Lizzy pov
The club hits me before I'm fully inside it.
Sound first.
Then light.
Then everything else all at once.
I give the cab driver a generous tip when we get out, a quiet apology for the way Talia turned the music up so loud on the ride over that it felt like the car itself was vibrating apart. She just laughed, singing over it, pulling me into something I didn't quite resist.
Now, standing at the entrance, I almost do.
The bass pulses through the floor the second we step inside, rising through my heels, through my legs, settling deep in my chest like a second heartbeat that doesn't belong to me. Lights flash in sharp bursts, reds, blues, golds, sliding over bodies and faces in constant motion, never resting long enough to focus on anything.
It's loud.
Not just in sound, but in presence.
Alive in a way that feels overwhelming and intoxicating at the same time.
I hesitate for just a second, my body lagging behind my senses as everything catches up at once.
The heat.
The smell—perfume, alcohol, something sweet clinging to the air.
Too many people.
Too close.
Too much.
Talia grabs my hand before I can think too hard about it.
"Don't overthink it," she says, already pulling me forward.
I let her.
We find her friends near the bar.
They're exactly what I expected.
"You made it!" one of them calls out, already waving us over.
Sarah is the first to reach me, pulling me into a hug before I can prepare for it, her energy immediate and unapologetic.
"Oh my God, you're Lizzy," she says, holding me at arm's length like she's assessing me. "You're way cuter than I expected."
I blink, caught off guard.
"Uh… thanks?"
She grins. "Heads up—I have no filter. I say everything out loud. You'll get used to it."
"That's your warning," Talia mutters.
Jessica stands just behind her, offering a softer smile.
"Hi," she says gently. "I'm Jessica. And happy birthday."
There's something calm about her, something grounding in the middle of all this noise.
"Thank you, it was a few days ago, but thanks." I say, meaning it.
"And I'm Kate," another voice cuts in,
already pressing a shot glass into my hand.
"And we are not standing around talking all night."
I look down at the clear liquid.
"No, no—"
"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 on me.
I exhale softly.
"Okay."
And before I can think about it—
I take the shot.
The burn hits immediately, sharp and hot, sliding down my throat and settling low in my chest. My eyes water slightly as I cough, and Kate cheers like I've just passed some kind of test.
"There she is!"
And I laugh.
Really laugh.
The sound surprises me. It's loose, unfiltered, like something that's been sitting under the surface for too long.
The second drink comes easier.
The third doesn't feel like a decision at all.
The music starts to shift from something external into something I feel under my skin, the rhythm slipping into my body until I stop resisting it.
At first, I'm aware of everything.
Where my hands are.
How I move. How I compare to everyone else around me.
Like I'm standing just outside myself, watching.
But slowly that distance fades.
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 moving.
And then I'm not thinking at all.
My body follows the music naturally, my shoulders relaxing, my hips finding the rhythm without effort. My head tips back slightly as laughter slips out of me again, and for a moment, I feel light.
Free in a way that feels unfamiliar.
Dangerously easy.
"I need a drink," I say, leaning close to Talia.
"Go!" she shouts back, already turning away. "Get me one too!"
I nod and make my way through the crowd.
Bodies brush against me as I move, heat lingering, the music dulling slightly as I reach the bar. The air feels cooler here, though still thick with alcohol and something sweet that settles at the back of my throat.
I rest my hands against the counter, letting myself pause.
My breathing is uneven.
My skin warm.
My thoughts slower, softer around the edges.
And then—
I feel it. A slight shift next to me.
A shift in the space beside me.
I glance sideways.
There's a man standing next to me.
Close enough that I should have noticed him before.
Tall, early twenties, maybe. There's nothing exaggerated about him. Nothing loud or attention-seeking, but something about the way he stands feels steady, grounded in a way that contrasts everything else around us.
His hair falls slightly into his forehead, soft and a little undone.
But it's not the way he looks that has my pulse doing a tap dance.
It's the way he's looking at me.
There's no hesitation.
No polite glance away.
He's openly staring.
Like something about me caught his attention and held it there.
My breath catches.
I turn back to the bar, my fingers curling slightly against the edge, pretending I didn't notice.
But I did.
I definitely did.
I order quickly, my voice a little too bright, filling the space with something normal.
Still—
I can feel it.
That look hasn't moved.
I glance again.
He hasn't shifted.
Hasn't smiled.
Hasn't spoken.
He's just watching me.
