I didn't know what compelled me to stand up and leave like I did. Or, I did know the reason, I just couldn't believe how quickly I responded to it. It was immediate—the words were said and then my body responded, my emotions responded, before the rest of me could catch up.

I turned on my heel and headed in the direction of where I was pretty sure the bathroom was. But of course, I had never been to this club before and no one had told me where anything was. I could see the dance floor and the bar—everything else was a giant black mass of nothingness. The walls all seemed bare with no doors in sight. And I couldn't tell what was down the side hallways, if they would lead to a bathroom or if it was just a storage closet.

I wasn't even sure what it was exactly that had upset me. I wasn't sure if I really was upset, or if I was just overwhelmed by everything. These were all new friends in a new place. I've never necessarily been good with change, which is why that's the only logical reason behind how I'm feeling. I've always loved going out, but it felt so different here. I was in a new place surrounded by new people, and everything just felt so foreign. I kept feeling this emptiness crawling up around me that makes my stomach twist in such a distasteful way. Maybe it's because I'm still processing everything that unfolded prior to all this back in New York—or maybe it's that I'm realizing that this was a completely different Cayden from the Cayden that I had gotten to know. She told different stories and had different memories with these friends. It was hard—really hard. It felt like I'd gotten to know someone and now I was being told that I'd only actually met half of her.

I didn't feel like she'd lied to me or deceived me along the way. There wasn't any sense of betrayal. It was just... different. New. It was all the same Cayden, but in a different setting and clearly, with people who went harder than her friends back at her childhood home or in New York.

The music was blasting at an unbelievable volume, making my ears pop. I could feel the bass through my entire body. It was weirdly grounding to feel it and breathe it.

I wandered around, pushing through friends and large groups to find the bathroom. The crowd was chaotic and getting increasingly rowdy, and I had a feeling the club was just starting to gear up for a wild night.

Eventually, I found the bathroom and pushed the door open, grateful to have found it. I needed a moment where I wasn't feeling totally seen by a crowd of people. Even with the dim lighting, it wouldn't take much to visibly see that I was upset. And even if I was upset, I was really embarrassed by the fact that I was. It was so stupid to feel this way, especially when Cayden just wanted to enjoy a night out with her friends. I just... I don't feel like myself, and on top of that, I feel so empty and drained from just everything overall. It wasn't just tonight. It was everything unfolding with J&J—leaving New York—to coming to Miami and readjusting—then meeting new people who only reminded me of the friends I lost—and lastly, just trying to keep up with Cayden's pace, mentally and physically.

Thankfully, there wasn't a bathroom line—probably due to it still being so early in the night—so I rushed into a stall and took a breather, locking myself inside so I could actually be alone. I needed a second where no one was looking at me, so I could catch up with myself and breathe a little bit.

Everything was fine. I knew that. No one was trying to hurt my feelings or make me feel like I didn't belong—or even remind me of J&J. But still, I felt the anxiety and emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

"Avina?"

I looked up, unsure of if I was hearing things or if that was really Cayden's voice.

"Are you in here?"

It was definitely her. Part of me wanted to shut her out, embarrassed that I had to get up and leave the table, but another part of me wanted to let her in. I wanted to let her be here for me.

"Yeah," I said and clicked open the stall door so she could join me. I pushed open the door and she walked over. We shut the door and locked ourselves in the stall, Cayden's familiar spiced cologne surrounded me, already soothing my spiked senses.

"Is everything okay?" Cayden asked. She looked so concerned. I loved that about her—she looked so tough on the outside with her tattoos and her height, but she was so soft and so gentle with people. She genuinely listened and cared. I could feel it, always.

"Yeah," I said. "I just needed a moment." I forced my tone to come out stronger, deciding I didn't want to concern her

Apparently, my tone or expression wasn't convincing because Cayden's face softened. "I'm really sorry for taking you out tonight. I know you said that you didn't want to and we'd made an agreement. That wasn't fair of me."

"No, It's okay, you were excited to see your friends," I said. "I'm sorry I'm not able to go with the flow as much as I'd want to. I seriously don't want to ruin the night."

"You're not ruining anything," Cayden said. She looped her fingers through mine. "Are you really okay? I was worried when you ran off like that."

I contemplated spilling my true inner thoughts and emotions. From everything in New York to here—how I'm still reeling from what previously happened—and the empty pit that keeps growing in my stomach. But I decided not to, at least not tonight. The timing wasn't right. "I just... needed a moment."

Cayden gently glided her thumb over the back of my hand. "Okay," she said, not pushing me or the topic further. "Do you want to go home?"

"We can't just go home now or your friends are going to think I'm so lame."

Cayden let out a small laugh, "They're not going to think you're lame."

"I can't run out on them and then say we're going home," I said. "That would be so embarrassing. My worst first impression maybe ever."

"They'll understand, Vi."

I smiled a little bit at her. "Let's get another drink. We can dance and have a good time and then we'll call it a night. I don't have any reason to be back early. If we're already here, we might as well have fun."

Cayden studied my face as if she was waiting for some kind of cue that I was lying. But I wasn't. I wasn't exactly thrilled to be here—I would've rather been home with Cayden in something comfy and maybe watching a movie—but I could make do. It was about compromise.

"Come on," I said and popped open the bathroom door. "Let's go."

We went back to find Cayden's friends, who all smiled in greeting.

"We're going to go dance if anyone wants to join," Cayden said and everyone stood up. Cayden went over to the bar to get me and herself a drink, and I headed out to the dancefloor.

I could feel my shoulders start to relax as I started moving, letting my body move to the rhythm of the music. The songs that were played were mostly remixes, the songs switching between familiar and unfamiliar choruses.

"Here," Cayden said, handing off a drink to me. I took a long sip from it, letting myself really loosen up for what felt like the first time in ages. I finished the drink off effortlessly and quickly, deciding not to hesitate about the night anymore.

We kept going, dancing and drinking, Cayden's friends offering to buy us all rounds of shots as the night went on. Time passed quickly and freely, somehow melting away without me even realizing.

I got close to Cayden, our limbs brushing here and there, until we were fully pressed to each other. We danced hard, our bodies moving together in one fluid motion. She put her hand to my lower back, our chests pressed together and our lips just a breath apart.

This was the first time we'd ever really been able to be in public together like this. We were no longer a secret. We could just be us—completely unafraid of the wrath of my ex-boyfriend and his friends. Or more, the people who used to be our friends and my friends.

I giggled a little bit to myself, giddy from the alcohol. I knew the entire point of coming to Florida was to get away from it all and to have a break, but I hadn't fully comprehended what that meant until now. It meant being able to go to a bar and dance with each other free of paranoia. It meant dinners and time out of the house without having to consider that people might see us.

I leaned in and kissed Cayden. Her lips were soft and familiar, but it also felt like the first time. I pulled her in closer and closer, our kiss deepening. I loved being able to be on a dance floor with her, free of worry—and I loved being able to boldly kiss her like that.

She kept her hands on me like she never wanted to let me go, and she looked at me like she barely even recognized me—but in the best way.

"Let me take you home," Cayden said, and I knew exactly what she meant.