Collide Into Ruin

Emilia: Made it to the Tipsy Tortoise! 🍻

Henry's phone buzzed on his desk just as he finished up his last email for the night. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He stretched back in his chair before picking up the phone.

Henry: You survived the treacherous journey. I'm proud of you.

Emilia: Barely. There was a line. And someone tried to fight the bouncer over a fake ID. It was riveting.

Henry: Ah yes, the noble gladiators of our time.

Emilia: Exactly. Anyway, if you finish early, would you join me?

Henry hesitated, just for a second. It wasn't that he didn't want to—God, he wanted to—but something about Emilia pulling him deeper into her world made his chest feel... lighter. She wanted him there. Around her friends. She wanted to fold him into the people who mattered to her. And that thought alone warmed something in him he hadn't even realized was cold.

Henry: I should be done in 40 minutes, maybe an hour. I'll be there.

Emilia: 😊 YAY!!! (followed by an absurdly enthusiastic dancing meme)

Henry chuckled, but before he could put his phone down, another text popped up.

Emilia: Also, your brother is here.

Henry's smile vanished. He narrowed his eyes and typed back.

Henry: That absolute menace better not be corrupting the locals.

Emilia: Too late. He's pulling everyone into a drinking game... for a role in his next film.

Henry let out a slow, exhausted sigh. Then he typed:

Henry: That's it. I'm legally changing my last name.

Emilia: Oh, come on, it's hilarious. He has everyone reciting Shakespeare while taking shots.

Henry: First of all, that's not how casting works. Second, I'm going to beat him up.

Emilia: Please do. But after I see who gets the part.

Henry groaned, running a hand down his face. This night was going to be chaos. He could already see it—Jason holding court like some unhinged film director, half the bar slurring soliloquies, and Emilia laughing in the middle of it all.

And somehow, he still couldn't wait to get there.

________________________________________

The moment Chase, Liam, and Travis stepped into the VIP room, the energy shifted.

Liam, as always, carried himself like he owned the place, flashing a wide grin as he took in the scene. Travis, on the other hand, hesitated—just for a second—before scanning the room with a quiet urgency. Emilia followed his gaze, already knowing what—or who—he was looking for.

Roxanne.

She was perched on the edge of the booth, laughing—really laughing—as Jason animatedly reenacted some absurd story, hands flying, expression exaggerated. Roxanne clutched her stomach, her laughter unrestrained, and when she playfully shoved Jason's shoulder, the ease between them made something flicker across Travis's face. It was quick—so quick that anyone else might've missed it—but Emilia knew better.