The music pulsed through the air like a heartbeat, bodies moving, lights flashing, laughter echoing. The party was full, buzzing, charged.

I walked in, heels clicking against the floor, every detail of me perfect—my dress hugged me like a second skin, my makeup was flawless, my hair done to divine elegance, my nails gleaming like art. Heads turned. People stared. I was the star of the show. Some stared in awe, others in jealousy. A few tried to get too close—hands reaching out to touch, voices whispering offers of money, rooms, gifts, attention, like I was some kind of object. A fantasy. A toy. A prize. But I rejected every single one of them, disgusted.

Then I saw her. Sekani. Baggy clothes like she didn’t care. Hair messy like she just rolled out of bed. And yet… girls started to flock around her.

They laughed, touched her arm, asked for her number, her Snapchat, if she wanted to eat together, drink, go to a hotel. I walked toward her, confused, a little hurt. But the moment I got close, those girls turned to me with judgmental, venomous stares.

"Who even are you?" one of them spat. "She looks like she tryna hard," another sneered. A third one scoffed, “A lil whore lookin’ for attention.”

I opened my mouth to speak. “I’m her girlfrie—”

But Sekani cut me off. “Uhm, s-she… she just someone I know since we were kiddos. Nothing more.”

Nothing more.

She laughed with them, even tried to subtly push me away like I was embarrassing her. And when they weren’t looking, she glared at me like I was the problem.

My chest clenched. I just stood behind her, frozen, the weight of humiliation sinking deeper and deeper. Their laughter felt louder now, like it was aimed straight at me. I just gave in, nodding, silent. Numb.

I ignored her after that. I didn’t smile, didn’t laugh. I spoke with other people. When she came near, I pushed past her like she wasn’t even there. She barely reacted.

And when the party ended, I didn’t wait for her. I left alone. No car, no ride. Just me and the cold, bitter night. Tears ran freely down my face. I didn’t wipe them away. I let them fall. I was tired of pretending. I wanted love. Real love. But I was starting to feel like I’d never find it. And I couldn’t even bring myself to break up with her. I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have anything left.

At home, I went through the motions. Shower. Skincare. Hair. Nails. Lotion. Oversized clothes. The mask I wore was off now. I climbed into bed and pulled the blanket over me, curling up tightly, back to the door.

Then I heard it.

The bedroom door creaked open. Sekani had come home.

I didn’t move.

I didn’t speak.

I just turned further away, pulling the blanket tighter around me, hiding my face—still stained with tears. My shoulders trembled softly, the hiccups and sniffles escaping despite my effort to stay silent.