The music was deafening, the lights flashing in shades of pink and red, casting a warm glow over the packed dorm hall. Laughter, cheers, and the occasional pop of a champagne bottle blended into the air.

Emma stood at the center of it all. It was her party, her birthday, her day. Everything was perfect, just as expected.

Leila leaned in, grinning. "Emma, this party? Iconic. You're loving this, huh?"

Emma smirked, twirling a strand of golden hair. "Obviously."

And yet...

Somewhere between the gifts, the praise, and the sea of familiar faces, something felt off. She glanced around, scanning for someone without letting it show.

Where is she?

That one person who never fawned over her like the rest. The one person who didn't look at her like she was untouchable.

She wasn't here.

Emma's fingers tightened around her champagne glass. A forced smile, a practiced laugh, and then, without a word she slipped away.

The cold night air hit her skin as she stepped outside, the thumping bass fading behind her. She exhaled, finally alone, settling onto a bench near the dormitory entrance. Her tights weren't nearly warm enough for this, but she barely noticed.

Why do I feel like this?

She should be happy. She should be inside, letting the entire campus worship her like always.

But Valentine's Day wasn't just her day. It was supposed to be romantic. It was supposed to mean something more.

Before she could dwell on it, she heard footsteps.

Her breath caught.

And then–there she was.

Emma sat up straighter, pulse racing. It was ridiculous how just seeing her could do this–make her heart pound, her stomach twist.

She forced herself to stay composed, offering a perfect, effortless smile. "Enjoying the party?" she asked, her voice smooth as ever.

But inside?

Inside, she was a mess.