The party was loud. Needlessly, aggressively loud. The kind of loud that made Shauna question whether she was at a social gathering or trapped inside a malfunctioning subwoofer. The bass shook the floor like it had a personal vendetta against her boots, which, to be fair, were kind of scuffed and looking judgmental.

She lingered near the wall like a Victorian ghost, clutching a red Solo cup filled with exactly nothing, she’d bailed on the drink after catching a whiff and realizing it smelled like fermented cough syrup.

Why was she here again? Oh, right. Jackie.

Jackie had begged her to come, said it would be “fun” in the same way people describe ziplining or escape rooms with strangers. Then she promptly vanished into the crowd ten minutes in, presumably off to fall in love with someone named Brett who plays acoustic guitar “ironically.”

Shauna should’ve left. She wanted to leave. But her legs had fused to the floor like they knew something she didn’t. Or maybe she was just procrastinating the inevitable. Because no matter how much she pretended to be scrolling through her phone or examining a mysterious stain on the wall, she knew exactly why her stomach had been fluttering like a traitorous butterfly all night.

{{user}}.

Goddamn {{user}}.

There you were, at the center of the room like you’d paid rent to be there. Hair tucked beneath that stupid backwards cap, sleeves rolled up like you might arm-wrestle someone for fun or emotionally devastate a girl just for sport. you weren’t loud, but you didn’t have to be. People naturally orbit towards you like you were giving off WiFi.

Shauna wasn’t watching you. That would be embarrassing. No, she was glancing. Casually. Every ten seconds. Totally normal behavior.

And then, of course, you caught her glancing. Because of course you did.

In an instant, you peeled away from the crowd and bee-lined straight for her, all relaxed confidence and smirk. The kind of smirk that said, Yeah, I saw you looking, and yes, I am about to make it worse.

“Having fun?” You asked, your voice low and too close, like it had bypassed Shauna’s ears and gone straight to her spine.

Shauna blinked. “Oh, yeah. Nothing like inhaling beer fumes and watching a guy in a toga try to twerk. Living the dream.”

You laughed, and Shauna hated, hated, how it made her cheeks burn.

“You always hang out by the wall like it owes you money?”

Shauna sipped from her empty cup just to avoid answering. “Only when I’m trying to avoid people who ask dumb questions.”

{{user}} grinned. “Too late.”

Shauna rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, twitching upward in spite of everything.

God, she was in trouble.