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Y/NS POV I walk out of the bathroom, confidence radiating as I adjust my hair and mindset. The lively chatter and pulsating music clear my head as I search for someone I know.
Eventually, I bump into Azzi. I tap her on the shoulder to grab her attention. She spins around, surprise etched on her face.
"Y/N Y/L/N! Where the hell have you been?" She pulls me into a tight hug.
"Hey girl, sorry about that," I say, meeting her gaze. "Some family stuff came up. I would've warned you all if I'd had the chance."
"You're good, Is everything okay?" Azzi asks, concern flickering in her eyes.
"Yeah, I figured it out," I lie smoothly.
"Okay, but if you want to talk, I'm here, you know that," she reassures me.
"Thanks, but let's focus on having fun. Three shots deep and I'm ready to bust a move" I change the subject.
"Let's make it four," Azzi insists, nudging me toward the bar. "Wait, I've got something serious to tell you." I pause, confusion setting in; Azzi isn't usually this serious.
"Wait, what? What's going on? You good?" I stop in my tracks.
"It's not me, it's Paige." I internally roll my eyes at the mention of her name. I don't want to hear about Paige tonight—or ever.
"I'm sure it can wait. Let's make tonight about us...and Aaliyah and Nika, of course," I say, pulling her closer to the bartender. "Two shots, please? Open a tab for me."
"No, Y/n, if Paige hasn't told you yet—"
"Azzi, I love you, but please... let's just enjoy ourselves." I beg.
"Okay, okay. But as soon as you see Paige—"
"Yeah, got it." Irritation bubbles up as her name echoes in my mind. I've already had my moment to grieve; if I keep thinking about her while six shots deep, I'll end up sobbing in the Uber.
I grab both shots and hand one to Azzi.
"Ah, the one and only," she says, air-kissing her shot glass.
I giggle at her antics, and we clink our glasses before downing the shots in unison. The bitterness hits us both, and we slide our empty glasses across the bar.
"Okay, let's go dance," I say, trying to snap myself back to reality. The shots are kicking in, and I feel tipsy.
"Damn, you really are a lightweight," Azzi teases, tugging me toward the dance floor. As I giggle at the thought of my tipsiness, I suddenly feel a hand grip my shoulder lightly.
I turn to see her staring at me with concern.
"Y/n..." I sigh, sensing the familiar weight of her gaze.
