𝐑 𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄?¹ - juan soto

5.

for the first time in weeks, lyra let herself have an off night. and somehow, samantha, her friend since her columbia days, had convinced her to come over to her apartment to get ready to join her at some swanky club in manhattan.

lyra laid on samantha's bed, leaning on her excess of throw pillows and blankets and staring out the window of her harlem apartment. she hummed along to the faith evans song playing on her speaker.

"can we just stay home and watch soul food or something?" she groaned, rolling on her back.

samantha stood over her, putting her hands on her hips, "are you serious? we watch that movie every time i see you! after all of the drama with juan soto, you don't want to let that stress out?"

lyra put her hands over her face, staring at samantha's ceiling, "fuck no. and don't mention juan."

samantha laughed, "come on, we could dress up!"

lyra sat up and stared at her, defensive."hey! my outfit would be fine right now!"

"you have to stop dressing like you're going to a pta meeting every time you go out. what happened to your outfits from college?"

lyra rolled her eyes, "i grew up." was what she said, but in reality she missed the days she was more experimental with her clothing. though, her job required her to dress more conservatively to climb the ranks, and it seeped into her personal life. she looked down at her white button down and jeans in dissatisfaction.

samantha sat next to her, "come on, ly, you work too much. one night, no notepads, no baseball. just heels, cocktails, and maybe a bad decision... just like old times." she stared up at lyra, giving her puppy eyes.

lyra rolled her eyes. when was the last time she went out and it had nothing to do with work? "fine."

samantha bounced up, "yes! don't worry babe, i'll find you the best outfit ever."

she rushed to her clothing rack, quickly sifting through her dresses. she threw one at lyra, "this is perfect. put it on!"

when lyra walked back out with the dress on, samantha screamed. "you are so hot." she grinned, unable to take her eyes as off her as lyra approached the mirror.

lyra adjusted the shimmering tiger-striped dress, its sheer, airy fabric catching the light as it clung delicately to her figure. the metallic accents sparkled, adding a touch of boldness to the playful yet elegant design. it was short, barely grazing her thighs, with a flowy, asymmetrical cut that made her legs seem endless. she ran her hands over the fine material, its glitzy texture so unlike her usual wardrobe. for a moment, she felt like a stranger in her own skin—but as her reflection stared back, she couldn't deny the quiet confidence that started to surface.

samantha chuckled, "you know you're hot too." lyra let out an awkward laugh. samantha continued, "and the fresh silk press? you're dangerous girl."

lyra got nervous, running her fingers through her hair. she had recently taken out her braids, opting to straighten it out of pure curiosity for what it would look like. she stared at herself, satisfied with her new look. for once she wasn't 'lyra larosa: the journalist' she was just lyra, one of many 24 year olds in new york city. she smiled.

samantha quickly stood up, "okay, give me a sec to change, and then i'm ready!"

✎ 𓂃

the manhattan club was alive with chaos, a blend of flashing neon lights, pounding bass, and the hum of a crowd teetering between glamorous and wild. lyra followed samantha inside, gripping her clutch a little tighter than usual.