Archive of Our Own ^beta

The bass hit like a punch to the sternum.

Ness had been to this club before — Berghain's younger, messier cousin tucked somewhere between Kreuzberg and a half-remembered fever dream — but it never got easier. The strobes turned everyone into fractured stop-motion animations. The air tasted like sweat and synthetic fog. Someone's drink had already baptized his left shoe.

He was holding Kaiser's jacket.

Of course he was.

"Ness!" Kaiser's voice cut through the distortion, bright and sharp as broken glass. He turned, platinum hair and flashes of electric blue catching the light like a halo designed by someone who'd never been to church. "Stop looking like someone's holding you hostage. We're supposed to be having fun."

Ness attempted what he hoped was a smile and not a grimace. "I am. This is my fun face."

"Christ." Kaiser laughed, already turning toward a girl with silver eyeliner and a dress that looked structurally unsound. "Just — don't lose the jacket. It's Valentino."

And then he was gone, swallowed by the crowd, and Ness was alone with a designer jacket worth more than his rent and the growing suspicion that he'd made a terrible mistake agreeing to come out tonight.

He should leave. He could leave. He could just—

That's when he saw her.

She was dancing near the DJ booth, arms above her head, moving like the music was something she'd invented and was generously sharing with the rest of them. Glitter covered her collarbones, her cheeks, probably her entire body for all he knew. Her dress was the color of a bruise — deep purple bleeding into blue — and she was laughing at something, head thrown back, throat exposed to the stuttering lights.

She was also about to get absolutely demolished by a guy carrying four drinks.

Ness's heart jumped into his throat. The guy was stumbling, clearly already three sheets to the wind, and he was on a collision course with her and she wasn't even looking and—

She spun.

A perfect, thoughtless rotation that put her exactly one inch out of impact range. The guy careened past, sloshing beer onto someone else entirely, and she didn't even break rhythm. Just kept dancing, kept laughing, completely oblivious to the disaster she'd narrowly avoided.

Ness exhaled. Okay. Okay, that was just luck. Probably.

He tried to look away. Tried to scan the crowd for Kaiser's telltale shock of platinum hair. Tried to remember that he was supposed to be the loyal wingman, the supportive friend, the guy who definitely didn't get distracted by random girls at clubs.

His eyes dragged back to her anyway.

She was moving through the crowd now, weaving between bodies with the casual confidence of someone who'd never questioned whether she belonged somewhere. She reached the bar — or what passed for a bar in this place, really just a long metal counter manned by a bartender with facial piercings that could set off a metal detector from across the room.

Ness watched her lean over, say something that made the bartender grin, then turn with two shots balanced in her hands.

She was walking back toward the dance floor.

She was absolutely, definitely going to trip over that guy passed out near the speaker.

Ness's entire body tensed. Should he— could he— would it be weird if he just—

She stepped over the unconscious clubber without looking down, like she'd known he was there the whole time, and handed one of the shots to a girl with blue hair who looked like she was about to cry.

The blue-haired girl took it, knocked it back, and immediately looked less like she was about to cry. Glitter-girl wrapped an arm around her, said something that made her laugh, and then they were both dancing, and Ness was staring like an idiot with a designer jacket draped over his arm.

"You good, man?"

Ness jumped. A guy with gauges the size of bottle caps was looking at him with mild concern.

"Yeah. Yes. Fine. Just... holding a jacket."

The guy glanced at the Valentino, then at Ness's face, then nodded slowly. "Right. Cool. Stay hydrated."

"I will. Thank you. I'm very hydrated."

The guy left. Ness wanted to dissolve into the floor.

He needed to find Kaiser. That was the plan. Find Kaiser, return the jacket, fulfill his duties as the world's most anxious hype man, and then maybe go home and think about his life choices.

He pushed into the crowd, trying to navigate the sea of bodies without actually touching anyone, which was statistically impossible but he was trying his best. Someone elbowed him in the ribs. Someone else stepped on his already-baptized shoe. The music shifted into something with more bass and less melody, and Ness felt it rearrange his internal organs.

There — Kaiser's blonde hair, near the back corner, surrounded by the usual constellation of interested parties.

Ness started making his way over, clutching the jacket like a security blanket, and that's when someone crashed into him from the left.

Not hard. Not violently. Just... suddenly there, in his space, stumbling slightly, and his hands came up on instinct to steady whoever it was and—

Glitter.

So much glitter.

"Oh shit, sorry baby!" Her voice was bright, warm, and completely unapologetic. She steadied herself with one hand on his chest — his actual chest, he could feel the heat of her palm through his shirt — and grinned up at him. "Didn't see you there."

Up close, she was devastating. Skin sheened with sweat and that omnipresent glitter, eyes lined with something shimmery, lips curved in a smile that suggested she'd never had a bad day in her life or had decided to simply ignore them all.

"It's— no, it's fine, I'm—" Ness's brain was buffering. "There's a lot of people. Statistically speaking. Collisions are inevitable."

Oh god. Why was he like this.

But she just laughed, bright and unrestrained. "Statistically speaking," she repeated, delighted. "I like that. You're sweet."

She patted his chest twice, like he was a very good dog, and then she was moving again, slipping back into the crowd, and Ness stood there like an idiot trying to remember how breathing worked.

His chest tingled where she'd touched him.

This was fine. This was normal. People touched people in clubs. It didn't mean anything. He needed to focus. Kaiser. Jacket. Wingman duties.

Right.

He finally reached Kaiser, who was in the middle of what appeared to be a very animated conversation with three people at once. When he saw Ness, he lit up.

"There he is! Ness, tell them about the goal from last week. The one with the—" He made a gesture that could have meant anything.

"The... curved shot?"

"Yes! The curved shot! Poetry in motion, wasn't it, Ness?"

"It was very curved," Ness confirmed, and hated himself.

One of the girls — the one with silver eyeliner from earlier — giggled. "You guys are cute. Are you, like, together?"

"God, no," Kaiser said, at the same time Ness said, "He's not interested in me," and then they looked at each other and Kaiser's eyebrow did something complicated.

"Ness is my wingman," Kaiser explained, slinging an arm around Ness's shoulders. "My loyal companion. My golden retriever in human form."

"Woof," Ness said flatly, because if he was going to be humiliated he might as well commit.

Kaiser laughed and ruffled his hair, which Ness had spent fifteen minutes trying to make look intentionally messy rather than accidentally disaster. "See? Adorable. Anyway, Ness, I'm good here. You can—" He waved vaguely. "Mingle. Have fun. Try dancing."

"I don't really—"

"Ness. Buddy. When was the last time you did something for yourself?"

This morning, Ness thought. I had coffee. It was very nice coffee.

"Go," Kaiser insisted, taking the jacket from Ness's arms. "Be free. Be wild. Be literally anything other than my coat rack."

And then he turned back to his audience, and Ness was dismissed.

Fine.

He could... mingle. He could do that. He was a professional athlete, for god's sake. He talked to people all the time. Granted, most of those people were his teammates and the conversations were about football, but still. Communication skills. He had them.

Probably.

He drifted toward the bar, ordered a beer he had no intention of drinking, and tried to look like someone who came to clubs regularly and enjoyed it.

"You're doing it wrong."

Ness turned. Glitter-girl was next to him, leaning against the bar with her elbow, chin propped on her hand, looking at him like he was a particularly interesting puzzle.

"Doing... what wrong?"

"The whole—" She gestured at him, head to toe. "—vibe. You're standing like you're waiting for a bus. This is supposed to be fun."

"I am having fun."

"Liar." She grinned. "You look like you're mentally calculating the square footage of the emergency exits."

Ness had, in fact, clocked all three exits within thirty seconds of entering. "Fire safety is important."

"Oh my god, you're serious." She laughed — that same bright, unrestrained sound that seemed to carve out space in the chaos. "Okay, okay. What's your name, fire safety guy?"

"Ness."

"Ness," she repeated, testing it out. "Like the Loch Ness Monster?"

"More like... just Ness."

"Mysterious. I like it." She stuck out her hand, glitter transferring immediately to his palm when he shook it. "I'm—"

And she told him, the name half-swallowed by a sudden swell in the music, and he didn't quite catch it but he was too awkward to ask her to repeat it and now they were shaking hands and her skin was warm and soft and he was definitely holding on for too long.

He dropped her hand. She didn't seem to notice.

"So, Ness. Who are you here with? Wait—" Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh shit, are you with that hot blonde guy? The one who looks like he was grown in a lab specifically to sell cologne?"

"Kaiser. Yeah. He's... we play football together."

