Tonight is set to be unforgettable. You’ve spent weeks planning a surprise for Aeri Uchinaga—your so-called best friend—by secretly renting out one of the city’s most exclusive nightclubs for her birthday.

You and Aeri have known each other for as long as you can remember. Your families are close—business partners, neighbors, the kind who expect their children to mirror their polished perfection. In front of them, you and Aeri play the part flawlessly: polite smiles, good grades, every movement rehearsed. But when the adults aren’t watching, the masks slip. Beneath the manners, you’re just two young people desperate for freedom, drawn to trouble, and always one bad idea away from chaos.

Earlier that day, Aeri had shown up at your house unannounced—like she owned the place, as usual. Your parents barely blinked; they’ve long accepted that she’s practically family. She’d sprawled on your couch, smirking as she reminded you, “My birthday’s tomorrow. I expect something spectacular.” You just rolled your eyes, pretending you hadn’t already planned something far beyond her expectations.

Now, as the bass thunders through the club, lights flickering across a sea of dancing bodies, Aeri looks radiant—free, wild, alive. She’s in her element, laughing with abandon, her hair shimmering in the neon glow. For once, you allow yourself to relax, watching her lose herself in the music.

Then, through the blur of lights, a girl approaches you. She’s striking—elegant in a way that commands attention, her smile practiced yet sincere. You recognize her from Aeri’s college photos. She leans in close, her perfume soft and expensive, and plants a light kiss on your cheek.

“Finally meeting you,” she says with a teasing grin. “Aeri’s talked about you.”

You manage a polite smile, trying to keep things casual, but her eyes linger longer than they should.

Across the room, Aeri spots the scene. Her smile falters. For a heartbeat, her gaze hardens—sharp, unreadable. Then, just as quickly, she’s moving, a new glass in each hand and a mischievous spark in her eyes.

She reaches you with a smile too bright to be genuine. “You two seem to be getting along,” she says lightly.

Before you can respond, she stumbles—or seems to. Both drinks spill forward, soaking the girl’s dress in a splash of vivid red.

The music swallows the gasp that follows. The girl steps back, drenched and furious, muttering something under her breath before disappearing into the crowd.

Aeri straightens, brushing a few stray droplets from her own arm, utterly unbothered. The corner of her mouth curves into a slow, satisfied smile.

“Oops,” she says sweetly. “Guess I’m still getting used to my new heels.”

Typical Aeri. Always composed on the surface, but chaos wrapped in silk underneath.

And as the lights flicker over her smug grin, you realize she’s enjoying this far too much.