The bottle slowed.
The glass neck dragged across the table, turning lazily under the flashing club lights.
Then it stopped.
Pointing directly at Stephanie.
For a brief moment, the table went quiet.
Then someone laughed.
"Well, well… birthday girl," one of Ethan's friends said, leaning forward with obvious excitement. "Looks like it's your turn."
Stephanie stared at the bottle for a second before lifting her eyes.
Across from her, Ethan lounged comfortably in his seat, his arm draped over the back of the couch like he owned the entire place.
He looked amused.
Like this was entertainment.
"Truth or dare?" the guy asked.
Stephanie didn't hesitate.
"Dare."
A few whistles broke out around the table.
"Damn."
"She came to play tonight."
"I like this already."
The guy rubbed his chin dramatically as if thinking hard.
Then a slow grin spread across his face.
"Alright," he said. "Seven minutes."
Someone snorted.
"Original."
But he lifted his hand.
"Not with someone here."
Several people leaned closer immediately.
"You have to pick any man in the club."
The reaction was instant.
"What?"
"Oh that's evil."
"Now that's interesting."
The guy shrugged casually.
"Seven minutes in the private lounge down the hall. Door closed."
He looked directly at Stephanie.
"No backing out."
For a second, the group looked stunned.
Then several heads slowly turned toward Ethan.
"Well… that's easy," one girl laughed.
"Birthday reward."
Another guy slapped Ethan lightly on the shoulder.
"Looks like she's coming for you, man."
Ethan leaned back deeper into the couch, swirling the drink in his glass.
The faintest smirk touched his lips.
He didn't stand.
Didn't say anything.
Didn't even look like he expected to move.
Like the decision had already been made for her.
Like she had nowhere else to go.
Stephanie watched him.
Two years.
Two years of being with him.
And he couldn't even pretend to care.
Beside him, the girl he had kissed earlier was still sitting comfortably close, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
Stephanie felt something cold settle inside her chest.
Slowly, she pushed her chair back.
The sound scraped lightly against the floor.
A few people straightened.
"Well?" someone asked.
Stephanie stood.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then someone teased,
"Steph, don't overthink it. Ethan's right here."
A few people laughed.
But Stephanie didn't look at him again.
Instead, she turned her head and scanned the club.
Music thundered through the room while coloured lights flashed across the dance floor. People laughed near the bar, others moved through the crowd with drinks in their hands.
Men everywhere.
She could choose anyone.
Anyone at all.
Behind her, someone muttered jokingly,
"Watch her actually pick someone random."
Another voice chuckled.
"As if."
Stephanie's gaze drifted toward the bar counter.
Two men stood there, leaning casually against the polished surface while talking. One of them lifted his glass, taking a slow drink as if the noise from the VIP section had nothing to do with him.
He looked older than the others in the club.
More composed.
Dressed in dark clothes that fit him effortlessly.
His attention was still on the man beside him.
Not the game.
Not the table.
Not her.
Stephanie started walking.
At first, no one noticed.
Then someone frowned.
"Wait."
Another voice followed.
"Where is she going?"
The laughter behind her slowly faded.
Stephanie continued across the club floor.
Her heels clicked softly against the polished ground, each step steady.
The bar grew closer.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Behind her, the table erupted into confused whispers.
"No way…"
"She isn't serious."
"Steph!"
But she didn't stop.
When she reached the counter, the man finally noticed someone standing beside him.
He turned slightly.
His eyes landed on her.
For a brief moment, curiosity flickered across his face.
Stephanie met his gaze.
Calm.
Steady.
"Seven minutes," she said.
The man raised an eyebrow.
Behind her, the VIP section exploded.
"What?!"
"No way!"
Someone nearly shouted across the room.
"Is she insane?!"
Stephanie didn't turn around.
She simply waited.