Rejected: Dangerous solace in the masked stranger

Lisa POV

The wine glass sweats in my hand, droplets sliding down like they want to escape as badly as I do. My fist locks around the stem, too tight, as if the glass can anchor me to this place. The stool beneath me creaks whenever I shift, reminding me how out of place I am in this glittering hall.

Thank my stars that every eye passes over me, not quite seeing me. I’m more like a piece of furniture in the room.

The room is too loud, too polished, too much. Crystal chandeliers dangle above like they’re laughing, scattering diamond shaped light across people who have never eaten without silver cutlery or worn anything that isn’t custom made. Their laughter comes sharp and easy, the kind that stings because I can never join in, no matter how hard I try.

And then my gaze finds him,

David, My boyfriend, My anchor,My undoing,

He sits at a round table near the center, where all the important people gather. His sharp suit fits him like a second skin, every detail so deliberate it’s almost cruel. He looks like he belongs here because he does.

And right beside him… Annette.

she smiles at basically anything he does , It lingers on him a second longer than necessary, a second that burns in my chest like acid. She tilts her head when he speaks, her earrings catching the light, her hand resting just a little too close to his arm.

i feel a sting at the sight of them, a twist in my gut, No,i shouldn't lose myself

This .....this is why David grows distant. Because I overthink it. Because I can’t be “easy” like the people he works with, why,why must i overthink everything,

He has loved me for three years, He gave me a job when no one else would. Me with nothing but a high school certificate and a string of failures, and now he has grown distant all because of the way i am, shouldn't i be grateful i have him ,

And still, here I sit, Stewing, Invisible,While he laughs with people who understands him. While I don’t. While I rot in the shadows because he hasn’t asked me to join him.

Maybe I can go to him. Catch up with his friends,

No, I shouldn’t,That will just make it worse,

But staying here, clinging to my glass like a ghost, makes me feel smaller by the second.

I stand. My heels click on the polished floor, too loud, announcing me when I want silence. Still, I make my way toward their table, pulse hammering at my throat.

There are many of them. David, of course. Annette beside him, leaning in as if she has rights. TThe rest of the table blurs into noise and movement, shadows I don’t bother to register.

“Lisa?” Annette, of course, spots me first, her grin twitching. “What are you doing here? I thought you were sitting over there.” She points behind me.

David’s head snaps in my direction. His expression blank. Almost unreadable, except for the flicker of something I recognize too well. That quiet, cutting question: Why are you here?

My confidence scatters. What makes me think I can walk up like I belong?

“Lisa,” David’s voice comes sharp, cold. “You heard her. Why didn’t you answer?”

I swallow, forcing a smile that trembles. “Ah… y-yes. I was just getting bored. Thought I’d come and find you.”

Annette’s lips curve, false concern dripping like venom. “Oh no. There are only five seats here, and we’re all taken. Where would you sit now?”

Her tone is sweet. Her eyes are knives.

I look at David, desperate for him to offer something anything. But he breaks our eye contact, staring down at the table instead. His lips twitch in a half smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah… it’s tricky,” he says casually. “You know how tight things get when we’re squeezed in. I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable. Especially you. You always handle this better than the rest of us.”

His words land like ice water down my back.

“Oh,” I whisper. My smile feels brittle, about to crack. “Right. Maybe I’ll just wait over there until it’s time to leave. The party’s nearly over anyway.”

“Yeah, sure.” David finally looks up, a fleck of emotion passing through his eyes. Relief no, maybe that’s just the overdone lights.

The ground wobbles beneath me as I turn away. My legs carry me back to the stool, though I no longer feel like I have legs at all.

Minutes pass like hours. My wine glass becomes the most fascinating thing in the world, its red surface swirling as I tilt it side to side. Anything to avoid glancing back at him. Anything to drown out Annette’s laugh, high and sharp.

But David’s words keep replaying. I just don’t want anyone to be uncomfortable. You handle this stuff better.

Is he right? Or am I twisting it? Why can’t I stop thinking? Why can’t I be normal just let things slide?

"flashback "

The straps of my backpack slip again, dragging at my arm. I sigh, ready to complain, but David yanks it off before I can.

“Don’t whine,” he snaps, the word sharper than it should be. He slings the bag over his other shoulder, now carrying both. “I’ll carry it.”

I laugh, trying to brush it off. “You’ll break your back.”

He doesn’t look at me. “Then stop being care less "Anyway… I don’t mind"

I don’t have time to untangle the thought before his voice comes again. “Lisa.”

I look up.

David stands beside me, his shadow falling across my lap. Annette lingers behind him, pale and weak, one hand pressing her forehead like she’s stepped out of a play.

“She’s not feeling well,” David says. His hand touches Annette’s arm, steadying her. “She doesn’t have a ride home. I’ll drop her off. Are you okay with that?”

The room tilts.

“Oh. Um. Sure,” I force myself to say. “You could just drop her off on the way, and then we—”

“No.” His voice cuts like a blade. “I can’t leave her alone. She’s sick.”

I blink. “But… What about her brother?

“Lisa.” His eyes harden. “Stop being childish. Do you want her to get worse because she’s alone? Take a cab. I’ll meet you at home.”

The kiss he presses against my cheek burns like a brand.

And then he is gone.

Just like that.

The glittering room spins. My breath comes short and sharp. My dress feels like it belongs to someone else, stitched too tight across skin that doesn’t fit me anymore.

Alone, I stumble toward the exit. The night air hits me like water after drowning. Cold. Fresh. Empty.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want him to look at me the way he used to, back in high school, when everything was simple and sweet and free. But those days are gone.

I reach for my phone. My Uber should be here by now. Instead, the screen flashes with a message from the company.

Sorry, ma’am. There’s a problem with your cab. No other options available.

Perfect. Just perfect.

The night stretches ahead, darker than the sky above. Guests are already gone, cars have scattered. I am alone. Completely alone.

I hug my arms around myself, forcing my feet forward. Maybe I’ll find a bus. Maybe a taxi. Maybe anything.

But the road is silent. Too silent.

No headlights. No engines. Just me, the crunch of gravel beneath my shoes, and the wind whispering through the tall grass like it knows something I don’t.

And then light.

Headlights curve around the bend, glowing brighter, swallowing the dark.

The car slows. Gravel crunches. The window slides down.

A face appears. Part of one. The rest hidden behind a dark mask that covers his mouth and nose. Only his eyes are visible.

They catch the weak light. Steady. Unreadable.

“Good evening, Lisa,” he says.

I freeze.

I have never told him my name.

--