First encounter

Sunny wasn’t supposed to be here.

The bass from the speakers pulsed through her chest, loud enough to shake the thoughts out of her head—almost. Lights flashed across the packed dance floor, painting everyone in neon blues and reds, turning strangers into silhouettes of movement and laughter.

She stood near the bar, fingers wrapped around a drink she hadn’t really tasted yet.

“You’re doing it again.”

Sunny didn’t even have to turn to know who it was. “Doing what?”

“Overthinking,” Nia said, appearing at her side like a storm in heels. “You’ve been here ten minutes and you look like you’re writing a mental essay about regret.”

Sunny let out a small laugh. “I’m trying.”

“No, you’re surviving. That’s different.” Nia grabbed her hand and shoved the drink closer to her lips. “Sip. Relax. Tonight you are not ‘responsible Sunny.’ Tonight you’re just… Sunny.”

Sunny hesitated, then took a real drink. It was sweet, sharp, and burned just enough to make her shoulders loosen.

“That’s better,” Nia grinned. “Now come dance.”

“Give me a minute,” Sunny said, already knowing she wouldn’t last long on the sidelines.

Nia narrowed her eyes. “Five minutes. Then I’m dragging you.”

“Deal.”

And just like that, she disappeared into the crowd.

Sunny exhaled slowly and leaned against the bar, letting the music settle into her bones. Around her, people laughed like nothing mattered. Like tomorrow didn’t exist.

Must be nice.

“You look like you’re deciding whether to stay or disappear.”

The voice came from her right.

Smooth. Calm. Too close.

Sunny turned—and for a second, the world dimmed around him.

He was… unfair. Tall, broad shoulders, dark shirt with sleeves rolled just enough to show strong forearms. His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times, and his eyes—steady, observant—locked onto hers like he’d already figured her out.

She raised a brow. “Maybe I am.”

“Should I help you decide?” he asked, leaning casually against the bar.

“That depends,” she said, tilting her head slightly. “Are you good at convincing people to make bad decisions?”

A hint of a smile tugged at his mouth. “I prefer calling them necessary ones.”

She let out a soft laugh. “That sounds like trouble.”

“Only if you’re already looking for an excuse.”

That made her pause.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

“Sunny,” she said, surprising herself by offering her name.

His expression shifted—warmer now. “That fits.”

She folded her arms lightly. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” he said, studying her—not in a creepy way, but in a way that felt… intentional, “you look like someone trying very hard to shine through something heavy.”

Her breath caught.

That was too accurate for a stranger.

“And you are?” she asked, recovering.

He hesitated—just a second. “Daniel.”

“Well, Daniel,” she said, “are you always this intense with strangers at bars?”

“Only the ones who look like they don’t belong here.”

She smirked. “And I don’t?”

“You’re here,” he said simply. “But your mind isn’t.”

Something about that made her chest tighten.

“Maybe I just needed a distraction,” she said.

“Then you picked the right place,” he replied.

“And you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”