Alisia stood near the edge of the room, her soda can cold in her hand, the condensation forming little droplets on her fingers. The party had been going on for a few hours, and despite the laughter and music filling the air, a familiar emptiness sat at the pit of her stomach. Her friends were scattered across the room, immersed in their conversations, but she hadn't found her rhythm.
The night felt strangely hollow, like she was watching everything from the outside, unable to connect. She wasn't sure what she was looking for—maybe some sense of belonging, or maybe just a distraction from the weight she always carried with her. She took another sip of her drink, scanning the room absentmindedly when her eyes landed on someone she hadn't noticed before.
He stood near the corner, talking to a small group of people but not quite fully engaged. His tall frame was easy to spot, his posture relaxed yet exuding a quiet confidence. Dark hair that was casually tousled, broad shoulders under a well-fitted shirt, and a sharp jawline that caught the light whenever he turned. He had that kind of effortless charm about him, the kind that drew eyes without him having to try.
Alisia found herself staring, a spark of curiosity stirring in her chest. She hadn't seen him at any other gatherings before—he didn't seem like the type to be part of her usual crowd. Yet something about him held her attention, like he was someone who didn't quite fit into the chaos of the party either.
Suddenly, his gaze shifted and locked onto hers. Alisia's breath caught for a moment, her stomach flipping unexpectedly. She quickly looked away, embarrassed at having been caught staring. She hoped he wouldn't notice, but when she glanced back up a moment later, he was walking toward her.
"Hey," he greeted her casually, his voice smooth, with just the right amount of warmth. "You look like you're in desperate need of an escape from all of this."
Alisia blinked, surprised by his directness but also somewhat relieved. "Is it that obvious?"
He smiled, a small, knowing grin that somehow made her feel less awkward. "You looked about as comfortable as I feel right now."
She chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "Yeah, I'm not really a fan of parties like this. I don't even know why I came."
"I get that," he said, leaning against the wall next to her. "Sometimes it feels like we go to these things out of obligation, like we're expected to enjoy ourselves even when we don't want to."
Alisia nodded, feeling a strange connection to his words. There was something refreshing about how he didn't try to force small talk, didn't make her feel like she had to be something she wasn't. It was a brief moment of honesty in a room full of noise.
"I'm Ethan, by the way," he added, extending a hand toward her.
"Alisia," she replied, shaking his hand and feeling a strange warmth in his touch. For the first time that night, she felt a flicker of something genuine, something that made her feel like she wasn't just drifting aimlessly.
They stood there for a while, talking about small things—how he knew Ryan from his old school, how he hadn't planned on coming to the party either, but somehow got roped in. Alisia found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, and for the first time in months, the heaviness in her chest seemed to lift, just a little.
As the evening wore on, Ethan didn't leave her side. He wasn't pushy, didn't try to impress her with stories or flaunt himself like some of the other guys she'd met at parties. Instead, he simply listened when she spoke, his gaze attentive and kind, as though he understood more than he let on.
"So, what do you do?" Ethan asked, shifting the conversation toward her.
Alisia hesitated. "I'm a student right now. Computer programming. I... I used to game a lot too, but I haven't been into it much lately."
"Programming, huh?" Ethan raised an eyebrow. "That's impressive. Not a lot of people have the patience for it."
"Yeah, well," she said, offering a small smile. "It's something I've always been good at. Plus, it's a nice way to distract myself from… everything."
Ethan nodded, his expression softening. "Sometimes we all need an escape, right?"
Alisia's chest tightened at his words. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was starting to feel like someone saw her—not just the girl who hid away in her studies and gaming to cope, but as someone who was trying to find her way through the darkness. She didn't even realize how much she had missed feeling that connection with another person.
The music from the party dimmed in her mind as she focused solely on him, his presence somehow grounding her. His smile, his voice, the way he made her feel seen… it was different. Alisia's heart, so carefully guarded these past few years, started to shift, to settle on him in a way that caught her by surprise.
Maybe, just maybe, Ethan could be her chance at happiness again.
As the night progressed, the party began to wind down. The music softened to a mellow hum, and the once-crowded room thinned as groups either slipped away or found quieter corners to huddle in. Alisia, despite herself, had stayed longer than she'd planned. Initially, she had been reluctant to come, but Ethan had made the night bearable, even enjoyable.
He was different from anyone she'd met recently. There was an ease to his presence, a confidence that wasn't overbearing, and it had drawn her in. Maybe that's why she stayed—because for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel alone in a crowd.
"Do you want to step outside for a bit? It's getting kind of stuffy in here," Ethan asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Alisia nodded, feeling the unspoken understanding between them. Without saying much, they seemed to have connected over the course of the evening, and now she found herself intrigued by him in ways she hadn't anticipated.
