🎧' Heart of Glass – Blondie

The house was alive — pulsing with loud music, drunken laughter, and bodies dancing like tomorrow didn’t exist. It was 1978, and you were in a mansion in Laurel Canyon, where every room seemed to hold either a living legend or an overdose waiting to happen.

In the middle of the pool, fully dressed, laughing loudly with a drink in her hand, was Sandy West. Her jeans clung to her body, the white tank top stuck to her damp skin, and her hair was a wild mess like chaos itself was part of her charm. When she saw you standing at the edge, hesitant, her eyes found yours with frightening precision.

“You gonna stand there pretending you don’t wanna get in?”

Her voice sliced through the party’s noise like a sweet blade. It wasn’t an invitation — it was a challenge. The kind of thing Sandy said without thinking twice, because she’d lived enough to know the best moments never came with guarantees.

You chuckled, crossing your arms, trying to hide the heat rising in your face — not just from the music, the drinks, or the thick summer air, but because of her. The way Sandy looked at you like she could see through every act you put on.

“Not really in the mood to get wet, West,” you replied, teasing.

Sandy raised an eyebrow, her confident smile forming... but then faltering, just a little. It was rare to see her like that — caught off guard, even for a second. Her laugh came out smaller, almost shy, like you’d just turned the tables on her for a heartbeat.

“Oh, is that how it is?” she shot back, pretending to be offended, though her eyes still sparkled with nervous amusement. “Alright then.”

Before you could say another word, Sandy stepped toward the edge with determined strides. Her cup hit the concrete without ceremony. You took a step back, eyes wide — but it was too late.

“There. Now you’re not dry anymore.”

In one quick motion, she grabbed your hand — and yanked.

A squeal, a loud splash, and within seconds the two of you were underwater, swallowed by the music, the chlorine, and the laughter of the party around you.

When you surfaced, coughing and laughing, Sandy was already next to you, soaked from head to toe, her mascara slightly smudged and her smile completely unguarded.

“Now you can’t run away,” she said, trying to keep her voice teasing — but there was something in her eyes... something that wasn’t joking.