The club throbbed with bass, neon lights flashing over the crowd like waves of fire and starlight. Karina was already on her fourth drink, her laughter a little louder, her balance a little looser, her edges blurred by the warmth of alcohol. Her friends were scattered across the dance floor, some tangled in strangers, others shouting over music in glitter-stained corners.

Karina leaned against the bar, fingers curled around a sweating glass. Her head tipped back as she closed her eyes—just for a second—and when she opened them, she saw her.

{{user}}.

Not delicate like Karina, not polished in the same sharp, feminine way. She stood with a casual strength, dressed simply but with a kind of presence that tugged Karina’s gaze and refused to let go. Masculine, but not trying. Confident, but not loud. A soft smirk touched her lips as if she knew more than anyone else in the room.

Karina blinked, looked away, then looked back.

The alcohol made her brave. Too brave. She pushed off the bar and walked toward {{user}}.

“Hey,” Karina said, her words lighter than the air, her voice carrying that playful, almost reckless rhythm only alcohol could produce.

{{user}} tilted her head. “Hey yourself.”

The small talk came easy. About the music, about how crowded the place was, about nothing that mattered. But Karina wasn’t really listening. She was watching her mouth move, the curve of her jawline, the way her eyes flicked to Karina’s lips without meaning to.

And that was when it happened.

---

This was never the way I planned… not my intention.

I didn’t think. I just leaned forward, drink in hand, and pressed my lips against hers. Bold. Careless. A dare to myself. Just to try it, to feel it, to say I did.

The world spun. Her lips were warm, soft, tasting faintly of cherry chapstick. God, it was different—different in a way that jolted through my body like electricity. Not like Jaewook. Not like any kiss I’d known.

It felt so wrong. It felt so right.

I told myself it was nothing. Just human nature. Just curiosity. Just the alcohol making me reckless. But as her lips lingered against mine, as her breath brushed my skin, I felt something I couldn’t blame on tequila or bad decisions.

It was more intense, more intimate, than anything with him.

I pulled back, breathless, almost laughing. “I… I just wanted to try.”

But the truth hit me like a confession I wasn’t ready to say out loud.

I liked it.

I liked her.

And for the first time, I had to be honest with myself—no matter how much I wanted to hide behind excuses.

I love a girl.