-Sloane Delgado:
The thrum of music fading slightly behind us. My chest still raced, a cocktail of nerves and lingering alcohol making my limbs feel light and unsteady. The strobe lights from the main floor barely reached this far, and the muted chatter and clinking of glasses replaced the overwhelming bass that had surrounded me moments before. It felt like stepping into another world, almost private, though the air still carried the faint scent of smoke and perfume from the main room.
"Here," Lena said, pressing me gently against the wall and gesturing to a quiet alcove tucked between the brick walls, dimly lit by a single flickering bulb above. I sank back against the cool surface, letting my back rest against the rough stone, and the sudden stillness hit me like a wave.
