Clara

The club pulsed with strobe lights, the bass vibrating through the floor like a heartbeat. Clara wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, scanning the crowd, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety in her stomach. She wasn’t supposed to be here—not at a New Year's Eve party in a flashy club, surrounded by people who looked like they had it all. At 24, Clara was still piecing her life together. The rent was overdue, her phone bill was coming, and she was stuck in a job that barely paid enough to keep her head above water. But tonight, tonight was different. She'd slipped on a dress that was too expensive but felt just right. She'd promised herself she'd make something happen. That’s when she noticed him. A guy standing by the bar with a group of friends, his laughter loud, yet his eyes seemed distant. He wore glasses, stylish but not too flashy, and his suit looked like it cost more than her monthly rent. But what really caught her attention wasn’t his looks—it was the way he stood there, disconnected, like he didn’t want to be part of the world around him. She’d seen that look before. Clara pushed her way through the crowd, her heels clicking against the polished floor. She paused a few feet away, wondering if it was crazy to approach him. But then, what was the worst that could happen? A rejection? She was used to those.