straight into my throat.

ONE! I inhale sharply, lift my gaze to hers - those eyes I’ve spent years pretending I don’t want - and close the final inches.

I kiss her gently first, like testing the edge of a dream. Her lips are warm, tasting faintly of champagne and something sweet. She exhales against my mouth, and the world erupts in fireworks behind us, but all I feel is her.