The bass stretches, warping slightly, pressing behind my eyes instead of into my chest. Lights smear at the edges. Gold bleeding into blue, blue into shadow.
I blink hard.
My limbs feel warm. Loose. Like my joints are negotiating instead of obeying.
I frown and shift.
Probably just the drinks. I had a couple earlier. That happens.
I stand, testing my balance.
It holds.
See? Fine.
I laugh at something Levi says, but the sound comes out a second late. Like my body answered before my brain caught up.
“You good?” Jamie asks, eyes sharp.
“Yeah,” I say easily. “Just need water.”
A quiet unease curls low in my chest.
My stomach clenches.
Oh.
“I think I need to sit down,” I say, even as I’m already doing it.
Jamie’s smile fades. “Audra?”
The room tilts—just a fraction.
Then my stomach rebels completely.
I barely have time to turn before I’m gagging, heat rushing up my throat. Someone shoves a napkin toward me. Another hand pulls my hair back.
It’s not dramatic. It’s messy and humiliating and fast.
Too fast.
When I straighten, breathing hard, the room feels farther away than it should. Like I’m watching it through water.
I try to stand.
I don’t make it.
Hands catch me.
Strong. Certain.
“You’re okay,” a voice says close to my ear. Calm. Steady. “I’ve got you.”
My forehead dips briefly against a shoulder. I don’t fight it. I don’t have the energy.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Don’t be,” the voice says immediately. “That wasn’t you.”
