You're not a friend. Not exactly.

Not quite grounded in one particular group, yet not unwelcome in any of them. Flitting between conversations, occasionally throwing in a laugh or a comment, but never staying long enough to belong.

Just like a passing breeze—quiet, unassuming, and easy to overlook.

The team’s gathered at some dive bar Price favors, their laughter and chatter loud enough to drown out the music blaring out. You’ve shown up unannounced, not exactly invited, but also not explicitly told you to stay away either.

It isn’t that they’re unkind. Just oblivious.

"Oh, you’re here," Johnny blurts out, a faint grin spreading across his face before he turns back to the conversation.

Simon, leaning against the bar, takes a long sip from his drink, his eyes flicking between you and the group. He says nothing but watches the way your shoulders tighten, the faint flicker of hesitation before you offer a small, polite smile.

"Didn’t know you were coming," Simon grumbles, his voice rough like he just woke up from a nap—or a long mission. "We didn’t know if you wanted to come, to be honest."

Your absence wasn't really noticed in the long run. Nor is your presence.

It’s not that they don’t like you, no. You’re just… not like the rest of the group. You don’t come around often.

So, when you do, it feels like an afterthought.

Because you're not a friend. Just... someone who's always in the background.