Stranger danger

Liana’s POV

​Fourteen days.

​Fourteen long, agonizing mornings of waking up before the sun, reaching out with cold, trembling fingers for her phone, and pulling down on the screen to refresh her inbox. And every single time, without fail, the same clean, empty white space stared back at her.

​No interview invite. No polite rejection letter. Not even an automated confirmation that her email had landed in Marcus’s box.

​In the beginning, Liana had held onto a fragile, desperate kind of hope. 

On day three, she convinced herself that Marcus was simply a busy man running the executive office of the largest design house in the country. 

On day seven, she reasoned that a formal pitch review naturally took time. But by the middle of the second week, the painful truth settled deep into her bones, heavy and suffocating.

​Her email had been tossed straight into the digital trash pile. She had made an absolute fool of herself on wet grass, secured a black card out of Marcus’s sheer pity, and spent hours drafting a pitch that no one was ever going to read.

​It was over.

​A soft knock echoed against the bedroom door before it swung open. Nina stepped into the room, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. She took one look at Liana’s curled-up form, her messy hair, and the dark circles under her eyes, and let out a quiet, sympathetic sigh.

​"Still nothing?" Nina asked softly, walking over and setting one of the mugs on the nightstand.

​Liana didn't turn her head. "Nothing."

​Nina sat down on the edge of the mattress, resting a warm hand on Liana’s ankle. "Liana... maybe he’s just out of the country? Or maybe they’re reviewing portfolios for the whole seasonal launch at once?"

​"You don't have to sugarcoat it, Nina," Liana whispered, her voice tight, barely above a breath. "It’s been two weeks. If he was interested, he would have said something. I was stupid to think a five-minute conversation on a golf course was going to change anything."

​"You weren't stupid," Nina said firmly, her tone sharpening with protective fierce loyalty. "You were brave. You took a shot when most people would have run away."

​"And I missed," Liana said, finally looking over at her best friend. "I spent four years out of the industry, Nina. I thought if I just worked hard enough, if I showed up and pushed past the humiliation, I could build something real again."

​"Hey," Nina snapped gently, nudging her leg. "Stop that. Stop tearing yourself down."

​Liana looked down at her hands "I just... i wanted this so badly. For her. For us."

​Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the distant hum of morning traffic outside. Nina watched her for a long moment, then..

​"Okay," Nina said suddenly, clapping her hands together with a sharp snap that made Liana flinch. "That’s it. Dynamic shift."

​Liana blinked, confused. "What?"

​"You’ve been sulking in this room for four days," Nina declared, standing up and crossing her arms. "Your shoulders are practically glued to your ears, you look like you haven't seen sunlight in a month, and I am officially revoking your bed privileges for the evening."

​"Nina, please, I really don't feel like—"

​"I don't care what you feel like, ," Nina smirked, walking over to the closet and pulling the doors wide open. "We are going out tonight. No laptops, no checking emails, no talking about fashion executives, and zero talk about job applications."

​"Ava—"

​"Is spending the night with her favorite auntie Nina, who will arrange for a babysitter so both of us can get out of this house," Nina interrupted smoothly, pulling a sleek black dress from a hanger and tossing it onto the bed. 

"Put this on. We’re going to Luxe."

♤ ♤ ♤ ♤ ♤ ♤

​An hour later, the quiet depression of the bedroom was replaced by the deafening, bass-heavy pulse of the city’s most exclusive nightclub.

​The atmosphere inside Luxe was thick, dark, and electric. White and violet strobe lights cut through the light fog hanging over the dance floor, vibrating straight through the hardwood floors and into Liana’s chest. The air smelled of expensive perfume, crushed ice, and citrus spirits.

​Liana sat on a high velvet barstool near the main bar, her dark dress accentuating her slim frame, her dark hair falling over her shoulders in soft, effortless waves. She looked stunning—a natural head-turner—but inside, she still felt detached, like a spectator watching a scene unfold from behind glass.

​Nina leaned over the loud music, cupping her hand around Liana’s ear. "I need to hit the restroom!" she shouted, holding up three fingers. 

"Omg Nina, we just got here!"

Liana responded, looking slightly offended

" Just stay right here! Give me like, two minutes, please, And don't let anyone steal my seat!"

​Liana sighed, one of resignation and nodded. "Go! I’ll be right here!"

​She watched Nina disappear into the moving sea of bodies on the main floor. Once her friend was out of sight, Liana turned back to the bar, swirling the ice cubes in her cocktail, listening to the soft clink against the crystal glass.

​The club was wild, loud, and bursting with energy, but as Liana sat alone on her stool, her thoughts drifted right back to the empty inbox on her phone. She let out a long, quiet breath, resting her cheek against her palm.

​"Mind if I buy your next one?"

​The voice was smooth, carrying a heavy, artificial charm that sliced straight through the ambient noise.

​Liana turned her head slowly, her eyes landing on a man who had just slid onto the vacant barstool right beside her.