The pick-me in your group has always needed the room to look at her. Eight of you on the floor at Donnie's, one film nobody is watching, and Giselle has found the same tired remark for you again. Then Niko points the remote at you — one question each, no lying — and even Andre, the quietest man in that room, lets out a sigh that everyone hears.
The night had started like any other. Pizza boxes were scattered across the coffee table, half-empty bottles of beer sat between controllers and movie cases, and the television had been playing the same film for nearly twenty minutes without anyone really paying attention. Everyone had ended up at Donnie's again. By now it was practically tradition. Andre was the unofficial leader of the group. He was the one who kept track of everyone, made sure nobody was doing anything dangerously stupid, and somehow always ended up clearing up after everyone else. He rarely admitted it, but he cared about the group more than anyone. Niko was the exact opposite. He was the life of every gathering, constantly talking, laughing, teasing people, and finding new ways to make an ordinary evening chaotic. Niko had enough energy for five people and absolutely no sense of when to stop. If there was a bad idea in the room, there was a strong chance he had already suggested it. Octavio was your best friend. The two of you had always been unusually close. Close enough that boundaries had more or less stopped existing a long time ago. A kiss here, falling asleep against each other there, sitting together with an arm around the other without anyone thinking twice about it. Neither of you had ever bothered giving whatever existed between you a proper name. And somehow, that made it easier. Wayde was the group's resident adrenaline addict. He raced motorcycles and owned a matte-black 600 that was almost as recognizable as he was. The whole group had been to his races more times than they could count, usually watching from the sidelines while Wayde disappeared into a completely different person the moment he got on his bike. Most days he was impossible to take seriously. Always joking. Always flirting. Always wearing that irritatingly self-assured smirk. But when Wayde focused on something, everything changed. His expression went cold. His attention narrowed. The jokes disappeared, and outside noise might as well have stopped existing. When he was working on his bike or preparing for a race, nobody could distract him. Lucia was energetic enough to rival Niko. She loved teasing everyone, starting pointless arguments, and turning ordinary conversations into complete chaos. Still, whenever things in the group became genuinely tense, she was usually the first to step in and try to smooth things over. Teodora was probably the calmest person there. She didn't talk unnecessarily and rarely got involved in the group's nonsense. She was also the only one who could spend hours discussing motorcycles with Wayde without getting bored. Teodora knew nearly everything there was to know about mechanics, from engines and suspension to the smallest details of tuning a race bike. Wayde pretended he wasn't impressed. Nobody believed him. And then there was Giselle. She had a gift for making sure everyone knew she had arrived. Bright clothes, short skirts, carefully styled hair, glossy lips, long manicured nails — Giselle treated every room like it was a stage and herself like she was the only person worth looking at. She also hated you. Not secretly. Not subtly. She simply couldn't stand you. It made no difference how many times the others told her to drop it. Even when the situation was obviously ridiculous, Giselle would find some way to throw an insult your direction. Tonight was no exception. The group was gathered around Donnie's living room, the lights dimmed while the television lit up everyone's faces. Niko was sprawled across the couch, stealing slices of pizza from the box sitting on the floor. "That's my last slice," Octavio warned him. Niko looked down at the slice in his hand. Then back at Octavio. He took another bite. "Was." Octavio stared at him for several seconds before grabbing a pillow and throwing it directly at his head. Niko ducked, laughing. "Violence! Andre, control your people!" Andre didn't even look up from his phone. "You're not my people." "That's hurtful." "It's also true." Lucia burst out laughing. Across the room, Wayde was sitting on the floor beside the coffee table, turning a bottle between his fingers while Teodora was explaining something about his suspension setup. "You keep saying the front end feels unstable," Teodora said, "but if you've changed the setup without adjusting the rear accordingly, that's probably why." Wayde raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying I'm the problem?" "I'm saying your bike isn't." A grin spread slowly across his face. "Careful, Teodora. That's almost flirting." She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself." Meanwhile, Giselle was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, scrolling through her phone. Her gaze lifted. It landed on you. Her expression immediately soured. "Oh, great," she muttered. "I almost forgot you were here." The room got slightly quieter. Andre glanced over. "Giselle." "What?" she replied innocently. "You know what." She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. "I'm just saying." Octavio's attention shifted toward her. His expression changed almost imperceptibly. "Then stop saying it." Giselle looked at him, clearly annoyed. Before she could respond, Niko suddenly stood up. "Enough! New rule." Everyone looked at him. "No more arguing." Andre sighed. "That's not going to work." "I know." Niko grabbed the remote. "So we're doing something else." "What?" Lucia asked. Niko's grin widened. "Everyone gets one question. No lying." A groan went round the room. "Oh, absolutely not," Teodora said. "Oh, absolutely yes," Niko replied. Wayde leaned back against the couch, amused. "This is going to end terribly." "Exactly." The film was forgotten. The pizza was forgotten. Even the tension in the room seemed to fade as everyone slowly moved closer, curious despite themselves. Niko looked around the room before his eyes landed on you. Then his grin got even wider. "Actually..." He pointed the remote in your direction. "I know exactly who I'm starting with." Octavio immediately glanced over. Andre sighed. Wayde raised an eyebrow. Giselle smiled for the first time all evening. The fire wasn't the only thing about to get interesting.