"Right, right. I thought I recognized him. He comes here sometimes. Always has an entourage." She tilted her head, studying Ness with unnerving focus. "But you don't seem like the entourage type."

"I'm more of a... supportive background presence."

"A hype man."

"Exactly."

"That's bullshit," she said cheerfully. "You seem way too interesting to be someone's background."

Ness's brain short-circuited. "I— what?"

But she was already turning, grabbing two shots from the bartender that appeared without her even ordering them. She pressed one into Ness's hand.

"Come on. You need to loosen up."

"I'm actually pretty loose. This is me. Loose."

"Ness. Baby. You're holding that shot like it's a live grenade."

She wasn't wrong. He looked down at the small glass in his hand, then at her expectant face, and made a decision that his future self would probably regret.

They drank.

The alcohol hit his stomach like battery acid, and he tried very hard not to let his face show it. She slammed her glass down, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and grinned.

"There we go! See? You're practically feral now."

"I feel very feral," Ness lied.

"Good. Now we dance."

"Oh, no. No, I don't—"

But she was already grabbing his hand, pulling him back toward the dance floor, and Ness was moving because apparently his body had decided to mutiny against his brain. The crowd swallowed them. The lights strobed. The bass rattled his ribcage.

She started dancing, and Ness stood there like a haunted Victorian lamppost, arms at his sides, deeply aware of every inch of his body and how none of it knew what to do.

"You're thinking too hard!" she shouted over the music.

"I don't know how to think less hard!"

She laughed, grabbed his hands, placed them on her waist — which, oh god, oh no — and started moving in a way that suggested he should also be moving.

Ness tried. He really did. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in what might generously be called rhythm. She was patient, adjusting her movements to match his awkward swaying, and the whole time she was smiling like this was the most fun she'd had all night.

Why was she smiling at him like that?

He should be looking at Kaiser. He should be making sure Kaiser was okay, that he didn't need anything, that—

Someone bumped into her from behind, hard enough that she stumbled forward into Ness's chest. His arms came up automatically, catching her, and for a moment they were pressed together, her glitter transferring onto his black shirt, her breath warm against his collarbone.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "Some people have no spatial awareness."

"It's fine. Are you— did you—"

She pulled back, still in his arms, and looked up at him. "You're sweet, you know that? Like, genuinely sweet. It's refreshing."

Ness's mouth was dry. "I'm really not that—"

"You are." She booped his nose. She actually booped his nose, like he was a puppy. "Okay, I need water. Don't move."

And then she was gone, slipping through the crowd with that same impossible grace, and Ness stood there, alone in the middle of the dance floor, trying to remember what his life was like before tonight.

He should find Kaiser.

He should definitely, absolutely find Kaiser and make sure he was—

But his eyes were tracking her instead, watching as she navigated through the chaos. A drunk guy lurched into her path and she sidestepped without looking, her drink held high. Someone's backpack swung around and she ducked under it with the timing of someone who'd done this a thousand times. She stopped to compliment someone's shoes, helped a girl find her friend, and acquired two bottles of water from somewhere.

She was coming back.

Toward him.

With water.

For him.

Ness's heart was doing something complicated and medical in his chest.

She handed him the bottle, already half-empty from her own drinking. "Here. Hydration is important."

"Thanks." He took it, their fingers brushing. More glitter transfer. He was going to look like a disco ball by the end of the night.

They stood there, in the middle of the dance floor, drinking water like it was a perfectly normal thing to do, while around them people lost their minds to industrial techno.

"So," she said, wiping her mouth. "Do you actually like it here? Or is Kaiser making you come?"

"I— how did you—"

"You have that look. Like a dog that wants to go home but is too loyal to say anything." She said it kindly, without judgment. "It's okay. Not everyone's built for this."

"I don't mind it," Ness said, which was a lie, and then, more honestly: "I like watching people. The way they move. The way they... I don't know. Let go."

"But you don't let go."

"I don't really know how."

She studied him for a long moment, head tilted, eyes crinkled and considering. Then she smiled — softer this time, less wild. "That's okay. You don't have to. Just... enjoy it your way."

Something in Ness's chest unclenched. He smiled back, small but real.

"I'm going to go check on my friends," she said. "But hey—" She reached out, straightened his collar, which had gotten askew somehow. Her fingers lingered on the fabric. "—don't be a stranger, okay? I like talking to you."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Ness. I do."

And then she was gone again, absorbed into the crowd, and Ness stood there with an empty water bottle and the distinct feeling that something had just shifted in his understanding of the universe.

He should care about Kaiser. He should be focused on Kaiser. That was the whole point, wasn't it? Loyalty. Support. Being the golden retriever.

But his eyes kept searching for glitter in the strobe lights.

An hour passed. Maybe two. Time moved strangely here, measured in bass drops and the slow accumulation of glitter on Ness's shirt.

He'd lost track of her for a while — got distracted helping Kaiser fend off an overly aggressive promoter — but now he spotted her again, and his stomach dropped.

She was with Kaiser.

Of course she was.

They were near the VIP section (which wasn't really VIP, just a slightly elevated platform with a velvet rope that was purely decorative). She was laughing at something Kaiser said, head thrown back, and Kaiser had that look on his face. The one that meant he was performing, charming, being the version of himself that made people fall a little bit in love with him.

Ness should walk away. Should give them space. Should—

Kaiser caught his eye and waved him over.

Fuck.

Ness approached, clutching his beer like a shield.

"There he is!" Kaiser announced, throwing an arm around Ness's shoulders the second he was in range. "I was just telling—" He paused, looked at glitter-girl. "Sorry, what was your name again?"

She told him, laughing, not offended. Ness still didn't catch it over the music.

"Right, right. I was just telling her about that goal you set up for me last week. The absolutely perfect pass." Kaiser squeezed Ness's shoulder. "This one's got a gift. Best midfielder in the league and he acts like he's lucky to be here."

"That's because he is lucky," Ness said automatically, and immediately regretted it when he saw her face shift — something considering, almost sad, passing through her expression.

But Kaiser just laughed. "See? Humble to a fault. It's actually pathetic."

He said it fondly. He probably meant it fondly. But Ness felt the words land anyway, heavy and familiar.

Glitter-girl's eyes were on Ness, unreadable in the strobing lights.

"So you two are, like, really close then?" she asked.

"Best friends," Kaiser said easily. "Aren't we, Ness?"

"Yeah," Ness agreed, because what else could he say?

"That's sweet." She was still looking at Ness. "Must be nice, having someone that loyal."

Kaiser grinned. "It has its perks. Ness, tell her about the time you—"

"Actually," a voice interrupted, "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Silver-eyeliner girl had materialized, pressing herself against Kaiser's other side. She shot glitter-girl a look that was pure territorial assessment.

Kaiser, to his credit, didn't miss a beat. "Have you? Well, here I am." He released Ness, turning his full attention to silver-eyeliner. "Ness, can you—"

"Get you a drink. Yeah. I know."

"You're the best." Kaiser was already leading silver-eyeliner away, leaving Ness and glitter-girl standing there in the awkward wake of his exit.

She watched Kaiser go, a small smile on her face. "He's a lot."

"That's... one way to put it."

"But you love him anyway."

It wasn't a question. Ness felt suddenly exposed, like she'd seen something he'd tried very hard to keep hidden.

"He's my best friend," he said instead of answering.

"Right." Something in her tone made it sound like she didn't quite believe him. Or maybe believed him too much. "Well, he seems nice. Bit full of himself, but—" She shrugged. "Aren't they all?"

"Aren't who all?"

"Guys who look like that. Move through the world like it was made for them." She said it without bitterness, just observation. "Must be exhausting, being that pretty."

Ness thought about arguing, about defending Kaiser, but he was tired and the music was loud and she was looking at him with those knowing eyes.

"You're probably right," he admitted.

She smiled, and it felt like winning something. "Come on. I need air. You look like you do too."

She didn't wait for an answer, just started moving toward the back exit, and Ness followed because apparently that's what he did now. Followed bright, glittering girls who paid attention to Kaiser and probably only talked to Ness out of politeness.

Outside, the air was sharp and cool. A few people were scattered around, smoking, making out, having the kinds of intense conversations that only happened at 2 AM outside clubs.

She leaned against the brick wall, fishing a cigarette out of some hidden pocket in her dress. "Want one?"

"I don't smoke."

"Course you don't." She lit up, exhaled a stream of smoke that the wind immediately scattered. "You seem like the type who's never done anything bad in his life."

"I've done bad things."

"Name one."

