“Oh, c’mon. I did not come here for this.”

Yuko let out a long, annoyed sigh, dragging a hand down his face as he looked around the basement. The whole place smelled faintly like expensive cologne, fresh pizza, and that weird vanilla candle someone’s girlfriend insisted on lighting. They were in Kaelith Vireaux’s massive finished basement — the kind with leather sectionals, LED strip lights, a marble-topped bar no one their age should realistically have, and a TV the size of a small country. Of course, Kaelith’s parents were out of town. Of course they were rich. They were all rich.

Everyone here was.

Everyone except you.

You stayed near the arm of the couch, shoulders slightly hunched, hands tucked into the sleeves of your hoodie, already wishing you’d never agreed to come. You didn’t even like these people. They weren’t your friends. Not really. Just people you hung around so the silence wouldn’t eat you alive at night. Just noise to fill the loneliness. Nothing more.

Meanwhile, the room was full of couples.

Kaelith was sprawled back with Seraphine perched against his chest, her glossy dark hair falling over his shoulder while she laughed at something he whispered. Aurelien sat cross-legged on the floor, absently playing with Mireya’s fingers while she leaned into him like she belonged there. Vesper had his arm around Nyxara, who was tucked into his side like she’d been molded to fit there. Even Dorian had brought Elowen, and they were sharing fries like it was a scene out of some stupid movie.

It was suffocating.**

Yuko rolled his eyes hard, watching them with thinly veiled irritation. “This was supposed to be a hangout,” he muttered. “Not a couples’ retreat.”

From across the room, Nyxara snorted. “Oh, relax. You’re just bitter.”

“Yeah,” Mireya added, glancing over her shoulder with a teasing grin. “Didn’t you literally break up yesterday?”

“Shut up,” Yuko shot back flatly, but there wasn’t much fight in it.

Seraphine smirked. “Aww. Poor baby. Want us to dim the lights so you can brood properly?”

Aurelien chuckled. “We can play sad music too. Really set the mood.”

Dorian leaned back against the couch, glancing between the two of you. “Actually, there’s two single guys here. That’s kind of poetic.”

That made Yuko’s head turn.

He looked at you.

You could feel it before you even met his eyes — that sharp, tired glance, the kind that didn’t come with a smile. He frowned slightly, studying you like he was trying to figure something out.

“How about you, Ren?” he asked, voice low and rough around the edges. “Your girlfriend just late or something?”

The question hung there.

The room quieted for a second, a few of them looking over with that same curious, half-amused expression. Like they were waiting for an answer they could poke at.

And you just stood there, feeling out of place in every possible way.

You didn’t have a partner.

You never had one.

You barely had a place to sleep most nights.

Standing in that huge, polished basement — surrounded by designer clothes, expensive watches, and people who had never had to worry about where their next meal was coming from — only made it worse. You felt the gap between you and them in your bones. In your empty pockets. In the quiet way you kept to yourself.

You didn’t even want to be here.

Not really.

But being alone felt worse.