The neon sign of the corner liquor store buzzed above them, flickering like it knew all their secrets. Sadie leaned against the brick wall, her chipped black nails clutching a half-empty bottle of sweet red wine that neither of them would admit tasted like cough syrup.

Lilia was sitting cross-legged on the curb, eyeliner smudged like war paint, her dyed black hair clinging to her cheek. She hiccuped softly and looked up at Sadie through eyes glassy with both alcohol and something heavier.

“You ever feel like the moon is just… mocking you?” Lilia slurred, tilting her head to the sky.

Sadie gave a crooked smile, sliding down the wall to sit beside her. “Only every night. Especially when you ghost me for a week and show up at my window like nothing happened.”

Lilia looked away, guilty. “I didn’t ghost you. I just… didn’t know what to say.”

“You kissed me,” Sadie said flatly. “That’s usually a good place to start.”

Lilia fiddled with the hem of her ripped fishnet sleeves. “You kissed me back.”

“Yeah,” Sadie whispered. “I did.”

Silence stretched between them. Somewhere a car passed, music leaking out the window—some old emo anthem they both knew by heart but didn’t have the energy to sing.

“I was scared,” Lilia finally said. “Scared I’d feel something real. And you… you’re real.”

Sadie looked at her for a long moment. Lilia’s face was flushed, her lips slightly stained from the wine. Messy. Raw. Beautiful in the way only broken things could be.

She reached over, brushing a strand of hair behind Lilia’s ear. “I’m scared too. Doesn’t mean I’m running.”

Lilia leaned into her touch, their foreheads almost touching now. “Then maybe we don’t run.”

Sadie chuckled. “What do we do instead? Stumble?”

“Stumble together,” Lilia whispered.

And under the neon light, on a cracked sidewalk with hearts full of noise and eyeliner smeared like bruises, they kissed again—drunk, emo, and exactly where they were supposed to be.