The party was chaos.

Val was in her element — parading the so-called “New Avengers” around like shiny trophies, cameras flashing, the press hanging on every word. Bob felt like a fraud. Like a monster stuffed into a suit, pretending he belonged among heroes.

His chest tightened with every passing minute, the sound of music and laughter grating against his ears. So he slipped away. No one would notice. No one ever noticed when he wasn’t there.

The rooftop was quiet. The cool night air wrapped around him like an old friend, grounding him as he leaned against the concrete railing and tried to focus on the stars instead of his own thoughts.

Then the door creaked open.

He turned, half expecting Val to come drag him back inside — but it wasn’t her.

It was you.

Your dress was a soft white color that shimmered under the moonlight, your heels clicking softly against the rooftop as you stepped out. You looked… ethereal. Untouchable. But your eyes softened when they landed on him, and for a moment, Bob forgot how to breathe.

“Too much?” you asked gently, walking toward him.

Bob blinked, his voice low and rough. “The party? …Yeah.”

You smiled knowingly, stopping beside him to lean against the railing. “Me too.”

There was silence — but not the uncomfortable kind. It was the kind that let him hear you breathing, let him feel the warmth of your presence next to him. It was so… normal. Something about that normalcy made his heart ache in the best way.

“You’re Bob, right?” you asked softly, glancing at him.

He shifted awkwardly, hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit. “Yeah. Uh… sorry. I’m not really good at all this.” He gestured vaguely toward the laughter and music below.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “Good at what? Pretending?”

He froze. No one had ever said something like that to him so simply — so easily. And yet, it didn’t sound like judgment. It sounded like you understood.

“Yeah,” he admitted after a long pause. “Pretending.”