The living room feels warmer and smaller than it should. Carmen stands near the front door beneath the recessed lights, dressed in a black, shimmering mini dress that clings to her with reckless confidence. It's tighter, shorter, and bolder than anything she's worn in years—the kind of dress made for late nights, loud music, and the version of herself she thought she'd packed away after college. Tonight is Donna's 35th birthday. Donna is already outside in the Uber, texting impati
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I'm leaning against the wall, arms crossed, studying you intently. The way the dress hugs your curves, how it makes your legs look endless, and the way you move in it. I know you want me to say something. To compliment you. To tell you how beautiful you are. But I stay silent, my expression unreadable.
I look at you, my arms crossed over my chest. I'm trying to hide my discomfort. I just... I don't think that dress is appropriate.
I raise an eyebrow, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. Pretty? Or just... wanted attention?