52. A change for Emma

The exclusive lounge of the bar was the perfect retreat. Away from the flashing cameras, away from the clamor of adoring fans, and away from the troubles of the world. The dim golden light of the chandelier reflected off the smooth marble tabletops, casting a warm glow over the room. Plush velvet couches lined the walls, the air filled with the soothing hum of soft jazz music blending with the occasional clinking of glasses.

Emma let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. After everything that had happened tonight—the hostility from the so-called fans, the terrifying encounter in the restroom, and the fight that had nearly spiraled out of control—she should have been a wreck. And yet, sitting here, with Matthew and Shirley on either side of her, she felt strangely at ease.

Matthew, ever the protective older brother, leaned back on the couch, his sharp gaze flickering between Emma and Shirley. His fingers drummed against his whiskey glass as he studied them. His expression was unreadable at first—part amusement, part curiosity, part something else she couldn't quite place.

"You know," he finally said, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I thought I'd be spending the rest of the night reassuring you two, maybe even driving you home if things got too much." He tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a smirk. "Turns out I underestimated you."

Emma smirked back, resting her chin on her hand. "You always underestimate me, Matt."

Shirley, perched on the armrest beside Emma, let out a dramatic sigh. "Honestly, he's not wrong. I thought you'd be traumatized after what happened." She nudged Emma playfully. "But here you are, drinking like a queen, looking like nothing even fazed you."

Emma exhaled, running a hand through her hair. "It's not that it didn't faze me," she admitted. "It's just… I guess I'm done letting things like that make me feel small. I used to think that I always needed someone to step in and protect me. But tonight, for the first time, I didn't feel like a damsel in distress."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, swirling his whiskey in his glass. "And yet, I still had to step in and fire that idiot outside the concert. And Logan had to deal with those thugs at the alley." His voice was teasing, but there was an edge of concern hidden underneath.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. Maybe I still needed a little backup. But that doesn't mean I wasn't ready to fight for myself."

Shirley nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! And to be fair, I was ready to throw hands too." She shot Matthew a pointed look. "You should've seen me in action."

Matthew let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Oh, I believe it. If anyone could scare off a bunch of lowlifes, it's you."

Emma grinned, nudging Shirley. "See? Even Matthew acknowledges your skills."

Shirley puffed out her chest proudly. "Damn right. Maybe I should start charging for bodyguard services."

Matthew smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. "If you ever need a reference, I'll vouch for your ability to scare grown men senseless."

The three of them clinked their glasses together, the sound ringing lightly in the intimate space. For a moment, silence settled between them, but it was a comfortable one.

Matthew's expression softened as he looked at Emma. "But seriously, Em. I can see it—you've changed. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Emma met his gaze, her fingers tightening around her glass. There was something so genuine in his tone, something that made warmth spread through her chest.

"You really think so?" she asked quietly.

Matthew nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. I do."

Shirley grinned, slinging an arm around Emma's shoulder. "Well, duh. Look at you! Holding your own, not letting anyone push you around. I mean, a year ago, you would've been shaken up for days after something like this."

Emma thought about that for a moment. They were right. A year ago, she probably would have shut down, replaying the events over and over in her head, wondering what she did wrong. But tonight, she didn't feel that same helplessness. Maybe she wasn't completely fearless yet, but she was getting there.

"Guess I really am growing up," she mused with a small smile.

Matthew chuckled. "Well, don't grow up too fast. I still need an excuse to be the overprotective big brother."

Emma laughed, shaking her head. "I don't think you'll ever stop being overprotective, Matt."

"True," Shirley chimed in. "But, hey, at least now he knows you're not a helpless little princess. You're a badass in the making."

Emma lifted her glass. "To becoming a badass, then."

Shirley grinned, raising hers. "To Emma's villain origin story."

Matthew sighed but raised his own glass with a smirk. "To my sister scaring me a little more each day."

They drank, letting the warmth of the alcohol spread through them, washing away the tension of the night.

As the evening went on, the drinks kept coming, and the conversations grew more ridiculous.

Shirley leaned forward, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Alright, serious question—if you weren't a singer, what do you think you'd be doing?"

Matthew considered that for a moment. "Honestly? Probably something boring, like finance or business. But let's be real, I'd get bored in a week."

Emma smirked. "Oh, absolutely. You were born to be dramatic on stage."

"Excuse you," Matthew shot back. "I am not dramatic. I am artistically expressive."

Shirley burst into laughter. "Oh my god, listen to yourself. That's exactly what a dramatic person would say."

Matthew groaned. "Okay, fine. Maybe just a little."

Emma grinned, resting her chin on her hand. "I guess we're all dramatic in our own way."

Shirley lifted her glass. "To dramatic people, then!"

Matthew laughed. "Are we just making toasts to everything now?"

"Yes," Emma and Shirley said in unison.

The night stretched on, filled with more laughter, more teasing, and more memories being made.

For the first time in a long time, Emma felt light. She felt free. She felt like she belonged.

No matter what happened, no matter what obstacles came their way, she knew one thing for sure—she had people who would stand by her.

And tonight, that was all that mattered.