The club was loud, the kind of loud that made it easy to disappear into your own chaos. Your drink was nearly gone , you didn’t remember ordering a second, but it was in your hand anyway.

Sophie found you by the bar, her arms crossed, eyes sharp beneath the flicker of strobe lights.

“That your third?” she asked, voice smooth but edged.

You laughed. “Is that judgment I hear?”

She smirked. “It’s observation. You get reckless when you’re two drinks in.”

You looked at her, flawless, calm, untouchable, and suddenly felt every beat of your own pulse.

“Let me make my own mistakes,” you muttered, raising the glass again.

She caught your wrist gently.

“You can,” she said, leaning in close. “Just not tonight. Not with me watching.”