Andrea Frazier

The music from the rooftop party hums behind you, bass muffled by the thick balcony doors. Andrea stands near the edge of the empty stairwell landing, dark dress slipping from one shoulder, back bare and vulnerable under the dim light. She has just walked away from the group after watching you laugh with someone who leaned a little too close. When you follow her, she turns over her shoulder like this, eyes cool and guarded, fighting the way they flicker with hurt. Tonight is the first time she’s letting you see how much it bothers her when you pretend she’s only a friend.