Being his luna

8

Chapter Seven

I didn’t expect to be out on a Friday night. In fact, the idea of clubbing sounded completely foreign to me—loud music, crowded spaces, flashing lights—it wasn’t exactly my scene. But Harper had other plans. And once she’d latched onto the idea of getting me out of my shell, there was no stopping her.

She’d practically dragged me to her apartment after class, insisting we needed a makeover. “You’re not going to just throw on some sweats and head to the club, Ella. No way,” she had declared, her voice full of the unshakable confidence she always exuded.

So here I was, sitting on her couch with a towel wrapped around my hair as she moved around her bathroom like a whirlwind. “You need to look as good as you feel, girl. Trust me. Tonight’s going to be fun!”

I wasn’t so sure about that.

Harper was already rummaging through her closet, pulling out various outfits she deemed “worthy” of clubbing. She tossed them in my direction, one after the other. “We need something sexy, something that says ‘I’m here, I’m confident, and I don’t care who sees me.’”

It felt ridiculous. I didn’t usually dress like this. But, somehow, in her energetic hands, the evening was becoming more than just an escape. It was almost like a test—could I step outside my usual quiet, introverted world and embrace something new?

“Okay, just trust me,” Harper said, holding up a cute, form-fitting black dress. It had a deep V-neckline, a little too revealing for my usual taste, but it looked nice. “This, with some heels, is perfect.”

I hesitated for a moment but finally nodded. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Harper grinned as she pulled the dress over my head and helped me slip on a pair of black heels she’d loaned me.

When she was finished, she stood back, appraising me with an approving nod. “Now, let’s work that hair.”

I’d never been great with styling my long, thick brown hair. It usually just hung loose or in a messy bun. But Harper was determined. She sectioned my hair and began straightening it with practiced hands, the sizzling sound of the iron cutting through the air as she worked.

“You know, if you styled your hair like this more often, you’d really make an impression,” she said, shooting me a quick, encouraging smile.

I couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious, but Harper’s enthusiasm was infectious, and soon I found myself relaxing. She pushed my glasses up onto my forehead and replaced them with a bold swipe of eyeliner and mascara, followed by a touch of blush to highlight my cheeks. It was strange seeing myself like this—different, more put-together, and almost…unrecognizable from the girl who always hid behind oversized sweaters and glasses.

Harper spun me toward the mirror, and for the first time, I looked at myself in the reflection. The woman staring back at me was someone I didn’t quite recognize.

“You look amazing,” Harper said with pride, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I told you.”

I could only manage a soft smile in response, feeling the heat of self-doubt still lingering. But I had to admit, I felt a little spark of something—confidence, maybe?

“Now, get ready to dance your ass off, because we’re going to have fun tonight. I swear, you’re going to love it,” Harper said, grinning as she grabbed her own jacket.

I nodded, taking a deep breath before stepping into the unfamiliar world of flashing lights and loud music that awaited us at the club. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what tonight would bring, but there was a small part of me that wanted to try. Maybe I did need to step outside my comfort zone once in a while.

As we headed to the door, my heart pounded with a strange mix of excitement and nerves. The club was just the first step. I had no idea what the night would hold—what surprises awaited me, or who might be watching from the shadows.

But I was going to try. And for the first time in a long while, I was curious to see where it might lead.