The rain drummed against the window, and I sat alone in The Brew, staring out at the misty streets. The weather had shifted overnight, turning the once-clear skies into a dreary gray that mirrored my mood. The coffee shop buzzed with Sunday brunch chatter, but it barely registered in my mind. My fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the glass as I clutched my phone in the other hand, scrolling through the unanswered texts I’d sent to Iris since last night. Each message tightened the knot of anxiety in my chest.

My eyes drifted to the lukewarm coffee in front of me, thinking of all the times Iris and I had shared laughing over the previous night’s adventures. It had been our ritual since college, even after I moved away. But now, with each passing hour, the excuse that her phone had died grew weaker, and my worry deepened.

A barista approached, his sleeves rolled up to reveal intricate tattoos on his arms. His bright green eyes held a hint of concern. “You okay?” he asked, clearing an abandoned plate from the next table.

I forced a smile. “Just waiting for a friend.”

“Hope they show up soon,” he said, lingering for a moment before heading back behind the counter.

As he walked away, I dialed Iris’s uncle, Tito Jean. After a couple of rings, a groggy voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Gabi. Have you seen Iris today? She didn’t come home last night, did she?”

There was a pause on the other end before he replied, “Uh, no, I haven’t seen her. Is everything okay?”

I tried to keep my voice steady. “Probably,” I lied, more to myself than to him. “She’s probably just sleeping off a hangover somewhere. Thanks.”

Ending the call, I opened the location-sharing app on my phone and checked Iris’s last known location: the nightclub where we’d partied last night. My anxiety grew as I threw a few crumpled bills on the table and hurried outside into the misty afternoon.

The nightclub’s parking lot was empty, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. My boots clacked against the cold asphalt as I approached the building, my heart pounding. The neon “Open” sign was dark, and an oppressive silence hung in the air.

“Hello?” I called into the eerie stillness, hoping to find a security guard or someone who could help. But my words echoed back, unanswered, like a haunting refrain in an abandoned place. The nightclub seemed completely deserted.

“Damn it!"

I paced around the building, searching every corner, every shadow for any sign of Iris or anyone.

As I circled back to the front entrance, I stared at the door, my thoughts racing. 

“Okay, I’ll come back later,” I told myself, forcing optimism into my voice. “Iris is definitely... probably just hungover somewhere. She’ll turn up.” I repeated the words, trying to calm the storm of negative thoughts swirling in my mind.

Feeling defeated, I returned to my car, my fingers trembling as I reached for the keys. 

“Please be okay, Iris.” I whispered to myself, gripping the steering wheel tightly as fear gnawed at me.

As I started the engine, I failed to notice the shadowy figure watching me from across the street, their golden eyes tracking my every move.

 As I pulled out of the empty parking lot. I cast one last glance at the deserted nightclub, hoping for answers when I returned later.

Once my car disappeared around the corner, the figure melted back into the shadows, a sinister smile curling on their lips.

I drove aimlessly through the city, unable to shake the growing unease in my gut. I didn’t know where to go or what to do. All I could think about was Iris and the terrifying possibility that something bad had happened to her.

As I neared a familiar park, I slowed down. It was the place where Iris and I had spent countless afternoons talking about life. Needing to clear my head, I pulled into the park’s entrance and parked.

I walked to our favorite bench and let the tears fall, overwhelmed by worry. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startled, I spun around, ready to confront whoever had approached me. But when I saw the face in front of me, I froze.

“Drew?” My voice trembled as I stared at my ex-boyfriend, confusion swirling inside me.

“Hey, Gabriella,” Drew said with a sad smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I saw you from across the park and thought I’d say hi.”

I was too stunned to respond at first. It had been years since I’d seen Drew—since our messy breakup had left me heartbroken.

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked.

Drew shrugged casually. “I’ve been back in town for a few weeks, visiting my parents and looking for wedding venues. I came here to clear my head. And then I saw you.”

“Wedding venues?” I repeated, shock evident in my voice. “You’re getting married?”

His smile faltered, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, to Veronica.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. 

“That’s... great,” I managed to say, though my voice betrayed me.

I don’t need this right now.

“Listen, it's a good thing I ran into you like this.” Drew said softly. “I wanted to tell you in person. It didn’t seem right for you to hear it from someone else, not after how things ended between us.”

“Gee, how considerate,” I replied through gritted teeth, but Drew seemed oblivious to the sarcasm.

“I need to meet up with a friend,” I said, heading back to my car.

“Tell Iris I said hi,” Drew called after me.

I was too shaken to care about Drew anymore, but the encounter had stirred up memories I’d buried deep. Without looking back, I hurried to my car, desperate to escape.

The inside of the car felt like a small sanctuary, the rain blurring everything into vague shapes outside. My hands shook as I tried to start the engine, but my thoughts kept circling back to Iris and the fear that something was seriously wrong.

The city outside seemed to weep with me, rain pouring down as if trying to wash away the past. But some things stick with you, no matter how hard you try to forget.

With a sigh, I gave up on starting the car and grabbed my phone. My thumb hovered over Iris’s contact before I pressed the call button. There was a dial tone finally, and for a moment, I allowed myself to hope.

Maybe she was just too hungover to answer earlier. 

But the call went to voicemail.

“Damn it, Iris,” I muttered.

I hung up and quickly typed out a message: “You had me worried. Call me back. I have some chisme.”

Iris could never resist a bit of gossip. If anything could get her to respond, it would be that. Now, all I could do was wait.

Just as I had predicted the text bubbles appeared.