The soft buzz of the club wrapped around Amara like a second skin—unfamiliar, a little uncomfortable, but strangely exciting. She hadn't been in a place like this in years, maybe ever. The dim lights flickered overhead, catching the faint shimmer of her dress, the one Melody had forced her into.
Forced might have been a strong word.
But it didn't feel that way when Melody showed up at her house hours earlier with a sparkle in her eyes and a garment bag in her hand, practically dragging Amara across the street to her apartment.
"You're going to wear this," Melody announced like it was a royal decree, unzipping the bag to reveal a soft, off-shoulder satin dress in a pale blush color. It wasn't loud. It didn't scream for attention. But it hugged the body just right, elegant and quiet, exactly the kind of beauty Amara never thought to claim for herself.
Amara had hesitated, but Melody was not the type to negotiate.
"You can't keep hiding in fabric that swallows you whole," Melody said, her hands already reaching for Amara's hair. "We're brushing out these curls tonight. No tight buns."
And somehow, Amara let her.
Melody's hands worked quickly but carefully, tugging a light pink gloss over her lips, adding just the faintest shimmer to her eyelids, brushing her brows into place. The transformation wasn't dramatic, but when Amara stood in front of the mirror, she barely recognized the girl staring back.
Her skin glowed in the soft light. Her natural curls framed her face gently, no longer pinned or hidden. The satin dress skimmed her figure, settling gracefully at her knees. Her collarbones peeked from the off-shoulder cut, delicate and effortless.
"I don't look like me," Amara whispered.
"You look like you," Melody said firmly, zipping up her small clutch. "The version of you that's been hiding in that shop."
Amara laughed under her breath. "You're really something."
"I'm your best decision tonight," Melody grinned. "Trust me."
And maybe, for once, she did.
When they finally stepped into the club, the effect was instant. Heads turned, conversations paused, subtle but undeniable. Melody, as always, soaked in the attention with a quiet smirk. Amara, on the other hand, kept her gaze steady, pretending not to notice the stares.
She told herself it was because of Melody.
She told herself no one was really looking at her.
But as they weaved through the crowd to find a seat, Amara felt it—the faint weight of curiosity brushing over her, the soft pull of strangers' eyes that lingered longer than she expected.
She sat, folded her hands in her lap, her breathing shallow but steady.
Melody leaned in, her voice teasing. "You know you look stunning, right?"
"I just… I feel like I borrowed someone else's life tonight."
"You didn't borrow it, babe. You just finally unpacked it."
Amara smiled softly, still unsure what to do with all this attention.
Across the room, she briefly noticed two men talking—one of them vaguely familiar—but she brushed the thought aside. She wasn't here to meet anyone. She was here because Melody didn't give her room to say no.
The music shifted, something lighter filling the air. Melody, of course, dragged her to the dance floor, insisting they couldn't just sit all night.
Amara moved carefully, her body remembering how to sway, how to let go just enough to enjoy the rhythm. It wasn't her world, but for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to simply be.
What she didn't notice—what she didn't even consider—was that Xavier's eyes had found her again.
From a distance.
With a curiosity he didn't yet understand.
And she…
She was still completely unaware.