She decides to go to the party

Emma stepped up to the front of the house, the thumping bass of the music already vibrating through her chest. The party was in full swing, and the noise was deafening. She hesitated for a moment, suddenly hyper-aware of how little she was wearing. She nervously adjusted her lingerie top, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I’m going to kill you, Madison,” she muttered under her breath, glaring at the ground as if her best friend could feel her wrath from wherever she was hiding..

The front door was wide open, and a steady stream of people flowed in and out, laughing and shouting over the music. Emma took a deep breath, steeling herself, and stepped inside. Almost immediately, she was hit with the smell of sweat, spilled beer, and the faint tang of someone’s cheap cologne. The living room was packed, bodies pressed together as people danced or shouted to be heard. The strobe lights flickered, casting the room in chaotic flashes of color.

Before she could even process the chaos, Marcus appeared at the door, his face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey! Emma! Yo!” he called out, his voice slightly slurred. He stumbled over and pulled her into a hug, his breath reeking of ****. As he hugged her, his hands lingered a little too long, slipping down to grope her ass before quickly pulling away. It was subtle, but Emma noticed, and it made her skin crawl.

“Wow, you look amazing!” Marcus said, his grin widening as he looked her up and down. “Seriously, you’re winning outfit of the night, hands down. Gawddam!”

Emma **** a smile, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort. “Uh, thanks,” she said, her voice barely audible over the music. She crossed her arms self-consciously, wishing she could disappear into the crowd.

“Come on, let’s get you a drink,” Marcus said, slinging an arm around her shoulders and steering her toward the kitchen. Emma hesitated but let him lead her, not wanting to make a scene. As they pushed through the crowd, she could feel eyes on her, and it only made her more aware of how out of place she felt.

The kitchen was just as crowded as the living room, with people clustered around the counter where a makeshift bar had been set up. Marcus grabbed a red plastic cup and started pouring a mix of vodka and some bright blue energy drink. “Here,” he said, handing it to her with a grin. “This’ll help you loosen up. You look way too tense for a party like this.”

Emma took the cup, forcing another smile. “Thanks,” she said, taking a small sip. The drink was strong, and she winced at the bitter taste. She scanned the room, hoping to spot someone she knew.