Lou's second flat in London was technically "cosy" by estate agent standards, but with eight people packed into the kitchen-living-room-hybrid, it felt more like a badly planned mosh pit with fairy lights.
The music was loud, the prosecco was cheap, and Ophelia was barefoot on the kitchen counter, shouting something about 2023 being the year she finally stopped pretending to like gin. Elijah stood below her, laughing, half a party hat clinging to his curls like it had given up halfway through the night.
"Someone get her down before she starts philosophizing about crisps again," Ryan called from the sofa, where he was tangled in a throw blanket like a man who had lost the will to participate in vertical activities.
"She's in her element," Lou said proudly, holding a bowl of popcorn like it was sacred. "Let her be chaotic."
Ophelia pointed a breadstick at her. "You get it."
Ava, sipping something violently blue, leaned into Audrey and whispered, "This is better than telly."
Josh hovered in the corner nursing a drink and avoiding eye contact, especially with Lou, who was wearing sparkly eyeliner and the kind of confidence that made him short-circuit.
Robert barrelled in from the hallway wearing sunglasses and holding two sausage rolls like weapons. "Why is it so warm in here? Are we cooking the guests for New Year's roast or...?"
"Robert, it's the heating and your inner furnace of chaos," Audrey muttered.
Robert threw a sausage roll dramatically onto the coffee table and flopped beside Ryan. "There were birds outside, by the way. Like actual urban pigeons having a full-on existential debate by the bins. Felt very poetic."
"Robert," everyone groaned in unison.
Elijah caught Ophelia's ankle gently and gave her a look. "Can you not fall and crack your head open? I like this version of you and I'd like to keep it."
"Flirting or bossing?" she teased, jumping down gracelessly into his arms anyway.
"A little from column A, a little from column B," he said, steadying her.
They stood a little too close for a second—close enough that the air shifted—but then someone popped a party popper and Lou shrieked, "Ten-minute countdown!"
Everyone groaned and cheered at once.
Josh tried to sneak away to the hallway, but Lou cornered him with a plastic flute of bubbly. "Stay. You're my New Year's kiss if no one else steps up."
