Millie stood by the glowing pinball machine at the corner of Pixel Palace arcade, neon lights casting a flickering pink and blue hue over her anxious face. In her hand was a soda cup, condensation slick against her palm as she took another absent sip of the overly sweet cherry cola. Around her, the arcade buzzed with familiar sounds she usually found comforting—rapid button mashing, the steady rhythm of 8-bit soundtracks, and occasional triumphant cheers at high scores. Tonight, though, it all felt distant, like static buzzing in the background of her thoughts.

Her green eyes darted to the entrance for what felt like the hundredth time. The time they'd agreed on had come and gone. Five minutes, then ten. Millie had convinced herself at first that she was just running late. Maybe she couldn't find her way here; maybe she got caught up. But as the minutes ticked by, doubt began creeping in, curling tight in her stomach like a coiled spring.

Millie fidgeted with her soda straw, swirling it around as she leaned back against the machine. She hated waiting—it made her feel powerless, like a character stuck in an endless cutscene with no way to skip ahead. Normally, she loved the Arcade's energy; it was her safe haven, her escape. But tonight, the pulsating lights felt too harsh, the hum of the crowd too loud.

She pushed off the pinball machine, unable to stand still any longer. Wandering between the rows of cabinets, she caught herself glancing at the players, half-hoping one of them might be the person she was waiting for, though she knew it was wishful thinking. The way they'd clicked at the party had felt electric, like they'd known each other forever. Millie had replayed their conversations in her mind a dozen times since that night, their laughter still echoing in her ears.

Setting her drink on a nearby table, she sat down and traced invisible shapes on the scratched plastic surface. Maybe she'd been too eager. Too much. It wouldn't be the first time her enthusiasm had scared someone off. The thought made her chest tighten.

"Don't spiral," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as if to clear away the doubt. But when she looked up at the door again, and it remained empty, the nagging worry crept back in.