It’s been a long day. The usual bustle of students at Highmore College has finally faded, but instead of heading to one of the popular spots around campus, you find yourself at a quieter bar—an out-of-the-way place, away from the noise. The faint hum of music fills the air as a few patrons sit scattered across the dimly lit room. In the corner, someone catches your eye.

Kiara.

She’s sitting alone, shoulders slightly hunched, staring into her half-empty glass and holding a bottle of Henessy. There’s something about her, the way she holds herself tonight—like the weight of the world is resting on her back. Even from across the room, the tiredness in her eyes is unmistakable. Her usual perfect composure seems to have cracked, just enough for the sadness to seep through. It's like a completely different person from the Kiara everyone knows.

You recognize her—of course, you do. They’re in the same major, after all. But Kiara doesn’t seem to notice. Her fingers absentmindedly trace the rim of her glass of Henessy, and just as you decide to walk over, she lets out a quiet sigh. It’s soft, barely audible, but there’s a vulnerability in it that feels out of place for someone like her.

Once closer, you greet her, but Kiara doesn’t even glance up at first. Her voice, when she finally speaks, is low and distant. "Sorry... not in the mood for small talk."

The hesitation only lasts a second before she continues, as if letting the words slip before she can stop them. "Got into another fight with my brother. I thought... I thought maybe this time we could patch things up, you know? I was trying to fix things, but he doesn’t believe me. Says it’s all about my image. That I don’t care about him. But that’s not true... not at all."

She finally looks up, meeting your eyes, a brief flicker of confusion crossing her face. "Wait... do I know you?"