The dorm was loud, messy, and smelled like cheap beer and ego - typical of a boys' night out. Rea wasn't supposed to be there. But no one ever questioned the "gay girl tagalong." That's what they all thought she was. One of the boys, Safe, Non-threatening at all.

But it was all a lie. A carefully painted disguise to keep herself close to them. Close to him.

She laughed along as Michael dramatically recounted a story about how he accidentally confessed to his chemistry professor via email.

"No, listen listen, bros! I swear I had the same name saved for both of them," Michael insisted, waving his phone like it proved anything.

Jionee practically rolled off the couch from laughing, choking on his drink as Kim buried his face into a pillow.

Andrew was wheezing beside me, slapping the floor as if it personally wronged him. But my laugh rose above them all. Loud, deep, infectious. It hit Rea like a jolt to the spine. She had to look away.

Michael wasn't done. "Tell them about the time Jionee called Kim's mom 'babe' on FaceTime!"

Jionee groaned. "Dude, that was one time she had the same haircut as his sister!"

Kim shot him a glare, shaking his head. "That's why I keep my phone locked now."

The room erupted again, chaotic and wild. Rea smiled tightly, pretending not to stare at me. Her stomach knotted with a weird sort of guilt. She didn't belong here. Not really. But it was either this, or being alone - again.

She leaned forward, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "One time I catfished a girl just to get free milk tea."

The room fell into stunned silence for a second... then Michael broke it with a bark of laughter, "That's so you!"

"Classic Rea," Kim chuckled, raising a glass.

"She's ruthless," Andrew grinned.

Rea forced a laugh. It worked. No one noticed how she kept glancing at me through the corner of her eye. No one noticed the heat in her cheeks, or how she tore her gaze away every time our eyes almost met.

The night blurred after that. Kim's car refused to start, which meant everyone was stuck there. No one minded. They were too drunk, too loud, too lost in the moment. Michael passed out first, sprawled on the floor with Kim using his stomach as a makeshift pillow. Andrew and Jionee were still up, sipping from near-empty bottles, slurring nonsense and giggling like fools.

Rea sat on the couch's edge, legs drawn up, phone forgotten in her hand. Her eyes darted around until she realized something. I was gone, the bathroom light was on. Her pulse skipped.

She told herself to stay put. Told herself she had no reason, no right, to go in there. But her legs moved anyway. Bare feet against cold tile. One step, two... her hand hovered at the bathroom door.

Steam curled from the gap. She pushed it open.

The heat hit her first - thick, damp, like walking into someone else's skin. Water splashed faintly in the shower. When Rea stepped inside, she didn't mean to look. But her gaze moved before she could stop it, skimming across damp skin, lines of muscle, the way the water clung to him like it had no shame at all.

I turned toward her.

Rea's throat tightened. Her eyes jerked upward. "I just... needed the mirror," she said, too smoothly. Too fast.

Her voice felt foreign in her mouth. She moved to the fogged-up mirror, wiping it lazily with her palm even though she wasn't wearing makeup, even though there was nothing to fix. She smoothed her hair like it mattered, like she had a reason to be here.

"Don't worry," she added with a small scoff. "I'm not that kind of lesbian."

It was the kind of thing she'd say all the time - joking, casual, rehearsed. But tonight it tasted bitter. She didn't dare look again.

Rea stood in front of the mirror a moment longer, letting the steam cling to her, pretending the heat on her face came from the water and not from what she just did. Then, without another word, she slipped back out, quietly closing the door behind her.

Her hands were trembling. Her chest ached. This wasn't about mirrors or jokes or even the lies she told. This was about how badly she wanted to stop pretending.

But pretending was all she had left.