College had rules.
Unwritten ones.
Unannounced.
But heavily enforced by social expectation and loud music.
—
Rule #1: You must attend at least one party.Rule #2: You must pretend to enjoy it.Rule #3: You must have a story afterward.
—
Cielo failed all three.
—
"Tonight," Jessa announced, standing in front of her like a motivational speaker with questionable intentions, "you are going out."
Cielo didn't look up from her laptop.
"I go out every day. It is called school."
"This is different."
"How?"
"There will be music. People. Poor decisions."
—
Cielo paused.
"…That sounds like a system failure."
—
Jessa grabbed her arm. "You need exposure."
"I am already sensitive to exposure."
"Not sunlight, social life!"
—
And somehow…
against her better judgment and perfectly reasonable instincts…
Cielo found herself standing outside a house that looked like it had already made several bad decisions.
—
You're there with her.
You can hear the bass before you even reach the door.
Feel it in your chest like a second heartbeat.
Lights flashing through windows.
Voices layered over each other like noise competing for attention.
—
Cielo stopped walking.
"This environment feels… unstable."
Jessa grinned. "Exactly. That's the point."
—
Inside, everything moved too fast.
People laughed louder than necessary.
Music made conversation optional.
The air smelled like something between cheap perfume and questionable choices.
—
Cielo stayed near the wall.
Instinct.
Observation mode activated.
—
Jessa disappeared within three minutes.
"Network!" she shouted before blending into the crowd.
—
Of course she did.
—
Now it's just you and Cielo.
Standing at the edge.
Watching.
—
A group nearby laughed.
Too loud.
Too forced.
One girl checked her phone between smiles.
A guy kept repeating the same joke like it might become funny through persistence.
—
Cielo leaned slightly toward you—toward the space beside her.
"This is fascinating," she whispered.
—
"How?"
—
"Everyone is performing."
—
She nodded toward the room.
"They are not just here to enjoy. They are here to be seen enjoying."
—
You notice it too now.
The angles of selfies.
The pauses before laughter.
The quick glances to check who is watching.
—
Cielo tilted her head.
"Social validation in real-time."
—
A boy approached her.
Confidence level: artificially high.
"Hey," he said, smiling like he practiced it. "You look… quiet."
—
Cielo blinked.
"I am."
—
He laughed like that was a joke.
"It's a party," he said. "You should loosen up."
—
Cielo considered this.
Then asked:
"Define loosen."
—
He paused.
"…Just… have fun."
—
Cielo nodded slowly.
"I am observing."
—
He blinked.
"That's not fun."
—
She tilted her head.
"It is for me."
—
He didn't know what to do with that.
So he smiled awkwardly and left.
—
Cielo watched him go.
"Interesting," she murmured.
—
Jessa reappeared, slightly breathless.
"You're still alive!"
"Yes."
"Did you talk to anyone?"
"Yes."
"And?"
—
Cielo shrugged.
"He suggested I become less myself."
—
Jessa rolled her eyes. "Classic."
—
They moved slightly toward a quieter corner.
Still loud.
But less overwhelming.
—
"Do you hate it?" Jessa asked.
—
Cielo thought.
Not immediately answering.
—
"I don't hate it," she said finally.
"I just… don't belong to it."
—
Jessa nodded.
"That's fair."
—
Cielo looked around again.
People dancing.
People pretending.
People trying.
—
"There's nothing wrong with it," she added.
"It's just not built for me."
—
Jessa smiled softly. "Not everything has to be."
—
And that—
that felt important.
—
Cielo stepped outside for air.
Cooler.
Quieter.
Real.
—
You follow her.
The noise fades behind you.
Replaced by night.
Breathable space.
—
She leans against the wall.
Exhales.
—
"I used to think I was missing out," she said.
—
You wait.
—
She shakes her head slightly.
"I think I'm just choosing differently."
—
Jessa joins her outside.
"Okay," she said, "honest review."
—
Cielo nodded.
"Environment: loud."
"People: performing."
"Conclusion: not my system."
—
Jessa laughed. "You are unbelievable."
—
Cielo smiled faintly.
"I am consistent."
—
That night, back in her room, she writes again.
—
Entry: The Girl Who Doesn't Party
Today I learned that not every space is meant for me.
And that is not failure.
—
She pauses.
Then adds:
Belonging is not about forcing yourself into noise.
It is about recognizing where you can exist without pretending.
—
She closes the notebook.
Not heavy.
Not conflicted.
Just… certain.
—
Outside, the world continues.
Loud for some.
Quiet for others.
—
And Cielo—
for the first time in a long while—
does not feel left out.
—
She feels…
aligned.