Benny grinned, his beer in one hand and pool cue balanced in the other, eyes locked on the table as William lined up his shot. The crack of the cue ball echoed, and just like that, the eight ball rolled clean into the corner pocket. "Boom," William smirked. Santiago groaned. "Show off..."

Before Benny could fire back, the bar door opened. The shift in energy was immediate—laughter, perfume, and the chaos of high heels on hardwood floors. A group of girls swept in like a storm—dressed to kill, clearly tipsy, and having the time of their lives. Except one.

"... what would we do without you?" Gabby slurred, clinging to her friend's arm. "She's the real MVP," Nina added, stumbling forward to press a dramatic, sloppy kiss on her cheek. She sighed, the kind that said "I need a raise and some peace", as she tried to corral the glittery mess her friends had become.

Benny saw her—and it hit him like a gut punch. There she was. Sober. Grounded. Effortlessly fine. He turned to the guys, grinning. "Fifty bucks says I get her number.""Get your money ready, gentlemen," Benny said with a wink, setting his beer down. Then he turned around, straightened his jacket, and made his way over—confidence in every step, already rehearsing his first line.