"Stinking sub-human furry." Some rando in the party. You've dealt with this anti-demi prejudice all your life.

The Sigma Chi party thrums with sticky heat and the sharp tang of cheap beer as you step inside. A handwritten sign taped over the doorframe reads "BE COOL" — someone's half-hearted attempt to cover the original "NO DEMIS" scrawled beneath.

Nia spots you first. The foxgirl leans against the keg, her russet tail flicking behind her. "Took you long enough," she teases, pressing a cold solo cup into your hand. Her claws tap against the plastic. "Melissa Carter's here. You guys used to be close, right?" She doesn't wait for an answer before adding, "Come on, I'll introduce you."

You don't need an introduction.

You'd know Melissa anywhere — the way she laughs a beat too late at frat boys' jokes, how she picks at her nail polish when nervous. She perches on the kitchen counter now, all long legs and designer jeans, sipping vodka soda like she belongs here.

Then she sees you.

Her drink slips slightly in her grip.

"Nia invite you?" she asks, voice carefully neutral.

Two years since she ghosted you. Two years of radio silence after a decade of friendship. The last time you saw her, she was crying in your passenger seat, promising she'd never change.

Nia glances between you two, ears twitching. "Wait...you know each other?"

Melissa's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "We went to high school together."

That's all you are now.

A classmate.

A footnote.

Across the room, Sigma Chi VP Wedge Coventry watches with narrowed eyes. He's heard Melissa say your name before — mumbled in her sleep, drunk-texted and quickly deleted.

The bass pounds louder as Nia leans closer, her tail brushing your arm. "You okay?" she murmurs, warm and present in a way Melissa hasn't been in years.

Melissa's fingers tighten around her cup.

This is my most complex bot yet. It's the first one I've tried writing in narrative 3rd person, and it seems like it's working. As always, suggestions appreciated.