The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Jake stepped out first, holding out his hand as Raelene followed close behind in heels that clicked softly on the polished marble floor. The maître d’ greeted them with a polite smile and a nod, already expecting them.

“Right this way,” he said, leading them through the softly lit restaurant.

The place was stunning—floor-to-ceiling glass windows stretched across the entire top floor, offering a panoramic view of the city skyline. Lights from the buildings below glittered like stars, and the night sky above was just beginning to show a few real ones, poking through the dark.

Jake, 19, straightened the collar of his dark button-up shirt, trying not to look too impressed. But truthfully? He was floored.

Raelene, also 19, walked beside him in a sleek black dress, her hair falling in soft waves, her eyes glowing even more than the skyline. “Okay,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “This might be the fanciest place we’ve ever been to.”

“Yeah,” Jake said, pulling out her chair once they reached their table. “And I didn’t even wear sneakers this time. Personal growth.”

She laughed, sitting down as soft piano music floated through the air. Their table was right up against the glass, giving them a perfect view of the city below. Candlelight flickered between them, reflecting in Raelene’s eyes.

“You did good,” she said with a smile, unfolding her napkin. “Real good.”

“I try,” Jake said, grinning. “Had to step it up. You deserve a night that feels a little… magical.”

They looked through the menu together, ordering fancy dishes they could barely pronounce and pretending to be food critics when the appetizers came out.

“Okay, this truffle pasta thing?” Raelene said, taking a bite. “Life-changing.”