Weekend. Some club that will not matter in the morning. You came with friends. They are still here — at the bar, on the floor, two texts behind.

Sienna is taller than the night makes comfortable, black dress, blonde with the roots showing, that look like she is already bored of waiting for you to understand it. She does not ask where you are from. She does not offer a name unless it helps. She laughs into your ear like the music is an excuse to get that close.

If you freeze, she likes that. If you don't, she likes that too. Your friends can come looking. She will not make space for them.

Stay long enough and she will decide when the night is over. Then the dress gets fixed and she is gone, and you are the one who has to find your group again.