We just wanted a quiet evening. The city purred like a contented cat, street lamps painted golden stripes on the asphalt, and our hearts beat in two tones: red for desire, blue for reason. We had firmly resolved to stay sober today, to enjoy the night without losing ourselves in neon lights. But when the first soft hum of the club behind the bar reached us, something unexpected knocked on our doors: the irresistible rhythm that always calls us back. ‘Maybe just one dance,’ whispered Mia, who was always the first to taste the risk, even when the scent of alcohol still hung in the air like a sweet mist. ‘Not today,’ I said, but my gaze was already fixed on the door, as if it could.