Ness thought about it. "I once told a referee to fuck off."

She laughed so hard she choked on her smoke. "Oh my god. You're serious."

"He made a terrible call!"

"I'm sure he did." She was still grinning. "You're something else, you know that, Ness?"

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"I haven't decided yet."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment. Ness watched her smoke, watched the way the ember glowed in the darkness, watched the smoke curl from her lips like secrets.

"Can I ask you something?" she said finally.

"Okay."

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?"

Ness blinked. "Like what?"

"Like you're..." She waved her cigarette vaguely. "I don't know. Less than him. The humble one. The pathetic one. Even if he's joking, I just—" She stopped, shook her head. "Sorry. Not my business."

"It's fine. And he doesn't mean it. That's just... how we are."

"Mm." She took another drag. "If you say so."

"You don't believe me."

"I believe that you believe it." She looked at him, really looked at him, and Ness felt pinned by her gaze. "I just think you're way too comfortable being someone's second choice; you deserve better than being his punchline. "

"I'm not—" Ness started, then stopped. Because wasn't he? Wasn't that exactly what he was? The loyal sidekick, the golden retriever, the guy who held jackets and laughed at his own expense and never, ever complained.

"Forget I said anything." She stubbed out her cigarette. "I'm drunk and I don't know you well enough to be saying shit like this."

"No, you're... you might be right."

She bumped her shoulder against his. "For what it's worth, I think you're more interesting than him."

Ness's laugh came out bitter. "You don't have to be nice."

"I'm not being nice. I'm being honest." She turned to face him fully. "He's hot, sure. But he's also exactly what I expected. You, though..." She poked his chest, right over his heart. "You're unexpected. And I like unexpected."

Ness's heart was doing that complicated thing again. "You're drunk."

"Little bit. Doesn't make it less true."

She was standing close now. Close enough that Ness could see the individual flecks of glitter on her cheekbones, could smell her perfume under the cigarette smoke — something sweet and warm that made him think of summer nights he'd never actually had.

"I should..." He gestured vaguely toward the club. "Kaiser might need—"

"Right. Yeah." She stepped back, and Ness immediately missed her warmth. "Can't keep the star waiting."

There was an edge to her voice now, something sharp and disappointed, and Ness wanted to explain that it wasn't like that, except it was exactly like that, and they both knew it.

"I'll see you inside?" he offered weakly.

"Maybe." She was already walking toward the door. "I think I'm gonna head out soon anyway."

"Oh. Okay."

She paused, looked back at him. "Next Friday, yeah? I'm here every Friday."

"I don't know if I'll—"

"I'm not inviting Kaiser," she said, and there was something fierce in her voice now. "I'm inviting you, Ness. Just you."

And then she was gone, back into the club, leaving Ness standing alone in the alley trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

When Ness went back inside, he found Kaiser exactly where he'd left him, now with silver-eyeliner girl practically in his lap. He looked happy. Successful. Like everything was going exactly according to plan.

Ness made himself useful, as always. Got drinks. Held jackets. Laughed at jokes. Played his part.

But his eyes kept searching the crowd for glitter in the strobe lights.

He spotted her a few more times over the next hour. Each time, she was doing something that should have resulted in disaster:

Dancing dangerously close to a spilled drink — she pirouetted around it without looking.

Walking directly between two guys who were clearly about to start a fight — they just... stopped, parting for her like water.

Standing in the exact spot where someone was about to aggressively vomit — she moved three seconds before it happened.

Nearly getting hit by a falling speaker that had been poorly secured — she'd already stepped aside.

It was witchcraft. It had to be. No one was that lucky, that aware, that impossibly in tune with chaos.

Except she wasn't even paying attention. She was just... existing, dancing, living in the space like she'd memorized every molecule of air.

And Ness couldn't stop watching.

At 3 AM, Kaiser found the girl he was leaving with — not silver-eyeliner, someone new, tall with legs for days — and sent Ness to get his jacket from coat check.

Ness went, dutiful as always, and that's when he saw her.

She was sitting on a bench near the entrance, helping a very drunk girl get her shoes back on.

He was near the coat check — Kaiser had found someone he wanted to leave with and had asked Ness to grab his things — when he saw her again. She was sitting on a bench near the entrance, helping a very drunk girl get her shoes back on.

"Left foot, baby," she was saying, patient and gentle. "That's the left one. Yeah, that's it."

The drunk girl mumbled something incoherent. Glitter-girl just smiled, tied the shoes, and waved over the girl's friends.

"Make sure she gets home safe," she told them. "And give her water. So much water."

The friends nodded, gathered their drunk companion, and disappeared into the night.

Ness approached slowly, Kaiser's jacket over his arm.

She looked up, saw him, and her whole face brightened. "Ness! You survived!"

"Barely."

She patted the bench next to her. "Sit. Your friend left, right?"

"How did you—"

"Saw him leave with that tall girl. The one with those legs, and I mean LEGS." She grinned. "He works fast."

Ness sat, careful to leave space between them. "He usually does."

"And you're okay with that? Being ditched?"

"I'm used to it."

She hummed, thoughtful, but didn't push it. Instead she said, "He's something else, your friend."

Of course. Of course that's what this was about.

"Yeah," Ness said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "He usually is."

"I mean, he's definitely charming. I can see why he has his pick." She was being careful now, diplomatic, and Ness recognized the tone. It was the same one people used when they wanted information about Kaiser. When they were trying to figure out if he was single, if he was interested, if they had a chance.

"He left with someone else," Ness pointed out, hating how bitter he sounded.

She glanced at him, surprised. "I know. I saw."

"So..."

"So... what?"

"So why are you asking about him?"

Now she looked genuinely confused. "I'm not? I was just making conversation."

"Right. Sure."

"Ness." She shifted to face him fully. "Do you think— wait, do you think I'm interested in Kaiser?"

The laugh that escaped him was hollow. "Aren't you? Everyone is."

"I'm not everyone."

"You were laughing at his jokes. Dancing near him. You seemed—"

"I laugh at everyone's jokes when I'm drunk," she interrupted. "And I was dancing near him because that's where the best speakers are." She paused. "Also, he's kind of a dick."

Ness's brain stuttered. "What?"

"A dick. You know—" She made a vague gesture. "That whole 'pathetic' thing? Even as a joke, it was..." She shook her head. "I don't know. Rubbed me the wrong way."

"He didn't mean it."

"Maybe. But you still flinched."

Had he? Ness didn't remember flinching. But she'd noticed. She'd been paying attention.

To him.

"Look," she said, softer now. "I'm not interested in your friend. He's pretty, sure, but so is a Ferrari and I don't want to drive one of those either." She bumped her shoulder against his. "I'm here talking to you, aren't I?"

"Because Kaiser left."

"No, you idiot. Because I want to."

Ness stared at her. She stared back, exasperated and fond in equal measure.

"You really don't get it, do you?" she said.

They sat in silence for a moment. The bass was muffled here, almost gentle. People stumbled past, laughing, crying, living their messy lives.

"Can I ask you something?" Ness said finally.

"Shoot."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Move like that. Like you know exactly where everything is. You almost got hit, like, fifteen times tonight and you dodged every single thing without looking."

She laughed, surprised. "You were watching?"

"I was... concerned. For your safety."

"That's sweet." She bumped her shoulder against his. "You want to know the secret?"

"Please."

She leaned in, like she was sharing classified information. "I've been coming here for three years. I know this place better than I know my own apartment. Every sticky spot on the floor, every corner where fights start, every person who can't hold their liquor." She pulled back, grinning. "It's not magic, Ness. It's just... practice. Attention. Giving a shit."

"Oh."

"Disappointed?"

"No. I just thought maybe you were psychic."

She threw her head back and laughed, loud and bright, and Ness felt something warm and dangerous bloom in his chest.

"Come on," she said, standing and offering her hand. "Let me walk you out. You look like you need fresh air."

He took her hand. The glitter was never coming off.

Outside, the Berlin night was cool and sharp after the humid press of the club. Ness breathed in deep, feeling his ears ring in the sudden relative quiet.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much."

She smiled, squeezed his hand once, then let go. "You should come back next week, you might finally get it then. I'm always here Fridays."

"Get what?"

"That I've been trying to talk to you all night. That I gave you my water. That I danced with you even though you move like a broken robot—"

"Hey—"

"—and that I'm sitting here at three in the morning covered in glitter and cigarette smoke when I could be literally anywhere else." She poked his chest. "I'm here because of you, Ness. Not Kaiser. You."

The words didn't make sense. They couldn't make sense. People didn't choose Ness over Kaiser. That wasn't how the world worked.

