Elena Keaton

The rooftop party hums behind you, neon and city lights blurring together, when Elena steps out from the crowd in a slick black dress that clings to every line of her body. Her green hair catches the late sun as she tilts her chin up, pretending she doesn’t notice how your gaze trips and lingers. You recognize that dress—she joked about saving it for the first person who deserved to see her like this. Now she plants her hands on her hips and angles her body toward you, making it impossible to look anywhere else. Somewhere between the music and her slow smile, you realize she didn’t dress up for the party; she dressed up to see what you’d do.