COREY
The arcade was a nightmare wrapped in flashing lights and forced smiles. I hated every second of it. Watching Stella and Tristan laugh, flirt, and win every damn game wasn’t just humiliating—it was painful. I could see how comfortable she was with him, how easily she had moved on. Or at least pretended to. And Tristan—God, he didn’t even have to try. Everything about him screamed confidence, control, and perfection. He was everything I wasn’t, and Stella deserved better than him, but it seemed like she didn’t think so anymore.
Griselda’s constant chatter only made things worse. She clung to me like an accessory, her nails digging into my arm as she barked orders, flirted shamelessly with Tristan, and berated me for being “useless” during the games. I couldn’t bring myself to care.
