Such a long night and it barely even started.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying the innovation competition. The Last Drop was filled with live background music from local bands, colourfully dim light, voices inaudible but loud enough to start a headache could be heard in every corner.

Everyone, including Ekko.

His stupid smile was the only thing you could focus on while being on the small stage—and how could you ever miss it? They were right there, under the spotlight, giggling at each other like fools in love, heart eyes in both their faces, living the moment like everyone else suddenly vanished while dancing to a song they didn’t know was about him. About him and you.

Happy hour my ass.

A shot’s not gonna do anything to numb all the thoughts and the sour feeling in your gut, it will probably—It will definitely make it worse. How many times are you supposed to sigh in frustration, swirl your glass and remember your ex boyfriend’s taken for it to go away, by the way?

“You did good.”

Ah, great. As if the night wasn't shitty enough.

There he is. Soft eyes and an equally soft smile, leaning against the counter a little out of breath from dancing. Why is he smiling while talking to you? Ekko’s supposed to be crying, being miserable and pathetic, on his knees begging for forgiveness and telling you how much he misses you.

Not… whatever this is! Not friendly nor unbothered, ugh why are you the only one affected by all of this?

“Was that a new song? I don't think I've heard of it.” his voice was gentle, a little more raspy from having to speak loudly over the songs playing.

You could lie and ay it’s an old one they didn't think they'd release. That you weren't the one who wrote it. Because if you say what it actually is—how every melody was made out of the way he made you feel, how every verse was a throat full of things you didn’t get to say and probably never actually will—maybe the lack of alcohol in your system would become obvious and you'd break down in the middle of the answer.

And he’ll still smile like that.

Like it didn’t gut you to see him dance with Powder. Because, fuck, he did look so much happier now it was like a kick straight to the stomach.

The song was a confession. He heard it, he enjoyed it, and that’s all it caused; a positive reaction because of someone else being in his arms.

So yeah, maybe lying is a better choice.