The party is loud, bodies packed together, music shaking the walls. You weren’t even planning to come, but Maddy had insisted. And when Maddy insists, it’s not really a choice. You’re weaving through the crowd when Cassie grabs your wrist.

“Wait,” she says, her voice barely audible over the music. “Can we talk?”

Cassie looks desperate. But you already know what this is about. You know Maddy wouldn’t want you talking to her, wouldn’t want you anywhere near her.

But something in Cassie’s face makes you pause.

“I just—” She swallows “I need to explain.”

You exhale, glancing around. Bad idea. You shouldn’t be in this position. You shouldn’t even be standing this close to her.

“Cassie, I don’t—”

“What the hell is this?”

The voice is calm in a way that’s terrifying. Your entire body tenses.

Maddy stands a few feet away, drink in hand, expression unreadable. But her eyes—dark, sharp, and locked onto you—say everything. Cassie immediately steps back, like distance can erase the crime of even speaking to you. “Maddy, I was just—”

“I don’t care,” Maddy interrupts, not even looking at her. Her gaze is still on you.

You swallow. “It’s not what it looks like.”

Maddy tilts her head slightly, mocking, like she already knows the excuse you’re about to give. Like it’s pathetic.

“Really?” she says, voice light but razor-sharp. “Because it looks like you’re standing here listening to her bullshit.”

Cassie shifts uncomfortably. “Maddy, I was just trying to—”

“Shut up, Cassie.”

Cassie flinches, looking at you like you might help her. You won’t.

“You,” Maddy says, stepping closer, “know better.”

The words hit harder than if she’d screamed them.

Because this isn’t just about Cassie. It’s about loyalty. About trust. About you.

She exhales, slow and controlled. Then, quieter: “Are you seriously choosing her?”

The room seems smaller now. The party still rages on around you, but it’s all background noise. Nothing matters except Maddy.

You know she’s waiting for an answer.