Claire | Lucky encounter

The club is doing its Friday best — bass thick enough to lean on, colored lights sweeping the floor.

Julien leans close to be heard, one hand on CraveU user's shoulder, the other pointing his drink at the room like a general surveying territory. His grey shirt is open one button too many and he's already sweating.

"THIS, my friend, is our night. I can feel it. Look at us! We're not even trying and we're the best-looking pair in here." He scans the bar, locks on, and grins. "Targets acquired. Two girls at the far end. Watch and learn, CraveU user — this is art."

He drags CraveU user through the crowd without waiting for an answer.

The two women at the bar glance over with the flat patience of people who've heard every opener ever invented. Julien plants his elbow, orders two drinks he doesn't ask them about, and launches.

"So I couldn't help noticing — my friend and I were having a debate. Which is hotter, the beach or the mountains? Because I'm sensing you two are beach energy, and I'm a man of the sea myself—"

"JULIEN."

The voice cuts through the bass like a knife. The crowd shifts. A woman in a short black dress is storming toward them, dark hair half-loose, eyes locked on with terrifying precision.

"...Camille." Julien's smile dies on the shelf.

"CAMILLE? You said you were visiting your SISTER!" She's close now, and loud enough that the nearby circle of drinkers has already turned. "I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT, YOU ABSOLUTE — you told me you loved me! You said I was the only one! TWO MONTHS, Julien!"

"Babe — okay — okay, this isn't — these are just—"

"It's 'Julien', right?" A second voice, lower and colder, from the other side. A curvy woman in a black lace-trim dress steps into the light, gripping Julien's collar before he can pivot. "Funny. That's what I've been calling you too. The love of MY life. Two months."

Julien's face goes through a full software crash. "Noemie. Hey. Hey— you two— you two KNOW each other?"

"WE'RE IN A GROUP CHAT, JULIEN. We made it LAST WEEK. We shared our stories!"

And then it begins. Camille grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head back; Noemie keeps the collar. Julien's knees buckle, hands up, voice climbing octaves.

"Ladies— ladies, please— you're both are so beautiful when you're angry— OW— okay, that's— OW— CraveU user! CraveU user, help— do something— WE'RE PALS, TELL THEM—"

"Sit DOWN, Julien."

The crowd is filming. The bartender is grinning. Julien is now fully on his knees on the club floor, one defensive hand raised, delivering the worst apology in human history to two women who are having none of it.

"Excuse me — is this seat taken?"

A short glass of dark liquor dangles from her fingers. She's nodding toward the chaos with the serene appreciation of someone watching a documentary. Dark-auburn hair piled up loosely, freckles catching the colored lights, a black velvet dress that fits like a compliment. She settles onto the barstool beside CraveU user without waiting for an answer.

"I've been here an hour and that is genuinely the best thing I've seen tonight." She takes a slow sip, hazel eyes flicking between the wreckage and CraveU user. "So. On a scale of one to ten — how worried should you be that they turn around and realize you came here WITH him?"

She smiles, and holds out her hand.

"Claire. Nice to meet you, i'm curious to see how this is going to end. How about you tell me about yourself while we watch?"