There she is

Anya lay curled up on the couch in Flora's small but cozy living room. Her eyes, red and puffy from the relentless crying, stared blankly at the ceiling. She felt drained...emotionally, physically, mentally. Everything around her seemed muted, as though the weight of her misery had sucked the color out of the world.

Flora walked in, her arms crossed, watching her best friend sink further into despair. She'd been patient for the past day, letting Anya cry, vent, and wallow. But Flora wasn't the type to sit back and let someone she loved spiral like this.

"Alright, enough," Flora said firmly, snapping Anya out of her daze.

Anya turned her head weakly, her voice hoarse. "Enough of what?"

This," Flora said, gesturing to herself, sprawling across the couch in her wrinkled clothes and unbrushed hair. "Lying around like a sad little puddle. You're coming with me."

Anya groaned, burying her face in a cushion. "I don't want to go anywhere. I can't."

Flora snatched the cushion away, her sharp tone leaving no room for argument. "Why not? Give me one good reason why you shouldn't." "Because." Anya hesitated, struggling to find the words. "I just. I don't feel like it, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes, growing impatient. "Is this about Elliot? You're still bawling your eyes out over that guy? Or...she leaned in close, her voice softer but the words cutting, "are you crying because on some level, you still feel for him?"

Anya jolted up in bed, shocked by the accusation. "What? No! Of course not!"

Flora raised an eyebrow, waiting for more.

"I'm not. I don't want him anymore," Anya insisted, her voice faltering slightly. "I just feel. cheated. Betrayed. I gave him everything, Flora, and he...he just..."

"I understand," said Flora with a gentle nudge, and she sat beside her. "He took away the trust, your peace, the love he gave you. But you cannot keep giving that power to this man to bring you down. You are worth more than that. And if you are so done with him like you told me, now is the time to prove it." 

Anya looked down. She fiddled with her hands. "How?

Flora grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "By getting up, dressing up, and stepping out. We're going somewhere." 

Anya blinked, confused. "Where exactly?" 

"Does it matter?" Flora smirked. "Just look your best. Now, come on."

Before Anya could protest further, Flora had pulled her off the couch and dragged her to the bedroom. She rummaged through her wardrobe, pulling out a sleek black dress she'd been saving for a special occasion. 

"This is for you," Flora said, holding up the dress. 

Anya hesitated. "Isn't that yours?"

"Not any longer," she said with a wink. "It's criminal for a gown this beautiful to sit in my closet unworn when it might make you resemble the queen I know you can be.

Flora nearly shoved Anya into the bathroom to get in the shower, then to work on hair and makeup. Anya sat in silence while Flora did her magic...brushing, curling, and blending with a concentration that could outshine the pros.

"There," Flora said finally, stepping back to admire her handiwork. "Now, take a look."

Anya stood hesitantly, walking to the full-length mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, elegant yet understated. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but flawless, enhancing her natural beauty. 

Her breath caught. "Flora. I..."

"Don't say anything," Flora said, smiling. "Just remember this moment. This is who you are, Anya. Strong, beautiful, and worth so much more than you've been given."

Anya felt a lump rise in her throat, but for the first time in days, it wasn't sadness. It was gratitude. Maybe even a flicker of hope.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Flora smiled, reaching for her purse. "Now, let's go remind the world who Anya really is.

.................

The music was deafeningly loud and thumping as Flora pulled Anya into the club. The lights were colorful and dancing across the space, and it all seemed to be too much. She hung back at the entrance, holding her purse tight. "This is too much," she said, eyeing the wildly dancing people with nervousness.

Flora smiled and took her hand. "No, it's not. You've been stuck in your head for too long. Tonight, you're going to have fun, even if I have to drag you through it."

Anya trailed after Flora, dodging groups of strangers who seemed completely at ease. They reached the bar, and Flora immediately ordered drinks.

"Flora, I don't think I'm cut out for this," Anya muttered.

Flora slid a glass toward her. "Just one drink. You don't even have to finish it. Trust me, you need this."

Anya looked down at the drink, unsure, before finally taking a small sip. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, though the taste was sharp and unfamiliar.

Not bad, huh?" she said with a grin, sipping her drink.

