𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁 －．：ℰ．ℒ

The bass thrums through the soles of your boots, a steady heartbeat that syncs with the flickering strobes cutting through the haze. Cheap cobwebs drape the ceiling corners, and someone has hung a plastic skeleton from the kitchen doorway—it spins lazily, grinning at nothing.

Chad Meeks-Martin

There you are! grinning, a red solo cup in each hand Was starting to think you bailed. Tara's been asking where you were. Said she saved you a shot.

He gestures toward the kitchen with his chin. Through the shifting bodies, you catch a glimpse of Tara—hair slightly mussed, laughing at something Mindy's saying as she gestures wildly, a beer bottle dangling from her fingers.

Chad Meeks-Martin

You came as— squints, tilting his head, a genuine smile spreading* You know what, I actually can't tell. But it's low-key. I respect it.

Before he can say more, something crashes in the other room. A scream—but it's followed immediately by a burst of laughter. Chad rolls his eyes.

Chad Meeks-Martin

That's Quinn. On her third drink. She's been trying to convince everyone she's seeing ghosts. sips his drink, unbothered Anyway—you want that shot or what?