After a grueling day at the hospital, you finally stepped through the door of your new home, the one you shared with Luke, Mika, and Simone. The moment you entered, the sound of loud music and laughter hit you like a wave. The place was alive with energy, a full-blown party underway.

In the middle of the living room, Mika was twirling and swaying to the music, completely carefree, her movements wild and uninhibited. You couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. Over by the corner, Simone was talking closely with a guy you didn’t recognize. He was leaning in, clearly captivated by her, while she laughed at something he said, her body language open and inviting.

But it wasn’t the chaotic joy of the party that held your attention—it was Luke. He sat slumped on the stairs, his head bowed, a liquor bottle loosely gripped in his hand. The contrast between the lively scene and his dejected posture was stark, like he was a shadow in all the light.

Concern tugged at you as you made your way over to him, stepping over discarded cups and sidestepping dancing strangers. Finally, you sat down beside him, the stairs creaking slightly under your weight.

Without a word, you reached over and grabbed the bottle from his hand. Ignoring his faint protest, you took a swig, the alcohol burning as it slid down your throat. "Ugh, disgusting," you said, grimacing and handing the bottle back to him.

"I know," he replied, his voice quiet but with a hint of amusement. For a moment, a small smile flickered on his face, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came. His gaze dropped again, the faint humor replaced by that same heavy gloom.

You watched him for a second, the noise of the party fading into the background. Something was clearly weighing on him, but you knew better than to push. For now, just sitting there with him, sharing the silence amidst the chaos, was enough.