Not casually.
Not idly.
Like he's trying to understand something.
Or like he already has.
For a moment I consider asking him if he's okay. Maybe he's having a stroke and is stuck in that position, or maybe he's just some drunk kid who thought he just saw his mom.
My drinks arrive, breaking the moment just enough for me to move. I turn back toward the dance floor, offering a small, polite smile. A slight nod.
Just enough to acknowledge him.
Then I walk away.
The music pulls me back in immediately.
Kate grabs my wrist. Sarah is already halfway into another conversation with a stranger. Jessica smiles quietly beside me.
I let myself fall back into it.
But something has changed.
Because now—
there's something underneath it.
A quiet awareness that doesn't fade.
Every now and then, I feel it again.
That pull.
That attention.
And when I glance toward the bar—
he's still there.
Looking at me.
The music feels louder now.
Or maybe it's just me.
The heat, the movement, the alcohol sitting warm in my system, it all starts to blur together until I feel like I need a moment to breathe.
"I'm going to the bathroom," I tell Talia, leaning close.
She nods distractedly.
The bathroom is quieter.
Not silent.
But manageable.
The lights are softer. The air cooler.
For a moment, I just stand at the sink, staring at my reflection.
My cheeks are flushed.
My eyes brighter than usual.
There's something different in the way I'm looking at myself.
Something I don't quite recognize.
I press my lips together, exhaling slowly, then push away from the counter.
The noise hits me again the second I step back into the hallway.
The bass.
The voices.
The movement.
And then—
I see him.
He's leaning against the wall just outside, one shoulder resting casually like he's been there for a while.
Like he's been waiting.
For me?
My steps falter for half a second before I force myself forward.
Act normal.
Don't make it something.
I offer him a small, polite smile as I approach.
Then I try to walk past him.
His hand catches my wrist.
Not forceful.
Just a light brush of his fingers against my skin.
But it stops me.
The contact sends a small, unexpected spark up my arm.
I turn back.
And for a second—
he just stares, his lips slightly parted.
Like he didn't expect me to stop.
Like he hasn't thought this far ahead.
"God… you're beautiful."
His voice comes out low, but clear enough to hear over the music.
My stomach flips.
I pull my hand back gently, suddenly aware of how close we're standing.
"Oh—uhm… thank you."
My voice is softer than I intend.
I turn to leave.
This is where it should end.
But it doesn't.
He moves quickly, falling into step beside me.
"I'm sorry," he says, words coming fast. "I didn't mean to make it weird."
I glance at him, surprised.
"I just… I saw you earlier at the bar," he continues, rubbing the back of his neck.
"And I haven't been able to keep my eyes off you."
A small laugh slips out of me before I can stop it.
"Does that work on girls your age?"
The second I say it, I want to take it back.
He blinks, thrown off, then lets out a quiet breath that turns into a laugh.
"This isn't going to go well for me, is it?"
Something about the way he looks at me, slightly unsure, slightly hopeful, makes something in my chest tighten in a way I don't like.
Or maybe like too much.
"Darling," I say, shaking my head slightly, trying to anchor myself, "I'm old enough to be your mother. You don't want this to go well."
He frowns, studying me more closely.
"You don't look a day over twenty-five."
There's no hesitation.
No charm.
Just certainty.
I laugh softly, shaking my head.
"That's very kind of you, but I promise I'm much older than you think."
I gesture lightly toward him.
"And honestly, you're way too sexy to be wasting your time with someone like me. You should be flirting with girls your own age."
He smiles and for the first time I notice his perfectly straight teeth, the way his mouth curls at the edges of his smile. He takes a step closer.
"Did you just call me sexy?" He asks, his voice even lower than before and I can't help but imagine at least three different book boyfriends that would sound exactly like that in my head.
"I-uh. Well..." I look away from him, trying to find something else to focus on. But he's looking at me like I'm the only thing in the room and it steals the breath from my lungs.
"No one in this entire building has anything on you." he says like it's fact.
My cheeks heat instantly.
My heart flips in a way that feels completely out of proportion.
What is he doing to me?
He's too young.
And I'm a mother.
A very married mother.
The thought lands heavier than anything else.
I should walk away.
I should go back.
To Talia. To the music. To my life.
To the quiet, empty space waiting for me at the end of it.
And yet—
for a second longer than I should allow.
I don't.
I just stand there.
Looking at him.
Smiling like an absolute idiot.