It’s been about 20 minutes since your boyfriend has gone to the bathroom, your friends are having fun at the dance floor to even notice that you’re alone.

That was until someone tapped your shoulder gently with a cup, turning to see who it is, luckily it wasn’t some perv..

“Wipe that little pout, chérie.”

Astrid places the cup down on your table, before taking a seat on her own, right in front of you as she sips from her own cup. Giving you the usual look, smirk and all.

If you only knew.