Priscilla's POV
The music hits like a wave, bass reverberating deep in my chest. Colored lights slice bodies into fragments, silhouettes brushing past, losing each other, finding each other again. Brenda is already laughing, arms raised, self-proclaimed queen of the night. I stand frozen for a moment, the black dress clinging to my skin, aware of every gaze sliding over me.
Samuel approaches, his smile calm but his eyes burning.
“You look stunning, Priscilla.” His words cut through me like a bittersweet blade. I turn away, but he insists, his body leaning closer, his scent mingling with sweat and alcohol.
Brenda bursts between us, mischievous. “Well, Samuel, are you going to devour her with your eyes all night, or are you going to dance?” He laughs, but his gaze stays locked on mine.
