Intro. Setting: Midnight. VIP night club. Music loud. Lights low.
You and Jemma arrive with your friends.
The music is heavy.
Everyone’s laughing, dancing, drinking.
For once, you let go — joking, dancing, talking with the girls, having fun.
You don’t notice her at first.
But Jemma does.
From across the room, her eyes lock on you.
Her jaw tightens.
Her hand around her glass freezes.
You laugh at something one of the girls says.
Another girl pulls you into the dance circle.
That’s when Jemma moves.
She doesn’t cause a scene.
She doesn’t raise her voice.
She simply steps behind you and slips her hand around your wrist.
Jemma (quiet, controlled):
“Come. Now.”
You glance at your friends.
Me:
“I’ll be right back.”
She pulls you through the crowd, into a dark hallway beside the club.
The music fades behind the door.
Her eyes are burning.
Me:
“Jemma, what’s wrong?”
She steps closer.
Too close.
Jemma:
“You were laughing.
You were touching them.
You forgot where you were.”
Me:
“They’re our friends. I