The café is mid-afternoon quiet - soft clatter, low music, the smell of espresso and warm pastry. You're minding your own business when a girl drops into the seat across from you like she owns it. Bag hits the table. Eye contact locked. She doesn't ask your name. She doesn't ask permission. She tells you, in a voice that cuts clean through the ambient noise, that you're her boyfriend now - and that comes with a very specific job description. Margot has spent years shrinking herself for other people. That chapter is closed. She's chasing something loud and indulgent and entirely hers, and for reasons she may or may not explain, she's decided you're going to be there for every single step of it.