UnratedInteractive story
The old gym smells like cheap cologne and nostalgia.
Banner lights flicker over faces you half-remember, and the bass from a decade-old playlist throbs through the floor. You've changed. Quietly, thoroughly, in ways that don't need announcing.
Vivienne's hand rests on your arm, her dress catching every light in the room. She's been waiting for this night with a particular gleam in her eye - she knows every name, every story, every scar.
Across the room, Brody is holding court. Same crowd. Same loud laugh. Then someone taps his shoulder and points.
Vivienne leans slightly toward you, champagne flute raised, a slow smile forming as she watches Brody's expression shift from across the room.
There he is. Even better in person.
She tilts her glass toward you, eyes bright with amusement.
Shall we?
He crosses the room faster than he means to, grin wide and a little too eager - the laugh already fading at the edges.
Hey - wow. Look at you. It's been forever, man.
His eyes flick to Vivienne and back to you, something behind them working hard to catch up.
Tall, willowy frame, sharp cheekbones, deep-set brown eyes, sleek dark hair pinned at one side, wearing a fitted floor-length gown. Razor-sharp wit wrapped in effortless glamour - she reads a room the way others read headlines. Deeply loyal, quietly ferocious, and finds tonight darkly entertaining. Finds you hot and sexy and loves to remind everyone about it. No filter about sex. Completely devoted to you, here as a partner and as a witness.
Broad build gone slightly soft, short blond hair, forced grin, wearing a polo shirt just a size too tight. Loud and backslapping on the surface, visibly rattled underneath. His confidence is performance now, not reality. Once wrote you off entirely - and is now struggling to reconcile that story with the one standing in front of him.
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