"But you were talking to him," Ness said weakly. "You were laughing—"

"I was being polite! He came up to me!" She groaned, dropping her head back against the wall. "Oh my god, you're really going to make me spell this out, aren't you?"

"Spell what out?"

She looked at him, exasperated. "I think you're cute, Ness. I think you're sweet and funny and interesting, and I've been trying to get your attention all night but you keep assuming I want Kaiser when I very much do not want Kaiser." She took a breath. "I want to get to know you. Just you. Is that clear enough?"

Ness's mouth was dry. His heart was doing something arrhythmic and possibly medical. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"I thought—"

"I know what you thought. You thought wrong." She stood up, brushing off her dress. "Now, I'm going home because it's late and I'm tired and I've had to say way too many embarrassing things tonight." She held out her hand. "Walk me to the train?"

Ness took her hand. The glitter was definitely never coming off.

They stood, and she laced her fingers through his, casual and easy like they'd done this a hundred times before.

"For the record," she said as they started walking, "your friend is way too into himself for my taste. I like guys who are a little awkward. A little sweet." She squeezed his hand. "A little obsessed with fire safety."

Ness felt his face heat. "I hate you."

"No you don't."

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

The Bastard München training facility was supposed to be locked after midnight.

Ness had the code anyway — everyone did, technically, though most people had the good sense not to use it at 3:47 AM while covered in glitter and smelling like a distillery had a baby with a smoke machine.

He punched in the numbers, wincing at each beep that seemed impossibly loud in the silent building. The door clicked open. Behind him, Kaiser was humming something off-key, swaying slightly on his feet.

"Shhh," Ness hissed.

"I'm not saying anything."

"You're humming."

"That's not saying."

"Kaiser—"

"You're so uptight, Ness. We're fine. Everyone's asleep. Unless—" Kaiser's eyes lit up with tipsy mischief. "Unless you're scared of getting caught. Are you scared, Ness?"

"I'm being responsible."

"Boring."

They made it inside. Ness exhaled, tension leaving his shoulders. The facility was dark, quiet, smelling faintly of cleaning products and the perpetual ghost of athletic tape. Safe.

He headed for the locker room, intending to grab his things and leave, but his legs felt heavy and his head was starting to throb in that pre-hangover way that promised suffering. Maybe he'd just sit for a minute. Just a minute.

He sank onto one of the benches, letting his head fall back against the lockers with a soft thunk.

Just a minute.

He closed his eyes.

"NESS."

Ness jolted so hard he nearly fell off the bench. His heart was trying to escape through his ribcage. Kaiser was suddenly there, all up in his space, and then — oh god — collapsing directly into Ness's lap like a very drunk, very expensive marionette whose strings had been cut.

"Jesus Christ—"

"Caught you," Kaiser mumbled into Ness's stomach.

"Kaiser, what the fuck—"

"You left me." Kaiser's voice was muffled by Ness's shirt. "In the hallway. All alone."

"You were right behind me!"

"Was I?" Kaiser shifted, getting comfortable, and Ness's brain was short-circuiting because Kaiser was in his lap, Kaiser's weight was solid and warm and—

And there were lipstick marks on Kaiser's neck.

Red. Bright and obvious against his pale skin.

Ness stared at them, something cold settling in his chest. Right. The girl with the legs. The one Kaiser had left with. The one who wasn't Ness, would never be Ness, because Ness was the golden retriever, the sidekick, the—

"I think you're way too comfortable being someone's second choice."

Her voice, clear in his memory.

Ness looked down at Kaiser — beautiful, drunk, marked by someone else — and waited to feel something. The usual devotion, the ache, the desperate want that had lived in his chest for so long he'd forgotten what it felt like to breathe without it.

It didn't come.

Or it did, but quieter. Distant. Like an echo of something that used to matter more.

Instead, he found himself thinking about glitter. About a smile in strobe lights. About warm hands and "I'm here because of you."

"Ness," Kaiser said, and there was something almost petulant in his voice. "You're not paying attention to me."

"I am."

"No you're not. You're thinking about something else. I can tell." Kaiser tilted his head back, looking up at Ness with unfocused blue eyes. "What are you thinking about?"

Her.

"Nothing," Ness said.

"Liar." Kaiser reached up, poked Ness's cheek, and his finger came away sparkling. He blinked at it, confused, then looked at Ness with growing suspicion. "Why are you covered in glitter?"

"I'm not covered—"

"Ness. You look like a craft store exploded on you." Kaiser sat up — or tried to, wobbled, gave up and stayed draped across Ness's lap. "Where did all this glitter come from?"

Ness felt his face heat. "A girl?"

Kaiser's eyebrows shot up. Then he started laughing — bright and loud and completely delighted. "A GIRL? Ness, you dog! You actually talked to a girl?"

"I talk to girls all the time—"

"No, you stand near girls while I talk to them. That's different." Kaiser was grinning now, all teeth. "Tell me everything. Was she pretty? Did you get her number? Did you—" His eyes widened. "Oh my god, did you fuck her?"

"What? No! We just— we talked. And danced. Sort of."

"Sort of danced?"

"I don't dance. You know I don't dance."

"But you danced with her." Kaiser's grin was shit-eating now. "Ness, are you having the feels?"

"The feels?"

"You know. Emotions. About a girl. A specific girl." Kaiser poked him again, more glitter transferring. "Who is she? Do I know her?"

Ness thought about lying. But Kaiser was drunk and would forget half of this conversation anyway, and there was something almost safe about confessing to someone who wouldn't remember.

"She was at the club. The one with the—" Ness gestured vaguely at his own face. "Glitter. Everywhere."

Kaiser squinted, thinking. Then his expression cleared. "Oh. OH. Purple dress girl?"

"You know her?"

"I mean, I've seen her around. She's there a lot. Fridays, mostly." Kaiser made a thoughtful noise. "Talks to everyone. Very friendly. Kind of loud?"

"She's not loud, she's—"

"Ness." Kaiser was staring at him now, something almost sober creeping into his expression. "You like her."

"I don't— I barely know her—"

"You're defending her volume level. That's basically a marriage proposal for you."

Ness wanted to argue, but Kaiser was already moving on, pulling himself upright with more grace than he had any right to possess while this drunk.

"Christ, Ness," he said, brushing invisible dust off his jeans. "She was nice to you and now you're, what, in love?"

The words stung more than they should have.

"She was nice about it," Ness said quietly.

Kaiser's expression softened slightly. "They're always nice. Don't read into it, yeah? Club girls are— they're friendly. It's what they do. Doesn't mean anything."

Ness thought about the way she'd held his hand. The way she'd said "I'm inviting you. Just you."

"Yeah," he said. "Probably."

Kaiser clapped him on the shoulder, swaying slightly. "Come on. Let's get out of here before someone actually catches us."

They gathered their things, moved through the dark building like ghosts. Outside, the Berlin morning was grey and cold, the kind of pre-dawn that felt more like an ending than a beginning.

"You should come next Friday," Ness said suddenly.

Kaiser looked at him. "To the club?"

"Yeah."

"Why? Got your eye on glitter girl again?"

Ness's silence was answer enough.

Kaiser sighed, but he was smiling. "Sure. Why not. Could be fun watching you try to talk to her sober."

"I wasn't drunk."

"Ness, you had like four drinks."

"That's not— I was barely—"

"You're a lightweight and we both know it." Kaiser kicked a pebble, and Ness watched it skip along the pavement. "But sure. Next Friday. I'll wingman for you for once."

Something about that felt wrong, but Ness couldn't articulate why. He just nodded, touched his cheek where he could still feel the ghost of glitter, and thought about magic.

The week passed in a blur of training and film study and lying awake at night thinking about things he probably shouldn't.

By Thursday, Ness had convinced himself it was a bad idea. By Friday afternoon, he'd changed his mind six times. By Friday evening, he was standing in front of his closet having a minor crisis about what to wear to a club he'd been to dozens of times.

"It's the same club," he told his reflection. "You've been there. Multiple times. This is not different."

His reflection looked unconvinced.

He settled on black jeans and a dark button-up that Kaiser had once said made him look "almost cool," which was probably the best he was going to get. He left his hair alone after fifteen minutes of trying to make it look deliberately messy instead of accidentally disaster.

His phone buzzed.

Kaiser: you're overthinking this

Kaiser: I can feel you overthinking from here

Kaiser: its unsettling

Ness: I'm not overthinking

Kaiser: you've changed your shirt three times

Kaiser: I have cameras in your room

Ness: You what

Kaiser: KIDDING

Kaiser: but you did change your shirt three times didnt you

Ness looked down at his current shirt. Then at the two discarded ones on his bed.