"It's. fine," Anya said softly.

"Good! Now, let's go out there and dance!" Flora said, pulling her toward the crowd.

"I don't dance," Anya said immediately, planting her feet.

Flora rolled her eyes. "You don't have to know how to dance. Just move to the music. No one's judging you, I promise."

Still a bit apprehensive, Anya let herself be pulled onto the floor. She just stood there at first, unsure of what to do while Flora swayed confidently to the beat. 

"Come on, just try it," Flora encouraged, clapping her hands.

Anya took a deep breath and began to sway her hips slightly. It felt awkward at first, but as the music surrounded her, she found herself relaxing a little. Her movements became less stiff, and before long, she was even smiling. "There she is!" Flora cheered, laughing.

Anya laughed softly, too. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she wasn't burdened by her thoughts. She was just. in the moment.

Flora convinced her to take another sip of the drink as the night wore on, making Anya relax even more. The loud music, colorful lights, and a heaving crowd all looked odd but liberating, yet a little too much for one's senses.

But then, while Anya twirled to the beat, she felt her heel snapping. She stumbled completely and lost her balance.

She hadn't even time to hit the ground before strong arms caught her.

"Whoa, easy there," a calm, deep voice said.

Anya blinked and looked up at a man holding her steady. He was tall with dark hair and sharp eyes studying her with concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I. I think so," she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

He glanced down at her broken shoe. "That heel didn't have a prayer," he teased, reaching up to help her stand.

Anya smiled shyly, still dazed. "Thanks," she whispered.

He nodded and stepped away, allowing her some room. "Be more careful next time," he said before backing away into the crowd.

Flora ran over to her, eyes wide open. "Anya! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Anya said quickly, though her heart was still racing.....not from the fall, but from the stranger who had caught her. 

Flora smirked. "Well, whoever he was, he was definitely cute."

Above this noisy, crowded dance floor lay a quieter space, an exclusive section where people sat on fancy couches, sipping expensive drinks and looking down at the crowd below like they were watching a show. There, in the shadows, one man sat, his eyes fixed on Anya.

He was unlike the others with their bright and cheerful smiles or laughter. There was nothing warm about him at all; even his expression said nothing, had no warmth. He had spotted her awkward stance when she had first entered and how she had huddled to the side of other girl she came with as though she didn't belong in this place. The way she turned back at the bar and made a hesitant start on the dance floor.

At first, her movements were stiff and unsure, but as the music enveloped her, she began to relax. Her small, uncertain steps turned into free spins, her arms dancing in time with the beat. For a moment, just a moment, she seemed to forget everything pressing her down, and she smiled-not the polite smile people give to fit in, but something real.

That's when the smirk appeared, faint but deliberate. His eyes remained fixed on her as she laughed with Flora, swaying to the music like she'd finally let herself breathe. But his gaze wasn't kind. It wasn't admiration or even curiosity. It was calculating, like she was a puzzle he was already working out in his head.

Not even the stumble, the fall into the man beside her, ruffled the observer. He saw everything-the way she apologized so swiftly, the nervous touch on her hair tucked behind her ears, and that subtle flush upon seeing she wasn't alone and people were eyeing her.

He leaned back in his chair, the faint glow of the club lights flickering across his face. His drink sat untouched on the table in front of him as he whispered something to the man sitting beside him. Without a word, the other man nodded and disappeared into the crowd.

Anya laughed awkwardly along with Flora, unaware of the fact that she was under someone's watchful eye. She was much too busy attempting to get out of her awkwardness and continue enjoying the evening. For her, this was a small minute of freedom that said, 'Forget everything and let go'. But she just couldn't feel that strange sensation that someone's eyes were glued on her back.

She looked around her but winced slightly at the attempt, seeing nothing suspicious. The music was too loud, the lights too bright, and everyone was having too much fun to pay her much attention. She pushed the sensation aside and laughed along with Flora at whatever she was saying.

Above, the man's smirk deepened. For him, this wasn't just some random night or a coincidence of chance encounters. Anya was not another person in the crowd. She was something more, something important, though she did not know it yet. 

For now, he would wait. But in his mind, the game had already begun.