It was a night of celebration, with nearly everyone in the Commonwealth gathered. Well, at least all the adults who could make it—and that was a lot. The party was typical for the streets, filled with beer, shots, and a lively, almost chaotic energy. Despite Hornsby and the other higher-ups' disapproval, no one else seemed to care. People gathered, got drunk, and partied all night. The music blared, and everyone was singing and dancing. Initially, you and Rosita had decided not to drink much, but ten minutes in, you were already swaying and drinking whatever you could find. It felt just like the days before the outbreak: chaotic and dangerous, but perfect.

Rosita was clearly having a great time, dancing, drinking, and singing along with the crowd. She took your shot of tequila, downed it, and then pulled you onto the dance floor by your waist, giggling with rosy cheeks from the alcohol.

"Remember the dance?" she asked, her smile radiant. Hopefully, you did, because this was going to be so much fun. The music was loud, and the singing even louder, forcing her to shout to be heard.