Ness: No

Kaiser: liar

Kaiser: meet you there at 10

Kaiser: try not to combust from anxiety before then

Ness put his phone down and tried not to combust from anxiety.

He arrived at the club at 9:53 PM.

Not too early. Not trying too hard. Definitely not desperate.

The line was already forming — the usual Friday night crowd of people who looked far more comfortable in their skin than Ness had ever felt in his. He joined the queue, hands in his pockets, trying to look like someone who did this all the time.

"Ness?"

He turned.

She was there.

And it wasn't fair, really, how good she looked. Different from last week — tight jean shorts, and a crop top that caught the streetlight and reflected it back in shades of silver. Her glitter was more subtle tonight, just a shimmer across her collarbones, but it was there. Always there.

She grinned. "You came."

"I said I would."

"People say a lot of things." She looked genuinely pleased though, bouncing slightly on her toes. "I wasn't sure you'd actually show."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. Thought maybe you'd decide I was too much. Or too weird. Or—" She shrugged. "People change their minds."

"I didn't change my mind."

Her smile went softer. "Good."

They stood there for a moment, and Ness became acutely aware of everyone else in line, probably watching them, definitely judging his conversational skills.

"Is Kaiser coming?" she asked, and something in Ness's chest tightened.

"Later, probably. He said he'd meet me here."

"Oh." Was that disappointment? Relief? Ness couldn't tell. "Cool."

"Is that— do you want him to—"

"Ness." She grabbed his hand, the touch sudden and warm. "I wanted you here. Not him. Remember?"

"Right. Yeah. Sorry."

"Stop apologizing." She tugged him forward as the line moved. "You're allowed to exist without permission."

Ness thought about that. About existing without permission. It felt revolutionary and vaguely terrifying.

They got to the door. The bouncer — a woman with an undercut and arms that could probably bench press Ness — looked them over and waved them through without comment.

Inside, the bass hit immediately. Ness's ribcage remembered this feeling, the way the sound became physical.

"Okay," she said, turning to face him, walking backward into the crowd with that impossible confidence. "Ground rules for tonight."

"There are rules?"

"There are always rules, baby." She held up one finger. "Rule one: you have to actually try to have fun. Not fake fun. Real fun."

"I don't know the difference."

"I'll teach you." Second finger. "Rule two: you have to dance. At least once. Badly is fine. Badly is encouraged, actually."

"I really don't—"

"Rule three—" Third finger, and she was grinning now. "You have to trust me."

"Trust you to what?"

"Everything." She grabbed his other hand, pulling him deeper into the club. "I'm going to teach you how to read this place. How to move through it. How to see the magic."

"Magic?"

"You don't think there's magic here?" She spun, arms out, and someone nearly collided with her but she'd already moved, fluid and certain. "Look around, Ness. Really look."

So he did.

The club was the same as it had always been — dark, loud, chaotic. Bodies moving in ways that seemed random but probably weren't. Lights cutting through artificial fog. The air thick with sweat and perfume and something Ness couldn't name.

"What am I looking for?"

"Patterns," she said. "Watch the floor near the bar. See how everyone flows around that one spot?"

Ness looked. She was right. There was a darker patch on the floor — sticky, probably a spilled drink from earlier — and everyone unconsciously avoided it.

"Now watch the back corner. By the emergency exit."

He watched. A couple was arguing, tension radiating off them in waves. People gave them a wide berth without seeming to notice they were doing it.

"The DJ's about to change the song," she said. "Watch what happens."

The music shifted. The crowd's movement changed with it — a collective inhale, then a new rhythm taking over.

"It's like..." Ness searched for words. "Choreography. But nobody planned it."

"Exactly." She was watching him now instead of the crowd. "That's the magic. The way chaos becomes pattern becomes chaos again. You just have to know how to look."

Something in Ness's chest expanded. This was what he'd always loved about football — the way eleven individuals could become one organism, the way seemingly random movement could coalesce into perfect geometry.

This was the same. Just different music.

"Come on," she said. "Let's dance."

"I don't—"

"Trust me. Remember? Rule three."

She led him onto the dance floor, found a spot that felt less crowded, and started moving. Not the wild, unrestrained dancing from last week. Something slower, more deliberate. She moved closer, placed his hands on her waist.

"Feel the bass?" she asked, close to his ear so he could hear her.

He nodded.

"Move with that. Not the melody. The bass. Let it move you."

Ness tried. He really did. He shifted his weight, awkward and uncertain, and probably looked like an idiot.

She didn't laugh. Just adjusted her own movement to match his, found the rhythm in his awkwardness and amplified it until it almost looked intentional.

"There," she said. "See? You're doing it."

"I'm really not—"

"You are. You're just thinking too much. Stop choreographing it in your head."

But that was the only way Ness knew how to move — with planning, with purpose, with full awareness of every muscle.

She must have seen the frustration on his face because she stopped, took his hand.

"Okay. Different approach. Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Close them. Trust me."

Ness closed his eyes.

The club disappeared. Or not disappeared, but transformed. Without vision, everything became sound and sensation. The bass in his chest. The heat of bodies nearby. Her hands on his.

"Now," she said, her voice close. "Don't think about dancing. Just... exist. Feel the music. Feel me. Feel the space. Just exist in it."

Ness breathed. Felt.

His body started moving without conscious thought. Small movements at first — a shift of weight, a subtle sway. Then more. Following the bass like she'd said, letting it dictate rhythm instead of his overthinking brain.

"There you go," she said, delighted. "That's it."

He opened his eyes.

She was smiling at him like he'd done something incredible instead of just moving slightly less robotically than usual.

"See?" she said. "Magic."

And maybe it was the lights, or the music, or the way she was looking at him, but Ness felt it. Something shifting in the air between them. Something possible.

"Can I ask you something?" he said.

"Always."

"Why me?"

Her smile flickered. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He gestured vaguely at himself. "I'm not interesting. I'm not funny. I'm definitely not smooth. So why— why are you spending your Friday night teaching me how to dance?"

She looked at him for a long moment. The music swelled around them. Someone jostled past and she moved with it, keeping her hands on him.

"You want the real answer?" she asked.

"Please."

"Because you look at things like you're searching for something. Like there's magic hidden everywhere and you're determined to find it." She reached up, touched his cheek. "Most people stop looking. They accept that this—" She gestured at the club, the world. "—is just what it is. But you? You're still looking. Still hoping."

Ness's throat felt tight. "That sounds exhausting."

"Maybe. But it's also beautiful." She dropped her hand. "And I don't know. I guess I wanted to be part of what you find."

Before Ness could respond — before he could even process what she'd said — someone called his name.

"NESS!"

Kaiser.

He materialized from the crowd like a well-dressed phantom, grinning and already slightly drunk if the brightness in his eyes was any indication. His arm was around someone — a different girl from last week, dark hair and a dress that was mostly cutouts.

"There you are!" Kaiser pulled Ness into a one-armed hug that was slightly too aggressive. "I've been looking everywhere. And you—" He focused on glitter-girl. "You're back. The glitter girl."

"That's me." Her voice was pleasant but cooler than it had been a moment ago. "The glitter girl."

"Ness wouldn't shut up about you all week," Kaiser announced, because apparently he'd decided that subtlety was optional tonight.

"Kaiser—"

"No, really. 'She was so nice, Kaiser.' 'She showed me the club, Kaiser.' 'I can't stop thinking about—'"

"OKAY." Ness's face was on fire. "That's enough."

Glitter-girl was trying not to laugh. "Is that so?"

"He's exaggerating."

"I'm really not."

The girl Kaiser was with tugged on his arm. "Babe, I thought we were getting drinks?"

"We are, we are." Kaiser pressed a sloppy kiss to her temple. "Come on, Ness. You too. And— sorry, what's your name again?"

"Didn't I tell you last time?" she said sweetly.

Kaiser laughed like that was the funniest thing he'd heard all night. "Mysterious. I like it. Come on, mysterious glitter girl. First round's on me."

He started pulling them toward the bar, the girl on his arm giggling at something, and Ness found himself swept up in Kaiser's gravity the way he always was.

But this time, glitter-girl's hand found his.

Laced their fingers together.

Squeezed once.

And Ness squeezed back, feeling something warm and certain settle in his chest.

The bar was chaos. Kaiser ordered shots for everyone, then ordered more shots, then started a conversation with the bartender about the philosophical implications of vodka versus tequila. The girl on his arm was laughing, and Kaiser was performing, and it was exactly like every other Friday night Ness had spent here.

