Blood Moon Diner.

The Idea

Amia doesn’t sit down. She never does when there’s something new to push. “So what happens now?” she asks, tapping the paper again like it might respond. Elara hesitates. It’s small, almost invisible, but it’s there. “Nothing serious. We just read them out, maybe dare the person to prove it wrong or something. It’s just for fun.” “Boring,” Amia says immediately. Dami nods. “For once, I agree with her.” “You always agree with me when I’m right.” “You’re rarely right.” “Rude.” Kunle grins, still filming. “No, she’s right this time. If we’re doing this, we go all in.” “All in how?” Lila asks, arms folded now, watching the paper like it might turn on her. Amia’s smile shifts. Not louder. Not bigger. Just sharper. “We make it a real game.” “No,” Elara says quickly. Too quickly. Everyone notices. Amia tilts her head. “Why not?” “Because it’s not that kind of thing.” “It could be.” “It shouldn’t be.” There’s a small silence. Not heavy, but enough to slow the room down. Fola leans forward slightly. “What defines a real game?” “Consequences,” Jonah says from the corner. No one looks at him directly, but everyone hears it. Amia snaps her fingers. “Exactly. Stakes. That’s what we’re missing.” “We’re not adding stakes,” Dami says. “It’s a dinner, not a survival show.” “Relax, doctor,” Kunle says. “Nobody’s dying.” The word lands strangely. Nobody comments on it. Amia looks back at Elara. “Come on. You made this. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about taking it further.” Elara doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes drop to the paper, to the names written under each role. The Lover. The Liar. The Coward. The Hero. Her fingers brush the edge of the page. “I just thought it would be interesting,” she says finally. “It is,” Amia replies. “So let’s make it unforgettable.” Simy lifts her phone again. “Yes. This is what I’m talking about. Real reactions, real tension. People love this kind of thing.” “People also love not being embarrassed,” Dami says. “Speak for yourself,” Marcus mutters. Lila glances at him. “You sound nervous.” “I’m not.” “You wrote your name under Lover.” “So?” “So we’ll see if it fits.” There’s that edge again. Slight, but there. Fola watches them, thoughtful. “It’s fascinating how quickly a label becomes a test.” “Bro, not now,” Kunle says. “It’s always now.” Amia raises her hands. “Okay, focus. We’re overthinking. Let’s keep it simple. We call a name, give them a challenge based on their role, and they have to do it. Easy.” “That sounds like a bad idea,” Dami says. “That’s why it’s fun.” “No, that’s why it’s a bad idea.” “Same thing.” Elara looks up. “What kind of challenges?” Amia shrugs. “Nothing crazy. Just things that match the role. Like, if you’re the liar, you have to tell the truth about something. If you’re the lover…” She smirks. “We get creative.” “That’s exactly the problem,” Dami says. “It’s exactly the point,” Amia replies. Kunle nods. “I’m in.” “Of course you are,” Dami mutters. Simy raises her hand slightly. “I’m in too. This is gold.” Marcus leans back in his chair. “Why not? Let’s do it.” Lila watches him for a second, then shrugs. “Fine. But if this gets weird, I’m blaming all of you.” “It’s already weird,” Jonah says quietly. No one laughs this time. Elara looks around the room. One by one, people nod, agree, settle into it. The energy has changed. Not gone. Just sharper now. Focused. Like everyone is waiting for something to start. Her grip tightens on the paper again. “This wasn’t supposed to be serious,” she says. “It’s still not,” Amia replies. “It’s just a game.” Michel finally moves from his spot and steps closer to the table. Not rushed. Not hesitant. Just deliberate. He looks down at the paper, then at Elara. “Games are only light,” he says quietly, “until people start meaning what they say.” She meets his eyes. “It’s not that deep.” “Maybe not,” he says. But he doesn’t look convinced. Amia claps once, breaking the moment. “Alright. Enough talking. We start now.” She reaches for the paper, but Elara doesn’t let go immediately. For a second, they both hold it. Then Elara releases. Amia grins, lifting it up like a prize. “Let’s see who goes first.” Kunle angles his camera. “This is it. First round.” Simy adjusts her position, making sure she can see both the paper and the group. Dami crosses his arms. “I already don’t like this.” Fola leans in slightly. “That’s how you know it matters.” Marcus exhales. “Just say the name.” Lila’s fingers tap lightly against the table. Not impatient. Just restless. Jonah doesn’t move. His gaze is fixed on Amia now. Michel stands still, eyes on the paper, like he already knows what’s written there. The room quiets without anyone asking it to. Even the music feels lower, like it’s fading into the background on its own. Amia scans the list, her smile slowly settling into something more focused. “Okay,” she says. A beat passes. Then another. “First up…” The lights flicker. This time longer. A soft buzz hums through the room, just under the surface. Amia pauses, glancing up. “Did you guys” The lights steady again.

Everything looks normal. Too normal. She laughs lightly. “Okay… dramatic timing.” No one else laughs. She looks back at the paper. Her voice is steady when she speaks again. “First name…” For a second, it feels like the room is holding its breath. “Marcus.”