Talia's house is already alive when we arrive.
The sound of children's laughter spills out the front door before I even knock, the familiar chaos of overlapping voices and small feet running across wooden floors wrapping around me the moment we step inside.
"Finally!" Talia calls from somewhere in the house.
The boys don't wait.
Evan is already halfway down the hallway before I can even take his shoes off properly, James not far behind him, both of them pulled instantly into whatever game is already in progress.
I stand there for a second, watching them disappear into the noise.
Safe.
Happy.
Unburdened.
"See?" Talia says, appearing beside me with a knowing smile. "They didn't even look back."
I exhale softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. "That's supposed to make me feel better, right?"
"It should," she laughs, taking the bag from my hand. "Come on. You're not allowed to hover."
Saying goodnight takes longer than it should.
It always does.
Evan clings to me for a second longer than usual, his small arms wrapping tightly around my neck.
"You're coming back, right?" he whispers.
"Of course I am," I murmur, pressing a kiss into his hair. "I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone."
James is quieter, but when I lean down to kiss his forehead, he lingers.
"Have fun," he says.
The words feel strange coming from him.
Too grown, too aware for a little boy of only nine.
"I will," I promise.
And for the first time…
I actually mean it.
The cab ride to the club is filled with energy I haven't felt in years.
Music plays loudly through the speakers, Talia singing along without caring if she's in tune, her laughter filling the space between us.
"You look good," she says suddenly, glancing over at me.
I feel my cheeks warm slightly. "I feel… different."
"Good different or scary different?"
I think about it for a second.
"Both."
She grins. "Perfect."
The club noise hits me all at once.
The moment we step inside, the bass vibrates through the floor, up through my heels, into my chest. Lights flash and move in rhythm with the music, casting everything in shifting colors—reds, blues, golds that flicker across faces and bodies and movement.
It's loud.
Alive with bodies of every kind.
Overwhelming in the best and worst ways at the same time.
I hesitate just slightly at the entrance, my senses catching up all at once.
The smell of perfume and alcohol.
The heat of too many bodies in one space.
The constant movement.
Talia grabs my hand.
"Don't overthink it," she says, pulling me forward.
We find her friends near the bar.
And they are exactly what I expected.
And nothing like me.
"You made it!" one of them calls out, already waving us over.
Sarah is the first to pull me into a hug, her energy immediate and unapologetic.
"Oh my God, you're Lizzy," she says, holding me at arm's length for a second like she's assessing me. "You're way cuter than I expected."
I blink, caught off guard.
"Uh… thanks?"
She grins. "I say everything out loud. You'll get used to it."
"That's your warning," Talia mutters.
Jessica stands beside her, offering me a small, slightly shy smile.
"Hi," she says softly. "I'm Jessica. Oh, and Happy birthday."
There's something gentle about her, something grounding in the middle of all this noise.
"Thank you." I reply, meaning it more than I expected.
"And I'm Kate," another voice cuts in, already pushing a shot glass into my hand before I can react. "And we are not standing around talking all night."
I stare down at the clear liquid in the glass.
"No, no—" I start.
"Birthday rule," she says firmly. "You don't get to say no."
Talia leans in beside me. "She's right."
Of course they would team up against me.
I let out a small breath.
"Okay," I say.
And before I can think too much about it—
I take the shot.
The burn hits instantly, sharp and hot as it slides down my throat, making my eyes water slightly as I cough.
Kate cheers.
"There she is!"
I laugh despite myself, the sound surprising me.
Loose.
Unfiltered.
Real.
I take a step back, letting my eyes move over them properly now.
They're all dressed like they belong here.
Like this is their world.
Short dresses that catch the light when they move, fabrics that cling and shift, heels that make them stand taller, sharper, more confident.
They look like they're asking to be seen.
And fully expecting to be.
I glance down at myself.
At my jeans. My soft blouse.
The way I suddenly feel both comfortable and completely out of place at the same time.
"You're thinking too much," Talia says, appearing beside me again.
"I feel like I don't belong here."
She snorts. "None of us belongs here. That's the point. Tonight you get to be someone else. Be someone who could have fun in a place like this."
I look at her.
She smiles.
"Just feel it," she says. "Just tonight."
So I try to loosen up.
