"You know my password," I sigh, watching as she types in my birthday with practiced ease.
"Just checking if you changed it," she says, navigating to my Spotify App. "You should, by the way. 0-1-2-3 is way too easy for someone to guess."
As she scrolls through my playlists, I catch her pausing at my notifications. Her eyebrows lift slightly—she's seen the Instagram alerts. For a moment, I think she's going to click on them, and my stomach tightens. But then she meets my eyes in the dim light of the car, something questioning in her gaze.
I give a tiny head shake. Not now. Not tonight.
She nods and returns to Spotify, finding a playlist I don't even remember creating and connecting to the car's system. Seconds later, 1000 Blunts from $uicedboy$, fills the space. Emily turns up the volume just enough to make conversation possible and dancing inevitable once the bass hits.
"Ten minutes to destination," Mike announces as we merge onto the main road.
"Perfect timing," Lily says, checking her lipstick in a compact mirror. "Just long enough for the tequila to really kick in."
"But not long enough for my feet to remember these shoes were a mistake," I add, wiggling my toes in the strappy heels I haven't worn since... well, since I can't remember.
"Pain is beauty, beauty is pain," Emily says sagely, then immediately contradicts herself by pulling a tiny ziplock bag from her clutch. "Which is why I brought these." She hands each of us what looks like a small, clear gel pad.
"Ball of foot cushions," she explains. "Stick them in your heels. Life-changing."
"You're like Mary Poppins with that tiny handbag," Lily marvels, already applying the cushion to her strappy heels. "What else have you got in there? A lamp? More tequila?"
"A lady never tells," Emily replies primly, then ruins the effect by adding, "But I do have mints, hair ties, two band-aids, and an emergency tampon, just in case."
The car fills with our laughter, bright and bubbling against the backdrop of the music. Outside the window, the city slides by in a blur of lights and movement. Friday night energy pulses even through the SUV’s tinted windows. People are spilling out of restaurants, groups are huddled on street corners deciding where to go next, a few couples are walking hand in hand toward their evenings.
For a fleeting moment, I think about where Ethan might be tonight. Celebrating with Olivia? Planning their wedding? The thought threatens to pull me under again, but I push it away. Not tonight. Tonight isn't about what I've lost. It's about having fun.
"We're here, ladies," Mike announces as we pull up to a sleek building with a line already forming outside. A discrete sign in elegant script reads "The Velvet Room" above doors guarded by two imposing bouncers.
"Thanks, Mike," I say as we gather our things. "You've been a gem."
"Have fun ladies," he replies, and there's something genuine in his smile. "Whatever you're celebrating, y’all look amazing."
We step out onto the sidewalk, adjusting our dresses. The bass from inside pulses faintly through the walls, a heartbeat inviting us in. The line looks long, and I start walking down the sidewalk towards the end, but Emily's already striding confidently toward the door, bypassing the queue entirely.
"Em," I hiss, hurrying after her. "There's a line."
"My friend Max is meeting us." she calls back over her shoulder. "He texted me earlier. He's got us on the list."
Sure enough, when we reach the entrance, Emily gives a name to the bouncer, who checks his iPad and nods, unhooking the velvet rope to let us pass. I hearthe grumble of line goers. Someone says, "What?" and another shouts, "How are they getting in?" But I don't want to cause any more drama, so I just follow my sister and Lily.
As we step inside, the music envelops us, the lights are dim and pulsing, the crowd a shifting sea of movement and energy. For a moment, we stand together at the threshold, taking it all in, the sprawling space, the second story views, the beautiful people with their beautiful drinks.
"Well," Lily breathes, eyes wide with appreciation. "This is quite something, isn't it?"
Emily squeezes my hand, a silent question. Are you okay? Are you ready for this?
I squeeze back, feeling the music calling to my body, the night stretched out before us with infinite possibility.
Fuck Ethan and fuck his engagement.
"Let's dance," I say, leading them into the crowd. I want to get lost in myself tonight.
Chapter three
Charlie
"Drinks first, dance later," Emily says, grabbing my wrist before I can venture further into the crowd. "I promised I was buying the first round tonight, remember?"
