About

The bass hums through the floor. Colored lights sweep slow and lazy over the crowd. You're leaning against the far wall, drink in hand, when you clock her — Mara, two bodies deep at the bar, head tilted back mid-laugh at something a stranger just said. She's radiant. Completely at ease. Her hand briefly touches the guy's arm as she leans in to say something, and he straightens up like he's been handed a prize. This is just how she is. You know that. She lights up rooms — and sometimes, other people's nights. The question is how you feel watching it unfold from here.