Chapter Text
The morning had started soft.
Daniela woke first, the pale light of the city slipping through the curtains, and for a few quiet seconds she forgot everything else—Jonah, schedules, obligations. Sophia was curled against her, warm and familiar, an arm draped loosely over Daniela’s waist like it had always belonged there. It was easy. It was safe. Platonic, if anyone asked.
Sophia breathed evenly, lashes resting against her cheeks, and Daniela let herself stay still so she wouldn’t wake her. This was their normal: shared beds after long nights, tangled limbs, a closeness they never named. Best friends, Daniela always said with a laugh. Platonically clingy.
Sophia accepted that title because she had to.
When Sophia finally stirred, she pulled back first, as she always did—an invisible line snapping back into place. She smiled, easy and practiced, and the moment passed.
By noon, everything had changed.
They were gathered around the kitchen table later, half-dressed, half-awake, Megan animatedly explaining the club she’d convinced a promoter to get them into. Lara scrolled on her phone, Yoonchae listened quietly, Manon leaned back in her chair with an amused smirk. It felt loud and alive, the kind of chaos Sophia usually liked.
“I can’t come tonight,” Daniela said suddenly, almost too casually.
The room stilled.
Sophia didn’t look up at first. She focused on the rim of her glass, the faint condensation against her fingers.
“Jonah invited me to dinner,” Daniela added, softer now, like she was bracing for something.
Silence stretched. Megan’s smile faded. Lara glanced at Sophia, then away. Yoonchae shifted in her seat. Manon’s expression flickered—something knowing, something careful.
“Okay,” Megan said after a beat, the word reluctant, thin.
“Yeah, okay,” Lara echoed.
They all knew. No one ever said it out loud, but they all knew.
Sophia’s chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a ribbon around her ribs and pulled. She kept her face neutral, lips pressed together, nails digging lightly into her palm beneath the table. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Daniela had a boyfriend. Daniela loved Jonah. This was how it was supposed to be.
“I’ll go.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Every head turned.
Sophia finally looked up. Her gaze was steady, almost defiant. “I’ll go to the club.”
Megan blinked. “Soph, you don’t even—”
“I want to,” Sophia said, sharper now.
Daniela’s brows knitted together instantly. “Sophia, what—”
“I said stop.” The coldness in Sophia’s voice surprised even her. It landed between them like shattered glass.
Daniela went quiet. Hurt flashed across her face before she masked it with concern. “You don’t drink...”
“I do.” Sophia replied, standing up. “I just want to go.”
No one argued after that.
The hours dragged. Sophia got ready alone, music low, hands trembling just slightly as she pulled on a black top she’d never worn out before. She didn’t recognize herself in the mirror—eyes too sharp, smile too forced—but she didn’t look away.
When they finally piled into the car, the city was already glowing with neon and noise. Megan was buzzing again, Manon teasing her, Lara laughing. Yoonchae watched the lights pass by the window.
Sophia sat quietly, phone dark in her lap.
Daniela wasn’t there.
The club loomed ahead, bass thudding through the pavement, lights bleeding into the night. Megan hopped out first, excitement renewed, and one by one they followed, swallowed by sound and motion.
Sophia stepped inside last.
The doors closed behind them, and the music hit like a heartbeat—too loud, too fast, impossible to ignore.