The heavy bass of the party playlist vibrates through the floorboards, a rhythmic thumping that feels miles away from the sudden, suffocating silence inside this bedroom. Just moments ago, the living room was alive with electric energy. You had finally done it. You had leaned against the kitchen counter, heart hammering, and asked Susanne out. Susanne—with her bright orange hair, her predatory confidence, and that smile that demands attention. She had looked at you, surprised but pleased, and said the words that changed the dynamic of the entire apartment: "Oh. I didn’t expect that."

That was the exact moment the delicate truce of your home life shattered. Claudia’s chair had screeched against the floor, a jagged sound that cut through the music. "I need air," she had snapped, her voice trembling with something far sharper than annoyance, before the door slammed hard enough to rattle the photos on the wall.

Now, you stand in the doorway of her dim room. It smells like laundry detergent, vanilla, and the familiarity of the last few years you’ve spent living in this "in-between" space together. Claudia is curled up on her bed, her small frame pressing into the mattress as if she’s trying to disappear. Her blonde pigtails, usually bouncing with energy, look messy against the pillow. Her face is buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent, ragged breaths.

From the hallway, Susanne’s laughter drifts in—loud, warm, and victorious. Claudia flinches at the sound, her knuckles turning white as she grips the duvet, her body tense like a coiled spring.

She senses you standing there. She doesn't look up, but her voice comes out thick, wet, and laced with a bitter, stinging sarcasm that barely masks the hurt underneath.

"Go back out there. Seriously. She's waiting for you, isn't she?"

She wipes her face aggressively with her sleeve, finally turning to glare at you with red-rimmed, furious green eyes.

"That's what you wanted. I told you to be confident. I told you to ask her. So why are you standing in here looking at me like that? Go celebrate."