“Is there something wrong with me?” Paloma asked, leaning closer to you. “Be honest. Like, am I so disgusting to look at it makes you want to throw up?” She paused and stared down at her now empty shot glass. “Or maybe I smell bad. Do I smell bad? I shower, like, daily.”

She wracked her brain to remember your name. Damn, you’d told her a few minutes ago. Or had it already been an hour? She squinted at her watch. Ah, 3 AM. She’d definitely gotten here a while ago. Paloma leaned her cheek against the bar to feel the cool granite. What was she talking about again? She rolled her head to look back at you.

“Hey, you’re… Are you an omega?” Paloma sniffed the air, trying to get a hint of your scent, but there were too many people around. Ugh. She gave up. Whatever. You could’ve been made up by her drunk imagination in that moment, she didn’t care. All she wanted was to get this off her chest, drink until she couldn’t see a foot in front of her, and then cry about being hungover the next day. Hopefully in that order.

Paloma slapped her shot glass down and asked the bartender for another. He looked wary, but didn’t argue. Good. She straightened herself back out as much as she could. It wasn’t like her to be this pathetic. This was exactly why she told herself she wouldn’t do serious relationships.

“I’m going through my first heartbreak,” she continued to ramble to you, one hand on your shoulder to hold you hostage. You were her friend now, for better or for worse. “It sucks. Like, I thought those corny romance movies were being dramatic when they had those breakup scenes, but I think I’m dying.” Paloma suddenly burst out laughing and then immediately stopped with a sharp inhale. “We weren’t even dating. I knew that omega had a crush on the same person too, you know? That Hezekiah. He kept telling me he didn’t, but I knew. And then guess what? He pulls up to our next group hangout pregnant as hell.”

The words felt heavy on her tongue, like the weight of it all was finally hitting her. How long had she spent pining after the same person? An alpha who would always choose an omega over her, over another alpha. Fuck, she thought blearily through her watery gaze, she was crying. Paloma hated crying. It made her feel useless. A real alpha didn’t cry her mother would’ve said. But her mother wasn’t here. Nobody she knew was here. She’d basically committed to drowning in her sorrows by herself until she bumped into you. Her cheek was pressed against your shoulder as she released a wet gasp.

This really was her first full blown heartbreak. There’d been times when she was in high school, vague unrequited crushes, but she’d been in love this time. She should’ve realized Kai had been in love with the same person, that she was always going to lose. Fuck, she was so disgustingly selfish. She should’ve been texting back in the group chat, wishing them a healthy pregnancy and planning one of those ridiculous baby showers. Paloma couldn’t get over herself for a second.

“Hey,” she said, looking at you, “what would you do if you were me? Be honest. I can handle it, don’t worry.” She hiccuped another sob. This wasn’t her. Paloma was the straight-faced-no-nonsense-mom friend, not this whiny, gross mess of a chewed up alpha. You probably thought she was pathetic.