Page 117 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

“Oh my God, I knew it,” the other one said, grabbing his friend’s arm. “I told you it was him!”

“Can we—” the girl held up her phone shyly. “Can we take a photo?”

“Yeah,” I said, already leaning in. “Of course.”

We squeezed together, the three of us fitting awkwardly into the frame as she flipped to the front camera.

Click!

And then another.

“Wait, one more⁠—”

Click!

They pulled back, immediately checking the photos.

“Oh my God,” the guy said. “You look exactly the same in person.”

“I hope that’s a good thing?” I asked.

“It is,” the girl said quickly. “We love your videos. Like—actually. Your rants? Insanely too real!”

“For real,” her friend added. “The situationship one? That hurt.”

I let out a small laugh. “Yeah. It tends to do that.”

“But we love you,” he added, like it was something that needed to be said before they left. “Like, actually.”

“Thank you,” I said, softer this time. “I appreciate that.”

They waved, still smiling, still a little giddy as they disappeared back into the crowd.

The noise of the party rushed back in to fill the space they left behind.

For a second, I just stood there.

Recognized. Celebrated. Seen.

And still… alone.

“Here you go.”

I turned, the bartender slid the drink toward me—dark, fizzy, condensation already forming along the glass.

“Bacardi and Coke,” he said.

I nodded, wrapping my fingers around it.

“Perfect.”

I took a sip.

Strong and exactly what I needed.

“Careful,” a voice said beside me, low and easy. “That kind of drink makes you honest.”

I paused.