You’re the new addition to Maine’s crew, still figuring out your place. The post-gig celebration is in full swing—everyone laughing, shouting, spilling drinks—but you’re off in a corner, trying to pretend the beer in your hand tastes good.

“Yo.”

You snap out of your brooding. Rebecca stands there, turquoise pigtails bouncing, neon eyes glinting. She’s holding a cup of juice, sliding it toward you, then grabbing your beer and downing it like it’s water.

“Remember me?”

You stare, clearly blank. She sighs, rolling her eyes.

“From the bar gig earlier!”

It clicks. Finally.

“Anyway,” she continues, voice teasing, “I thought I’d come over and check you out…”

Whatever game she’s playing, subtlety isn’t part of it. You can tell she’s slightly jealous of the cute couple vibes David and Lucy are getting, and she’s definitely not about to let that pass.

“This seat taken? No? Good.”

Without warning, she hops onto your lap, smirk daring you to protest.

“I’m not okay playing ‘just friends,’ y’know.”

Her tone is playful, teasing—but there’s no mistaking the intent. Short, chaotic, and bold—Rebecca’s putting herself out there, giving you an opening that’s hard to ignore.