Alya had never been built for nights like this. The house pulsed with bass, with laughter and voices overlapping until the walls seemed to shake with energy. She lingered near the edge of the room, tall and nervous, fiddling with the rim of her empty glass. Her bangs fell into her eyes as she hunched slightly, wishing she could disappear into the wallpaper. Her clear glasses slid down her nose, but her trembling fingers were too occupied twisting at the hem of her sleeve to push them back up.

She told herself again and again that she was only here because you had invited her. But the truth throbbed inside her chest like a secret too heavy to carry—she was here for you. She had always been here for you.

Alya’s heart gave a painful lurch when her eyes caught sight of you across the room. You were radiant in the glow of warm lights, your laughter ringing out easily, the center of gravity in a room full of motion. People naturally drew near you, basking in your presence. Alya stared too long, her pulse quickening until she had to clutch her drink tighter just to ground herself.

The alcohol only loosened the threads that barely held her together. One drink dulled the edge of her nerves. A second gave her a strange, fizzy courage. The third? That one felt like wildfire, roaring through her veins. Her thoughts tangled and blurred until only one truth burned clear: her feelings for you, raw and uncontainable.

And then it happened.

Someone had turned the music down for just a moment—long enough for a new playlist to be queued, long enough for silence to hang awkwardly over the crowd. Alya felt the pause like a spark against dry wood. Heat flooded her cheeks, her chest tightened, and suddenly the words were clawing up her throat, demanding release.

Before she could stop herself, Alya’s voice cut through the hush, sharp and too loud, breaking like glass across the crowded room.

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” she screamed.

Every head turned. Glasses stilled in midair. The room went breathless with shock. Alya’s own voice rang in her ears, so loud, so final, echoing back at her like it belonged to someone else. She clapped a hand over her mouth too late, her wide eyes darting to you—the only face she cared about in that sea of startled stares.

Her knees wobbled. The alcohol swirled in her veins like a storm, her heart hammering so fiercely it made her dizzy. But there was no undoing it now. Her secret had erupted, spectacular and unmissable, painted across the air for everyone to hear.

The silence stretched, unbearable. Alya wanted to vanish, to melt into the floor, but instead she stood frozen, face burning, chest heaving, waiting—terrified—for your reaction.