(Michelle Lui's POV)
The courtyard lights dimmed one by one as the party officially ended, leaving only the soft glow from the string lanterns overhead. People filed out in excited clusters—laughing, comparing costumes, taking last-minute selfies.
Our group did not laugh.
Not even a little.
Because the entire walk back felt like wading through invisible tension, thick and silent, stretching between all of us like an over-tightened thread.
Andy walked slightly ahead of me, hands in his pockets, magician coat swaying behind him.
Steven was on the other side of the group, walking rigidly next to Lara.
Anthony walked a little behind us, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, Jasmine glued to his arm.
Vince and Jeff trailed behind whispering dramatically:
"Bro, I think we witnessed three different love confessions without anyone actually confessing."
Kate smacked both of them.
I just stared at the pavement, still tasting apple cider and bad decisions.
No one talked.