I let the music settle into me.
Let the second drink come easier than the first.
Let the noise blur just enough to soften the edges of my thoughts.
Very slowly I stop feeling like I'm standing on the outside of it.
The music pulls me in slowly, not all at once, but in layers that build around me until I stop noticing where it begins and where I end.
At first, I'm aware of everything—the way my body moves, where my hands go, how I look compared to everyone else around me, as if I'm standing just slightly outside myself, watching instead of living it. But the drinks soften that edge, and the noise wraps around me in a way that makes it harder to hold onto those thoughts.
When Talia grabs my hand and spins me toward her, laughing without hesitation, something in me loosens. I laugh with her, not thinking about how I look or whether I belong, just reacting, just existing in the moment.
Before I realise it, I'm moving without analysing it. My hips follow the rhythm naturally, my shoulders relax, and my head tips back slightly as laughter escapes me when Kate shouts something I barely catch over the music.
It's been years since I've felt like this—light, unaware, free in a way that feels both unfamiliar and dangerously easy to slip into.
"I need a drink," I say, leaning closer to Talia so she can hear me.
"Go!" she shouts back, already turning toward the music again. "Get me one too!"
I nod and make my way through the crowd, weaving between bodies and flashing lights until I reach the bar. The air feels slightly cooler here, though it's still thick with the scent of alcohol and something sweet that lingers in the back of my throat.
I rest my hands lightly against the counter, letting myself pause for a moment, my smile still lingering as I take a breath and allow the noise behind me to dull just slightly.
That's when I feel it.
Not something I see at first, but something I become aware of, like a shift in the space beside me that draws my attention before I can stop it.
I glance sideways.
There's a young man standing next to me, close enough that I should have noticed him before. He looks to be in his early twenties, tall in a way that feels steady rather than imposing, with a build that suggests strength without effort. Nothing about him feels exaggerated or intentional, and that somehow makes him stand out more.
His hair falls slightly into his forehead, soft and a little messy, like he hasn't tried too hard to fix it, and there's something about the way he carries himself that feels calm in contrast to everything around him.
But it isn't any of that that holds me.
It's the way he's looking at me.
There's no hesitation in it, no quick glance followed by polite avoidance. He looks at me like something caught his attention and held it there, like he hasn't quite remembered to look away yet.
My breath catches just slightly, and I turn back to the bar, my fingers curling lightly against the edge as I try to pretend I didn't notice.
But I did.
I definitely did.
The bartender appears, and I order quickly, my voice just a little too bright, as if I'm trying to fill the space with something normal.
Still, I can feel it.
That look hasn't shifted.
I glance again, just briefly.
He hasn't moved. He hasn't looked away. There's no smile, no attempt to speak, no gesture that suggests he's going to approach me.
He's just watching.
Steady.
Unmoving.
Like he's trying to understand something.
Or maybe like he already has.
My drinks arrive, breaking the moment just enough for me to move again. I reach for them and turn slightly toward him, unsure for a second what the right response is.
So I settle for something simple.
A small smile.
A polite nod.
Just enough to acknowledge that I see him too.
Then I turn and walk back toward the dance floor.
The energy pulls me back in almost immediately. Kate grabs my wrist and drags me into the music again, Sarah is already halfway into a loud conversation with someone nearby, and Jessica stands close, smiling quietly as she watches everything unfold.
I let myself fall back into it, letting the music carry me, letting the movement take over where thought usually lives.
But something has changed.
Because now, beneath everything else, there's a quiet awareness that doesn't fade.
Every now and then, I feel it again, like a thread pulling gently at my attention, reminding me of something just outside my focus.
At first, I tell myself it's nothing, that it's just the crowd, the noise, the way people look at each other in places like this.
But when I glance toward the bar again, he's still there.
In the same place.
Looking right at me.
I turn away more quickly this time, my heart beating just a little faster than it should for something that means nothing.
And yet it doesn't feel like nothing.
Because even when I'm laughing, even when I'm moving, even when I'm not thinking about him at all, I can feel it.
That steady attention.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
But constant in a way that settles under my skin and refuses to leave.
And by the time I realise how aware I've become of it, how often my attention drifts back in his direction without meaning to…
it's already too late.
Because now—
I'm noticing him too.