Across the rooftop, Brennen was smiling.

He was good at that. Smiling at the right moments, with the right amount of warmth, in a way that gave nothing away. Six years of being someone everyone liked had made it instinctive.

He found Qinny across the rooftop.

She was walking toward Dorian.

He watched her reach him. Watched Dorian watch her approach. Watched the two of them say something to each other that made the corner of Dorian's mouth do something Brennen couldn't quite read from this distance.

Alicia said something beside him.

Brennen laughed.

Looked back at the rooftop.

At his girlfriend and his girlfriend's sort-of-acquaintance standing together in the middle of a party game they'd been randomly assigned to and looking, from thirty meters away, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

He kept smiling.

Filed it somewhere he wasn't going to look at tonight.

Round one, he thought. Trivia.

He turned to Alicia, plastering a polite smile.

"Right," he said. "Let's do our best, Alicia."

Round one was trivia.

Jessica had printed actual question cards, which meant she had prepared for this specifically, which also meant nobody was getting out of it easily.

The pairs spread across the rooftop in loose clusters — some standing, some pulling chairs together, everyone holding drinks and pretending they weren't competitive while being extremely competitive.

Qinny and Dorian found a spot near the far end.

"Okay," Qinny said, turning to face him fully. "Ground rules."

Dorian looked at her. "It's trivia."

"Exactly. So. Ground rules."

"There are no ground rules for trivia."

"There are always ground rules." 

She held up a finger. "One. I answer anything pop culture, current events, general knowledge."

"Sure."

Second finger. "Two. You answer anything numbers, history, business."

"Understood."

"Three—"

"Is there a three."

"Three," she continued, "we don't second guess each other. Once we commit to an answer, we commit."

Dorian looked at her for a moment.

"Are you—," he said.

"Yes, I'm sure," she cut him off, knowing what his next word was going to be. "Right now, you're literally the only person I can trust completely."

Something moved across his face. Briefly.

"Fine," he said. "We don't second guess each other."

Qinny nodded. Extended her hand.

He shook it.

They both looked at the handshake one second too long before letting go.

"Okay," Qinny said. "Let's go."

They were good.

Not immediately of course.

Jessica had designed the trivia with what appeared to be deliberate chaos, mixing difficulty levels in a way that made no logical sense. One question about the capital of Mongolia followed directly by one about a specific Malaysian indie band's second album release year.

Dorian got Mongolia without hesitating.

Qinny got the band by pure instinct and a half-remembered Spotify rabbit hole from two years ago.

"How did you know that," Dorian said.

"I contain multitudes."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

By round three they had developed a system without discussing it. 

The system was simple. 

Qinny would either lean forward; meaning she knew the answer, or go slightly still; which signalled his turn. As for Dorian, he'd either answer immediately or glance at her, which meant he wasn't certain and needed her to confirm.

It worked with a fluency that had no business existing.

After all, they've been giving all the right answers and their teamwork was impeccable for two people who were randomly paired.

Jessica noticed.

She was hosting from the center of the rooftop, moving between pairs with the energy of someone conducting an experiment. She paused at their end during round four, watching them answer a question in under three seconds through what appeared to be eye contact alone.

"Okay," she said. "How are you doing that."

"Doing what," Qinny said.

"The thing." Jessica gestured between them. "The silent understanding-each-other thing."

Qinny chuckled, slightly nervous, "We're just answering questions."

Raising an eyebrow at Qinny, Jessica retorted as she crossed her arms, "You literally just got paired up for a surprise round of games, and somehow you two are in sync. Pretty sus to me."

Qinny went blank, which signalled Dorian to intervene, "It's just a coincidence," Dorian said.

"We just happen to know things that the other don't."

Jessica pointed at him. Then at Qinny. Then back at him.

Made a face that said I'm watching you and moved on to the next pair.

Qinny looked at Dorian.

Dorian looked at Qinny.

"Coincidence? Is that how you describe our dynamic," she repeated.

"It was the most neutral explanation available."

"It was very diplomatic."

"Thank you."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

"You were a little."

She bit the inside of her cheek.

She was.

Round two escalated.

As promised.

And by promised she meant nobody had promised anything — Jessica had simply smiled that smile and now there was a back-to-back balloon pop, a blindfolded obstacle course, and what appeared to be a raw egg situation that the entire rooftop had opinions about.

"JESSICA, HOW IS THIS GAME COASTAL??" someone yelled when the egg appeared.

"IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, SUCK IT UP," Jessica yelled back, completely unrepentant.

The back-to-back balloon pop required pairs to stand pressed together and use only their combined body weight.

Qinny turned to Dorian.

Dorian turned to Qinny.

"We have to—" she started.

"I'm aware."

"Back to back—"

"I'm aware, Qinny."