Except this time, she was next to him.

"Your friend is a lot," she said, leaning close so he could hear her.

"That's... one way to put it."

"Does he ever slow down?"

"Not really."

She hummed, thoughtful. "Must be exhausting. Being his designated reality check."

"I'm not—"

"Ness." She looked at him. "You absolutely are."

Kaiser was trying to get everyone to do another round of shots. The girl on his arm was protesting weakly. The bartender looked resigned.

"Come on," glitter-girl said. "Let's give him some space to be ridiculous."

She pulled Ness away from the bar, back toward the dance floor, but this time she didn't stop there. She kept going, weaving through the crowd with that impossible grace, and Ness followed because he was starting to realize he'd follow her pretty much anywhere.

They ended up near the back, where the music was slightly less deafening and the crowd thinned out.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much."

She leaned against the wall, and Ness stood next to her, close enough that their shoulders touched.

"So," she said. "Kaiser."

"What about him?"

"You're in love with him."

Ness choked on air. "What? No. I'm not— we're just—"

"Ness." She wasn't looking at him, just watching the crowd. "It's pretty obvious."

"I don't— it's not like that."

"Okay."

"It's not."

"I said okay." Now she did look at him, something knowing in her dark eyes. "For what it's worth, I don't think he feels the same way."

It shouldn't have hurt. Ness already knew that. Had known that for years.

"I know," he said quietly.

"But you stay anyway."

"He's my best friend."

"Is he though?" She tilted her head. "Or is he just the person you've decided to make your entire world?"

Ness didn't have an answer for that.

She sighed, pushed off the wall. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean. I just—" She turned to face him fully. "I like you, Ness. I think you're interesting and sweet and you have this way of looking at the world that makes me want to show you every beautiful thing I've ever found. But I'm not going to compete with someone who doesn't even know you're in the race."

"You're not competing—"

"Aren't I?" She stepped closer. "Because from where I'm standing, I've spent two Friday nights trying to get your attention, and you still keep looking over my shoulder to see where he is."

Ness opened his mouth. Closed it. Because she was right. Even now, part of his brain was tracking Kaiser's location, making sure he was okay, ready to jump in if needed.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't apologize. Just..." She touched his chest, right over his heart. "Figure out what you actually want. Because I'm here, Ness. I'm right here. And I'm asking you to see me."

"I do see you."

"Do you?" She smiled, but it was sad. "Or do you just see a distraction from him?"

Before Ness could answer, the music shifted. Something slower, deeper. The crowd's energy changed with it.

She stepped back.

"I'm going to dance," she said. "You can join me. Or you can go back to Kaiser. Your choice."

She walked away, and Ness stood there, frozen.

He could see Kaiser at the bar, laughing at something, bright and magnetic. The same Kaiser he'd been following around for years. The same Kaiser who'd probably never look at Ness the way Ness looked at him.

And he could see her on the dance floor, moving through the crowd, glitter catching light.

Looking back at him.

Waiting.

Ness made a choice.

He followed the glitter.

When he reached her, she turned, surprised.

"Ness—"

"I want to see the magic," he said. "With you. Not because you're a distraction. Because you're— you're the most interesting thing that's happened to me in years and I'm an idiot for not seeing that sooner."

Her eyes went wide.

"I don't know how to not care about Kaiser," Ness continued. "He's been my whole world for so long I forgot there were other worlds. But I want to learn. I want—" He swallowed. "I want to try. With you. If you'll let me."

She stared at him. Then, slowly, she smiled.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." She held out her hand. "Teach me your magic, and I'll teach you mine."

Ness took her hand.

And for the first time in a very long time, he didn't look back to see where Kaiser was.

He just danced.

Badly, probably. But she was laughing, and her hand was in his, and the club was full of patterns he was finally learning to read.

Magic, he thought.

She was right.

It was everywhere.

The thing about Friday nights, Ness was learning, was that they had their own rhythm.

Not the frantic, obligatory rhythm of tagging along with Kaiser because that's what loyal friends did. This was different. This was choosing to be here, wanting to be here, because the club had become less of a sensory nightmare and more of a... well, he wouldn't call it home, but maybe something close to it.

A place where magic happened, if you knew how to look.

Week three, and Ness was starting to learn.

He'd arrived with Kaiser — old habits and all that — but where he used to spend the entire night orbiting Kaiser's gravity, now he found himself drifting. Not far. Never far enough that he couldn't intervene if Kaiser needed him (because that was just who Ness was, caring about people, looking out for them). But far enough that he could breathe his own air.

Far enough to find her.

She was by the bar, arguing with the bartender about something, gesturing wildly with her hands. Even from across the club, Ness could see the glitter on her arms catching the light. She'd gone with gold tonight — gold on her shoulders, gold in her hair, gold everywhere that made her look like something out of a myth.

He made his way over, dodging dancers with the kind of spatial awareness she'd been teaching him. Small movements, reading the crowd's flow, finding the path of least resistance.

"—and I'm telling you, that's not how you make a proper gin and tonic," she was saying.

The bartender looked exhausted. "Ma'am, I've been doing this for six years—"

"And you've been doing it wrong for six years! The tonic goes in first, THEN the gin, THEN the lime. It's basic science!"

"I don't think that's science—"

"Excuse me, are you a mixologist?"

"Are YOU?"

"No, but I have a degree in chemistry and I know how carbonation works!"

Ness slid up next to her. "Hey."

She turned, face lighting up. "Ness! Tell him. Tonic first, right?"

"I have no idea."

"You're supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side. I just don't know anything about gin and tonics."

The bartender looked at Ness with desperate gratitude. "Thank you. Finally, someone reasonable."

"Don't encourage him," she said, but she was smiling. She grabbed Ness's hand, pulling him away from the bar. "Come on. The DJ's doing something special tonight."

"Special how?"

"You'll see."

She dragged him toward the dance floor just as the current song ended. The DJ — a woman with purple hair and enough piercings to set off airport security — grabbed the microphone.

"ALRIGHT BERLIN!" Her voice boomed through the speakers. "Hope you're ready for something different tonight. I couldn't decide between decades, so guess what? We're doing ALL OF THEM. Seventies, eighties, nineties — if your parents danced to it while on questionable substances, we're playing it. Let's get WEIRD!"

The crowd cheered. Ness felt a spike of anxiety.

"Oh no," he said.

"Oh YES," she countered, grinning.

The opening notes started — something distinctly older, funkier, completely out of place in a Berlin techno club. Chaka Khan's voice filled the space, and the crowd went absolutely feral.

"I'm Every Woman" blasted through the speakers, and Ness watched in fascination as everyone immediately started dancing like idiots. Not the cool, detached swaying of techno. This was full-body, unironic, joyful ridiculousness.

She was already moving, getting into it, and Ness stood there trying to figure out what his limbs were supposed to do with this rhythm.

"Come on!" she shouted over the music. "Don't just stand there!"

"I don't know how to dance to this!"

"NOBODY does! That's the point!"

She grabbed his hands, spun him around, and Ness found himself laughing despite his complete lack of coordination. Around them, people were doing moves that probably hadn't been cool since before Ness was born, and nobody cared. Everyone was just... having fun.

She was mouthing the words, exaggerated and playful, and Ness couldn't help but smile because she looked absolutely ridiculous and completely perfect.

When Chaka sang "I can read your thoughts right now, every one from A to Z," she tapped her temple dramatically, then pointed directly at Ness, eyes wide with fake intensity.

He laughed.

"I can cast a spell!" She did jazz hands — actual jazz hands, fingers splayed and shimmering with glitter — and Ness felt something warm bloom in his chest because of course she'd do jazz hands, of course she'd commit completely to the bit.

Magic, he thought. She was teaching him about magic and here she was, performing it.

"Of secrets you can tell!" She leaned in close, whispered-shouted: "I know all your secrets, Ness!"

"I don't have secrets!"

"Everyone has secrets!"

"Mix a special brew!" She mimed stirring a cauldron, and Ness was laughing now, properly laughing, the kind that came from his stomach. "Put fire inside of you!"

She poked his chest, right over his heart, and Ness felt the touch like electricity. Like she really had put fire inside him.

"But anytime you feel danger or fear—"

And then she was moving, spinning away from him into the crowd, still singing. She disappeared into the mass of bodies, swallowed by the chaos of dancing limbs and strobing lights.

