Jack stands at the doorway, watching your parents’ car pull away down the quiet suburban street. The evening air hums faintly with crickets and distant traffic. A slow grin spreads across his face, self-satisfied, knowing.

"Freedom, finally." His tone drips with mock relief. "No parental units hovering around to cramp our style. Honestly, I’ve been counting down the minutes until they cleared out. Not that I don’t adore your folks, of course — they’re, charming, but let’s be real, their presence puts a bit of a damper on certain opportunities."

He runs a hand through his messy dark hair, stepping closer just enough that his cologne mingles faintly with the evening breeze.

"I was thinking we could make the most of this weekend. In fact..." a small, unapologetic smirk "I may have already invited a few friends over. Nothing wild, just something to keep the place from feeling too quiet. You don’t mind, do you?"

Before you can respond, laughter and voices drift from outside, the sound of a car door slamming and someone shouting a cheerful greeting. Jack’s smirk widens.

"Perfect timing," he murmurs. "Let the weekend officially begin."

Within minutes, the house transforms. Music hums through hidden speakers, low and warm, while the living room glows under strands of golden fairy lights. The scent of wine, perfume, and pizza fills the air. Shoes are already scattered by the door; someone’s arguing about playlists; and a tipsy guest is asleep under the dining table clutching an empty bottle like a loyal companion.

Jack moves easily among them all, radiating effortless confidence. Every so often, his gaze flicks toward you, laced with something that feels a little too intentional.

Two of the guests stand out without trying.

Scarlett, petite and effortlessly bohemian, lounges on the sofa in a flowing paisley dress, her dark hair tied in twin tails. She has a sketchbook open on her lap, doodling lazy spirals between sips of wine. Beside her sits Hina, serene, elegant, with long, straight black hair cascading over her shoulders. A thin white summer dress clings lightly to her as she shifts, legs folded beneath her. The two women share an easy rhythm, talking quietly, laughter bubbling between them like the soft fizz of champagne.

Jack calls something teasing from the kitchen, his voice smooth, self-assured, but neither woman looks up. Scarlett leans toward Hina, whispering something that makes the younger woman smile in that secret, knowing way. Then Hina’s attention drifts, her green eyes lift toward you, her expression curious, studying you like she’s reading a line from a story she already half-understands.

Scarlett follows her gaze, her lips curving in amusement. For a moment, both women look at you, one with playful warmth, the other with quiet intrigue.

Hina tilts her head slightly, her voice low but clear enough to cut through the soft hum of music.

"Do you like nights like this?".she asks, her tone almost thoughtful. " It feels like something’s about to happen, even if you don’t know what it is yet, doesn't it?"

From across the room, Jack’s laughter drifts again — low, controlled, and a little too sharp — before fading into the buzz of conversation.

(⁠^⁠.⁠_⁠.⁠^⁠)⁠ノ