She followed him toward the patio doors, the cool night air hitting her face as they stepped outside. The contrast between the heat of the party and the fresh, crisp air was refreshing, like taking a breath after being underwater for too long. The distant hum of the city acted as a soft backdrop, and the night sky was clear, stars twinkling above them. Alisia leaned against the railing, her gaze lingering on the quiet beauty of the view, but her thoughts kept drifting to the man beside her.
"You know," Ethan started, his tone thoughtful as he leaned on the railing beside her, "I've been in your shoes before."
Alisia blinked, glancing at him. "What do you mean?"
"The way you've been tonight... like you're here, but not really." He turned his gaze toward her, his eyes filled with a kind of understanding that surprised her. "I know what it's like to feel like you're just floating through everything. Like there's a part of you that's not quite present."
His words caught her off guard, striking a chord deep within her. How could he have noticed that? She hadn't told him about her brother, about David, or how everything had changed since he'd died. Yet here Ethan was, reading her as if he had seen right through the walls she'd carefully built around herself.
Her throat tightened as she tried to form a response, but the words wouldn't come. She didn't know whether to be flattered or uneasy about how much he seemed to understand her without knowing anything about her life.
Ethan seemed to pick up on her discomfort. "I didn't mean to pry," he said gently, offering a small, reassuring smile. "I just... I get it. You don't seem like the type who enjoys these kinds of parties, and I've been there before. Sometimes it feels like you're just going through the motions."
Alisia hesitated, her heart racing as she weighed whether or not to open up. For a moment, she considered telling him everything. How David's death had shattered her world, how she had thrown herself into studies and gaming just to escape the unbearable grief that clung to her like a shadow. How she had buried her pain so deep that even now, standing next to someone who might understand, she still couldn't find the words to describe it.
But instead, she offered a tight smile. "Yeah... something like that."
The silence between them stretched for a few moments, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt as though they both understood what wasn't being said.
Ethan shifted slightly, leaning closer. "It gets better, you know. It might not seem like it right now, but it does."
Alisia looked up at him, his words hanging in the air between them. There was something comforting in the way he said it—not as a hollow platitude, but as if he truly believed it. As if he had lived through something similar. And for the first time in a long while, Alisia allowed herself to believe, just for a fleeting moment, that maybe he was right.
Maybe it would get better.
And maybe, just maybe, this connection she felt with Ethan could be the start of something more. He wasn't like anyone else she had met in recent years. His presence, his calm demeanor—it filled a void she hadn't even realized was there until now. For so long, her heart had been buried under the weight of grief and loneliness, but now, standing beside Ethan, she felt a flicker of something she hadn't expected.
Hope.
Before she could dwell on it further, Ethan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen, and for a split second, his face tightened.
"Sorry," he said, straightening up. "I have to take this."
"Is everything okay?" Alisia asked, the easy connection between them feeling fragile now, as if it might slip away.
"Yeah," he smiled, though this one didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just work stuff."
She nodded, not wanting to pry. Everyone had their own life, their own complications, and maybe she was reading too much into the shift in his demeanor. After all, this was the first time she had allowed herself to get close to someone in so long. Maybe she was just afraid of losing it.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Ethan promised, his hand brushing lightly against hers before he stepped away, disappearing back inside the house.
Alisia stood there for a while, the cool air doing little to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her. She leaned on the railing, staring up at the stars, wondering if she had imagined the connection they had shared. She was so desperate for something real, for someone to hold on to, that maybe she had read too much into their conversation. Maybe she was looking for something that wasn't there.
But still... there was something about Ethan. Something that made her want to believe he could be the one to help her feel whole again. It wasn't just attraction—it was deeper than that. It was the sense that, with him, she might be able to find a way out of the darkness that had clouded her heart for so long.
A few minutes passed, then five, then ten. Alisia's thoughts wandered back to the party inside, but she couldn't stop thinking about Ethan. His words, his presence—it all lingered in her mind, like an unanswered question she couldn't shake.
Just as she was about to head back inside, the patio door slid open. Ethan reappeared, his expression composed but somehow distant, like there was something weighing on him that he wasn't ready to share.
"Sorry about that," he said, his voice softer now. "Something came up, and I have to leave."
Alisia frowned, disappointment settling in her chest. She had been hoping to spend more time with him, to see where this unexpected connection might lead. But she forced a smile, not wanting to let him see how much his sudden departure stung.
"Yeah, sure," she replied, trying to keep her voice light.
Ethan smiled back, though it was fleeting, almost as if he regretted having to go. "I'll see you again soon, right?"
Alisia nodded, watching as he turned and walked away, disappearing into the night. She stood there for a long time after he left, staring out at the city lights, her heart heavy with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite name.
Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was just imagining things, letting her loneliness get the best of her. But still, there was something about Ethan that she couldn't forget, something that made her want to believe that, just maybe, he could be the one to fill the void in her heart.
As the night stretched on, Alisia found herself clinging to that hope. Because for the first time in years, she had felt something other than the crushing weight of grief. She had felt alive.