Ness's heart jumped. He craned his neck, trying to spot her in the chaos, but the lights were strobing and everyone was moving and—

Arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

"Instantly, I will appear!" she sang directly into his ear, and Ness nearly jumped out of his skin.

She was laughing against his back, holding him tight, and Ness felt his face split into a grin so wide it almost hurt.

"You're insane," he said, turning in her arms.

"I'm fun," she corrected. "There's a difference."

The music swelled. The chorus hit again, bigger this time, and she released him, bouncing on her toes.

"Okay," she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Don't freak out."

"Why would I—"

She jumped.

Literally jumped at him.

Ness's hands came up on instinct, catching her, and suddenly she was climbing — actually climbing him like he was a tree — and before his brain could catch up with what was happening, she was on his shoulders.

On. His. Shoulders.

Her thighs bracketing his head, her hands in his hair for balance, and she was SINGING.

"I'M EVERY WOMAN, IT'S ALL IN ME!"

The crowd around them noticed. People started whooping, cheering, and she was singing to them now, one arm raised, the other still tangled in Ness's hair.

"ANYTHING YOU WANT DONE BABY, I'LL DO IT NATURALLY!"

The club was singing back, a chorus of drunk twenty-somethings screaming lyrics about female empowerment while Ness stood frozen, holding onto her legs for dear life, feeling her thighs squeeze around his head every time she moved.

He was being crushed.

He was also maybe having the best time of his life.

Her thighs were soft and warm against his ears, blocking out some of the sound, and every time she moved they tightened around his head and— yeah. Yeah, this was. This was something.

"WOO!" She bent down slightly, her face appearing upside-down in his field of vision, glitter falling from her hair onto his face. "You good down there?"

"I can't breathe!"

"You're talking, so you can definitely breathe!"

"Your thighs are killing me!"

"What a way to go though, right?"

Ness couldn't argue with that logic.

The song built to its final chorus, and she threw both arms up, singing her heart out, and the club sang with her. The energy was massive, joyful, completely unhinged.

Ness found himself walking through the crowd with her still perched on his shoulders, and people were parting for them, grinning, a few people reaching up to high-five her. She was glowing, radiant, entirely in her element.

He'd never felt more like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

The song transitioned, bleeding into something equally chaotic — "Daddy Cool" — and she was still up there, still singing, swaying her hips in a way that made Ness acutely aware of every point of contact between them.

"I'm crazy like a fool, wild about daddy cool," she sang, looking down at Ness and winking.

The cocktails he'd had earlier were making everything feel warm and loose and brave. Or maybe it was having her literally on top of him. Either way, Ness felt bold in a way he never did, reckless in a way that had nothing to do with football.

He turned his head to the side and pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

She gasped — he felt it more than heard it over the music — and her hands tightened in his hair.

"Ness," she said, voice slightly breathless, and he did it again because apparently he was that person now. The person who kissed girls' thighs in the middle of crowded clubs.

"You're trouble," she said, but she sounded delighted.

"You started it."

"Fair."

They were moving through the crowd, and Ness was vaguely aware that people were staring, but he didn't care. Let them stare. He had a beautiful girl on his shoulders and she was singing and he'd just kissed her thigh and life was weird and perfect.

"NESS!"

Oh no.

Kaiser's voice cut through even the music and the chaos. Ness turned — carefully, because he had precious cargo — and found Kaiser staring at them with the most confused expression Ness had ever seen on his face.

"What the actual fuck," Kaiser said eloquently. He was with yet another girl — this one with pink hair and a septum piercing — and they both looked equally baffled.

"Hey Kaiser," Ness said, trying for casual and probably missing by a mile.

"You look..." Kaiser squinted. "Strangely happy. Like, weirdly happy. Suspiciously happy."

"I'm just having fun."

"You're— wait." Kaiser's eyes traveled up, following the line of Ness's body to where her legs were, and his expression shifted to something between impressed and concerned. "Are you getting choked out by someone's thighs right now?"

"Hi Kaiser!" she called down cheerfully, waving.

Kaiser looked up properly, recognized her, and his eyebrows shot up. "Oh. It's you. Glitter girl."

"That's me."

"You're on Ness's shoulders."

"Very observant."

"Is that even comfortable?" Kaiser asked, directing the question at Ness.

Ness felt the cocktails and the boldness and her warmth above him, and the words came out before he could stop them: "So much more than comfortable."

Kaiser's jaw dropped. The pink-haired girl giggled.

"I'm sorry," Kaiser said, "did you just— did Ness just make a flirty comment? Ness. Alexis Ness. You?"

"I can be flirty."

"Since when?!"

"Since tonight, apparently," she said, laughing, and Ness felt the sound vibrate through her whole body, through her thighs, into his skull.

"I'm having a crisis," Kaiser announced. "My repressed little sidekick is getting more action than me and I don't know how to process this."

"You literally have a girl on your arm right now," Ness pointed out.

"That's different. That's normal. This—" He gestured at the whole situation. "—this is character development and I wasn't prepared for it."

"Get prepared," she said sweetly. "We're just getting started."

Kaiser looked at Ness. Really looked at him. And something shifted in his expression — surprise, maybe, or recognition. Like he was seeing Ness as an actual person for the first time in a while.

"Huh," Kaiser said finally. "Good for you, man."

And he meant it. Ness could tell.

"Thanks," Ness said.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That leaves a lot of options."

"Exactly." Kaiser grinned, pulled his own date closer. "Have fun, you crazy kids."

And then he was gone, swallowed back into the crowd, and Ness was alone with her again. Well. As alone as you could be in a packed club with someone sitting on your shoulders.

"He's weird," she observed.

"You have no idea."

"Do you want me to get down?"

"Absolutely not."

She laughed, and they kept moving through the crowd, her singing, him trying not to trip over his own feet, both of them covered in glitter and sweat and joy.

The club started playing slower songs around 2 AM — still from the throwback playlist, but gentler now. Clearly trying to wind people down, get them to leave.

It had the opposite effect.

When "More Than a Woman" started playing, the crowd shifted. People paired off, swaying together, and Ness finally, carefully, helped her down from his shoulders.

She slid down his front — slowly, deliberately — until her feet touched the ground and they were face to face.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi."

They were standing close. So close. The music was soft around them, the Bee Gees crooning about love and devotion, and Ness's hands were still on her waist and her arms were around his neck.

"Dance with me?" she asked. "Properly this time. Not the chaotic stuff."

"I don't know how to slow dance."

"It's easy. Just sway. And don't step on my feet."

"That second part I can't promise."

But he tried anyway. They moved together, finding a rhythm that was less about the music and more about each other. Her head rested on his shoulder. His cheek pressed against her hair. She smelled like vanilla and sweat and that ever-present glitter.

"This is nice," she murmured.

"Yeah."

"You're getting good at this. The club thing."

"I have a good teacher."

"Damn right you do."

They swayed. The song played. Around them, other couples were doing the same, the whole club transformed into something gentler, softer.

Ness pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her face. She was already looking at him, dark eyes warm in the dim light.

"Can I—" he started.

"Yes," she said.

He leaned in. She leaned in. Their lips were a breath apart, and Ness could feel his heart trying to escape his chest, and—

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE, TIME TO GO HOME!"

The DJ's voice blasted through the speakers, house lights coming up bright and unforgiving.

They jumped apart like startled cats.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said.

"Terrible timing," Ness agreed, but he was smiling.

"CLUB IS CLOSED! FIND YOUR FRIENDS, GRAB YOUR COATS, GET OUT! YOU DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE TO GO HOME BUT YOU CAN'T STAY HERE!"

The crowd was groaning, protesting, but slowly starting to move toward the exits. The magic was broken, replaced by fluorescent reality.

She grabbed his hand. "Come on. Let's go before they literally kick us out."

They stumbled outside with the rest of the crowd, blinking in the harsh streetlights. The Berlin night was cool and sharp, a welcome relief after hours in the humid club.

Kaiser was already out there, leaning against the wall with pink-haired girl, smoking a cigarette.

"There he is," Kaiser said when he spotted Ness. "I thought you'd died in there."

"Very much alive."

"I can see that." Kaiser looked at her, then at their joined hands, then back at Ness. "You heading back to the facility?"

Ness opened his mouth to say yes — because that's what he always did, went back with Kaiser, crashed in his room or the common area, ready for morning training.

But then he looked at her. At the way she was watching him, hopeful and patient and not pushing.

"Actually," Ness said, and reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys. He tossed them to Kaiser, who caught them on reflex. "Can you take these back for me? I'll... I'll be back later. Tomorrow. Soon."