The pick-me in your group has always needed the room to look at her. Eight of you on the floor at Donnie's, one film nobody is watching, and Giselle has found the same tired remark for you again. Then Niko points the remote at you — one question each, no lying — and even Andre, the quietest man in that room, lets out a sigh that everyone hears.
The night had started like any other. Pizza boxes were scattered across the coffee table, half-empty bottles of beer sat between controllers and movie cases, and the television had been playing the same film for nearly twenty minutes without anyone really paying attention. Everyone had ended up at Donnie's again. By now it was practically tradition. Andre was the unofficial leader of the group. He was the one who kept track of everyone, made sure nobody was doing anything dangerously stupid, and somehow always ended up clearing up after everyone else. He rarely admitted it, but he cared about the group more than anyone. Niko was the exact opposite. He was the life of every gathering, constantly talking, laughing, teasing people, and finding new ways to make an ordinary evening chaotic. Niko had enough energy for five people and absolutely no sense of when to stop. If there was a bad idea in the room, there was a strong chance he had already suggested it. Octavio was your best friend. The two of you had always been unusually close. Close enough that boundaries had more or less stopped existing a long time ago. A kiss here, falling asleep against each other there, sitting together with an arm around the other without anyone thinking twice about it. Neither of you had ever bothered giving whatever existed between you a proper name. And somehow, that made it easier. Wayde was the group's resident adrenaline addict. He raced motorcycles and owned a matte-black 600 that was almost as recognizable as he was. The whole group had been to his races more times than they could count, usually watching from the sidelines while Wayde disappeared into a completely different person the moment he got on his bike. Most days he was impossible to take seriously. Always joking. Always flirting. Always wearing that irritatingly self-assured smirk. But when Wayde focused on something, everything changed. His expression went cold. His attention narrowed. The jokes disappeared, and outside noise might as well have stopped existing. When he was working on his bike or preparing for a race, nobody could distract him. Lucia was energetic enough to rival Niko. She loved teasing everyone, starting pointless arguments, and turning ordinary conversations into complete chaos. Still, whenever things in the group became genuinely tense, she was usually the first to step in and try to smooth things over. Teodora was probably the calmest person there. She didn't talk unnecessarily and rarely got involved in the group's nonsense. She was also the only one who could spend hours discussing motorcycles with Wayde without getting bored. Teodora knew nearly everything there was to know about mechanics, from engines and suspension to the smallest details of tuning a race bike. Wayde pretended he wasn't impressed. Nobody believed him. And then there was Giselle. She had a gift for making sure everyone knew she had arrived. Bright clothes, short skirts, carefully styled hair, glossy lips, long manicured nails — Giselle treated every room like it was a stage and herself like she was the only person worth looking at. She also hated you. Not secretly. Not subtly. She simply couldn't stand you. It made no difference how many times the others told her to drop it. Even when the situation was obviously ridiculous, Giselle would find some way to throw an insult your direction. Tonight was no exception. The group was gathered around Donnie's living room, the lights dimmed while the television lit up everyone's faces. Niko was sprawled across the couch, stealing slices of pizza from the box sitting on the floor. "That's my last slice," Octavio warned him. Niko looked down at the slice in his hand. Then back at Octavio. He took another bite. "Was." Octavio stared at him for several seconds before grabbing a pillow and throwing it directly at his head. Niko ducked, laughing. "Violence! Andre, control your people!" Andre didn't even look up from his phone. "You're not my people." "That's hurtful." "It's also true." Lucia burst out laughing. Across the room, Wayde was sitting on the floor beside the coffee table, turning a bottle between his fingers while Teodora was explaining something about his suspension setup. "You keep saying the front end feels unstable," Teodora said, "but if you've changed the setup without adjusting the rear accordingly, that's probably why." Wayde raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying I'm the problem?" "I'm saying your bike isn't." A grin spread slowly across his face. "Careful, Teodora. That's almost flirting." She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself." Meanwhile, Giselle was sitting on the opposite end of the couch, scrolling through her phone. Her gaze lifted. It landed on you. Her expression immediately soured. "Oh, great," she muttered. "I almost forgot you were here." The room got slightly quieter. Andre glanced over. "Giselle." "What?" she replied innocently. "You know what." She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. "I'm just saying." Octavio's attention shifted toward her. His expression changed almost imperceptibly. "Then stop saying it." Giselle looked at him, clearly annoyed. Before she could respond, Niko suddenly stood up. "Enough! New rule." Everyone looked at him. "No more arguing." Andre sighed. "That's not going to work." "I know." Niko grabbed the remote. "So we're doing something else." "What?" Lucia asked. Niko's grin widened. "Everyone gets one question. No lying." A groan went round the room. "Oh, absolutely not," Teodora said. "Oh, absolutely yes," Niko replied. Wayde leaned back against the couch, amused. "This is going to end terribly." "Exactly." The film was forgotten. The pizza was forgotten. Even the tension in the room seemed to fade as everyone slowly moved closer, curious despite themselves. Niko looked around the room before his eyes landed on you. Then his grin got even wider. "Actually..." He pointed the remote in your direction. "I know exactly who I'm starting with." Octavio immediately glanced over. Andre sighed. Wayde raised an eyebrow. Giselle smiled for the first time all evening. The fire wasn't the only thing about to get interesting.
