The mirror reflects a woman determined to reclaim herself. She stands in front of it, fixing the final touches—a dab of perfume on her wrists, a swipe of lipstick to match the fire she's determined to spark tonight. The dress she's chosen hugs her perfectly, confidence stitched into every seam. Her hair falls effortlessly, styled with just enough care to look both elegant and carefree.
Lauren determines to forget Allen. She exhales, shaking off the ghost of his betrayal as she grabs her clutch and heads out the door.
The bar hums with energy the moment she steps inside—the bass of the music thrumming through the floor, neon lights casting a sultry glow over the dance floor, bodies swaying in rhythm.The bar is alive with neon lights flickering over silhouettes—laughter, movement, the scent of alcohol and excitement mixing in the air.
She closes her eyes for a moment, letting go of everything outside this place—the heartbreak, the memories, the weight of everything she's trying to forget. The music is loud enough to drown it all out, and for once, she lets herself exist in the beat, unburdened.
A little breathless, she slows down, stepping toward the bar for a drink. And that's when she feels a presence beside her.
"You move like someone who's not thinking about anything," a smooth voice cuts through the background noise.
She turns, meeting the gaze of a stranger—a man with a confident smirk, casually leaning against the counter.
She huffs out a small laugh, ordering a drink before answering. "Maybe I'm trying to avoid thinking."
He raises an eyebrow, signaling the bartender before nodding toward her drink. "Let me get that for you."
She studies him for a moment. He's tall, well-dressed, has a certain ease about him—someone who knows his way around places like this.
"Generous," she muses. "But I'm not looking for anything tonight."
He smirks, unfazed. "Neither am I. Just thought you deserved a drink. No strings attached."
She tilts her head slightly. "No expectations?"
He lifts his own glass. "None. Just two strangers, enjoying the night."
She considers that, then nods, clinking her glass lightly against his.
"To forgetting," she murmurs.
"To moving on," he corrects.
And just like that, the conversation flows—light, effortless. No pressure. No ghosts from the past.
Just a moment suspended in neon light and the rhythm of the night.
Across the room, a familiar pair of eyes fixate on Lauren.
Erika her friend—someone who's always been just that, a friend, but with feelings she has never quite voiced—watches, brows furrowed, drink untouched in her hand. She wasn't expecting to find her here, least of all with someone new, a stranger effortlessly occupying the space beside her like he belonged.
Erika was wearing a black tuxedo, her hair half tied the first half button of her clothes were unbutton.
Lauren on the other hand had been enjoying herself, wrapped in laughter and conversation, until her eyes landed on Erika—her friend, the woman who had found her earlier, now lost in the movement of the dance floor.
But she is not alone.
A woman with sleek confidence dances with her, arms grazing her as they move, the rhythm between them effortless, comfortable. She doesn't pull away—if anything, she leans into it, letting herself be swept up in the energy of the night.
Something sharp twists in Lauren's chest.
She stiffens, gripping her drink tighter than necessary. Jealousy flares up, unexpected and raw, and before she can even question it, she's already moving toward the dance floor, weaving between people until she reaches Erika.
The feeling of not wanting someone to have what's yours, that's what she was feeling right now.
Without hesitation, she grabs Erika's wrist, pulling her toward the edge of the room, away from the flashing lights and the girl who was laughing with him just moments ago.
She stumbles slightly but follows, surprise flashing in her eyes. "What the hell?" Erika mutters, adjusting her balance as they reach a quieter corner near the exit. "What's wrong?"
Lauren crosses her arms, breath slightly uneven, anger simmering beneath her skin. "What's wrong?" she echoes, eyes flashing. "Are you seriously asking me that?"
Erika gives her a look, exasperated. "Yes. Because I have no idea why you just pulled me off the dance floor like that."
She scoffs. "You were practically wrapped around her."
She raises a brow. "So?"
"So? Why are you wrapped around a girl?". Confused Lauren asked.
Erika's jaw tighten ". You might have not know but I am a lesbian just for you to be informed and so what if I'm with other woman?It's not like I'm your fiance right?".
The music continues behind them, the bar still pulsing with life.