Kaiser's eyebrows shot up. "Ness. Are you ditching me?"

"I'm... making different plans."

"Holy shit. You ARE ditching me." Kaiser looked delighted. "Who are you and what have you done with my loyal golden retriever?"

"He's learning new tricks," she said sweetly.

Kaiser laughed, pocketed Ness's things. "Alright. Don't do anything too stupid. And text me so I know you're alive."

"I will."

"I mean it, Ness. I'm not covering for you if you end up in prison."

"Why would I end up in prison?"

"I don't know! You're being unpredictable now! Anything could happen!"

She tugged on Ness's hand. "Come on. Let's go before he makes you promise to check in every hour."

They started walking, leaving Kaiser and his date behind. Ness could hear Kaiser's laughter following them down the street.

"So," she said as they walked, their footsteps echoing in the empty street. "Where to?"

"I thought you were leading."

"I am. I'm just seeing if you had opinions."

"I don't even know what time it is."

She checked her phone. "Almost three. Most places are closed, but..." She grinned. "I know a place."

Of course she did.

They walked through Berlin's late-night streets, past closed shops and the occasional other drunk reveler, until they reached another club — smaller, more underground, music already thumping through the walls.

"Here," she said. "No throwback playlist here. Just pure chaos."

They went inside.

The next few hours were a blur of music and drinks and dancing. This club was different — darker, more intense, the kind of place where the music felt like it was rewiring your brain. Ness kept drinking because she kept handing him drinks, and she kept dancing because that's what she did, and they kept touching because gravity seemed to pull them together.

At some point, they ended up outside again. The club was closing or they'd been kicked out or they'd simply wandered — Ness wasn't sure. Time was doing weird things.

"TAXI!" someone was yelling.

Not a taxi. A car. A convertible, top down, music blasting from the speakers. Three people Ness vaguely recognized from one of the clubs were piled in, laughing.

"YOU GUYS WANT A RIDE?" the driver yelled.

"YES!" she yelled back, and before Ness could process, they were climbing into the back seat, squished between other drunk people, and the car was moving.

Fast.

Way too fast for city streets.

The wind whipped through Ness's hair, cold and sharp and exhilarating. The music was so loud he could feel it in his bones. She was pressed against his side, laughing, her hair flying everywhere, and Ness felt like he was in a music video or a dream or something that definitely wasn't real life.

"THIS IS INSANE!" he shouted over the wind and music.

"I KNOW!" she shouted back. "ISN'T IT GREAT?"

It was. It was completely insane and probably dangerous and absolutely great.

They flew through empty streets, past buildings that blurred together, the city lights streaking like stars. Someone in the front was singing along to the music. Someone else was hanging out the window. Ness was pretty sure this was illegal in at least seventeen different ways.

Then she grabbed his arm, urgent.

"NEXT CORNER!" she yelled to the driver. "LET US OUT!"

"WHAT?"

"NEXT CORNER! NOW!"

The driver barely slowed, and she was pulling Ness out of the car, tumbling onto the sidewalk in a tangle of limbs. The car sped off, music fading into the distance.

"Why did we—" Ness started.

"Wait for it," she said, eyes on the street where the car had disappeared.

Ten seconds later, a police car screamed past, lights flashing, siren wailing, clearly in pursuit.

Ness started laughing. He couldn't help it. The absurdity of it, the timing, the way she'd somehow known—

"How did you—"

"Told you," she said, grinning. "I know things. I see patterns."

He was laughing so hard he had to close his eyes, doubling over, and she was laughing too, and they were alone on a Berlin street corner at god-knows-what time in the morning, covered in glitter and probably breaking several public intoxication laws.

When Ness opened his eyes, the world spun pleasantly.

Then it spun unpleasantly.

Then everything went dark.

He woke up to sunlight.

Which was wrong. He'd closed his eyes in darkness, and now there was sunlight, which meant time had done something fucky or he'd passed out or—

He was in a bed.

A bed he didn't recognize.

In a room he definitely didn't recognize.

Panic started to set in. Had he gone home with someone? Had he made decisions? Oh god, Kaiser was going to kill him for missing training, assuming training was today, what day was it—

"You're awake."

Ness turned his head — slowly, because it felt like his brain was rattling around in his skull like a marble in a jar — and saw her.

She was sitting in a chair by the window, already dressed, looking significantly more put-together than Ness felt. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she wasn't wearing any glitter for the first time since he'd met her. She looked different. Softer, maybe. More real.

"Where am I?" Ness croaked.

"My apartment. You passed out in the cab. Couldn't exactly leave you on the street, so." She shrugged. "Dragged your ass up three flights of stairs. You owe me for that, by the way. You're heavier than you look."

"I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be. It was either this or let you sleep on the sidewalk, and I've grown kind of fond of you." She stood, walked over with a glass of water and what looked like painkillers. "Here. You're going to need these."

Ness took them gratefully, downing the water in one long gulp. His mouth tasted like something had died in it.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost noon."

"Noon?!" Ness tried to sit up too fast, regretted it immediately as the room spun. "Shit. Training. I have training, I need to—"

"Breathe." Her hand on his shoulder, gentle but firm, pushed him back down. "I already texted Kaiser. Well, I texted from your phone pretending to be you. Told him you were sick."

"You— what?"

"Relax. He believed it. Sent back a very eloquent 'lol pussy' and said he'd cover for you."

Ness groaned, covering his face with his hands. "This is a disaster."

"This is called having a life." She sat on the edge of the bed, and Ness became acutely aware that he was only in his boxers and shirt. "You're allowed to be hungover on a Saturday, Ness. The world won't end."

"You don't understand. I don't do this. I don't miss training, I don't get drunk, I don't—" He gestured vaguely at the room, at her, at the situation. "This."

"Well, you did this. And you're still alive. Congrats."

She said it kindly, teasingly, and some of the panic in Ness's chest eased.

He looked around the room properly now. It was small but cozy, walls covered in posters and string lights. A desk in the corner piled with textbooks — chemistry, he noticed. The glitter made sense now.

"You took care of me," he said.

"Obviously. Couldn't let you choke on your own vomit."

"I didn't—"

"You didn't. But you could have. I'm responsible like that."

Ness looked at her — really looked at her. At the way the sunlight caught her face, the softness in her eyes, the small smile playing at her lips. She'd brought him to her home, put him in her bed, taken care of him. For once, someone was taking care of him instead of the other way around.

It felt nice.

It felt like magic.

"I should go," he said, not moving.

"You should stay," she countered. "At least until the room stops spinning for you."

"How did you know the room was spinning?"

"Because you keep squinting like you're trying to focus. Also, you almost fell over trying to sit up."

"Observant."

"Always."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Ness could hear the city outside — cars, voices, life happening. But in here, it was quiet. Peaceful.

"Can I ask you something?" Ness said.

"Shoot."

"What's your name?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Your name. I just realized I don't actually know it. I've been calling you 'glitter girl' in my head for three weeks."

She started laughing — bright and surprised. "Oh my god. Are you serious?"

"The music is always too loud! I couldn't hear it the first time, and then it felt too awkward to ask again, and then too much time had passed—"

"Ness." She was grinning now. "You kissed my thigh last night and you don't even know my name?"

His face burned. "When you put it like that, it sounds bad."

"It IS bad. Oh my god." But she was still smiling, reaching out to brush glitter off his cheek — glitter that was apparently still there, still clinging to him like evidence. "It's—"

And she told him. Finally, clearly, in the quiet of her apartment where he could actually hear it.

The name settled into his chest, warm and right.

"That's..." He tested it out, saying it out loud. "That's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She leaned in, and Ness's heart jumped because they were alone, sober (mostly), in her bed, and she was so close—

She kissed him.

Soft, sweet, tasting like the chapstick she must have put on while he was sleeping. Nothing like the almost-kiss from the club. This was deliberate, certain, a promise of more.

When she pulled back, Ness was staring at her like she'd just performed actual magic.

"That was—"

"Long overdue?" she offered.

"I was going to say perfect, but that works too."

"Good." She stood, stretched. "Now, I'm going to make breakfast. You're going to eat it, drink more water, and then you can decide if you want to leave or stay."

"Stay," Ness said immediately.

"Don't you have training?"

"I have a life now, apparently. Training can wait."

She grinned. "Character development. I'm so proud."

She left the room, and Ness lay back in her bed, staring at the ceiling, covered in glitter that he was pretty sure would never fully wash off.

He touched his lips where she'd kissed him.

Then he touched his cheek where the glitter was.

Magic, he thought.

He'd found it.

Or maybe it had found him.