"Right." She cleared her throat. "Okay."

"Okay," he said.

The two got into position and neither of them moved for approximately two seconds.

"This is fine," Qinny said.

"It's a balloon," Dorian said. "Against our backs."

"I know what it is."

"Then stop narrating."

"I narrate when I'm processing—"

"Everyone ready?" Jessica called.

"YES," Qinny said, slightly too loudly.

They squirmed a little, getting their balloon ready. The balloon went between Qinny's shoulder blades and Dorian's midback. 

Even with the balloon between them, she could feel him breathing.

"You good there?" he said, quietly, close to her ear.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. I'm ready."

Dorian gave a small nod to her response.

As soon as everyone was holding their game-ready poses, Jessica scans the pairs on the floor, balloons between their bodies.

"Alrighty guys, get set... One, two... POP!" Jessica yelled, starting up the game.

Every single pair were struggling to pop their balloons, just as Qinny and Dorian were.

"More pressure," Dorian urged.

She shifted her weight more towards him, "I'm trying!"

"More."

"In case you haven't noticed, I am a small person—"

"You once broke someone's nose."

"Wha— That was PRIMARY SCHOOL!"

She pushed harder. He pushed back. The balloon shifted, adjusted, and then—

POP.

"HECK YEAH!" Qinny spun around immediately, hand up without thinking.

Dorian looked at her raised hand for exactly one second.

Then raised his.

A proud Qinny was staring at him with a wide smile, "Good job, partner!"

He couldn't help but smirk at her, pressing his palm flat against hers. 

It was not a high five exactly. 

Just — that. 

Hands meeting. One beat.

Then both of them lowered their arms like it was nothing.

"Next round," Dorian said.

"Next round," Qinny agreed.

Across the rooftop, Yris watched this from her position beside Barry, who was saying something she wasn't hearing.

She watched Qinny spin around.

Watched the smirk.

Watched the hand.

Watched Dorian's response — the unhurried, deliberate, the specific quality of someone choosing to do something rather than just reacting to it.

She looked away.

Smiled at whatever Barry had said.

And said nothing.

She reached for her drink. It was probably nothing. Both Brennen and her agreed during their text after all.

Round three. 

The blindfolded obstacle course was exactly what it sounded like.

One partner blindfolded, the other navigating verbally from the sideline.

Qinny blindfolded Dorian first.

"Okay," she said. "Three steps forward."

He took three steps forward.

"Now left."

He went left.

"No — YOUR left—"

"That was my left—"

"That was MY left from where I'm standing—"

"Those are not the same coordinate system—"

"JUST GO LEFT—"

"WHICH LEFT, QINNY—"

"THE LEFT THAT GETS YOU AROUND THE CHAIR—"

He went left. Got around the chair. The rooftop erupted.

They completed it in the second fastest time.

Then it was Qinny's turn.

She tied the blindfold on and immediately felt the specific vulnerability of not being able to see anything at a rooftop party where she knew at least two people had complicated feelings about her existence.

"Okay," Dorian said. From somewhere to her right.

His voice was calm. The exact same tone he used for everything — spreadsheets, surveillance, soju, and now navigating her through a blindfolded obstacle course at a birthday party.

Somehow that was the most reassuring thing about it.

"Forward," he said. "Four steps."

She went forward. Four steps.

"Stop. Chair on your left. Step right."

She stepped right.

"Good. Now forward again. Two steps. Stop."

She stopped.

"There's a gap here. Step over it — it's smaller than it looks."

"How do you know what it looks like to me."

"I'm estimating."

"That's not exactly—"

"Step over it, Qinny."

"Okay, okay!"

She stepped over it.

The rooftop cheered.

She pulled the blindfold off and found Dorian three feet away watching her with the expression she'd started cataloguing — the one that meant something had happened and he'd decided not to make it a thing.

"Surprised you didn't panic," he said.

"I did have a trustworthy partner."

It came out slightly more plainly than she intended.

Something in his expression shifted.

"Good," he said, very quietly.

Jessica appeared between them with the clipboard.

"Congrats, you're going to the final round!"

Final Round.

The egg round turned out to be toss-and-catch across increasing distances, which was both better and worse than the alternative.

They made it to eight feet.

Then ten.

At twelve feet Qinny fumbled, bobbled, caught it against her chest at the last second with a sound she was choosing to never acknowledge.

"Don't," she said, pointing at Dorian across the distance.

"I didn't say anything."

"Your face said something."

"My face is neutral."

"Your face is LAUGHING at me."

"Catch the egg."

She caught the egg.

They made it to sixteen feet before Dorian fumbled — cleanly, without drama, the egg hitting the floor and ending their run.

Qinny stared at him.

He looked at the broken egg.

Then at her.

"That," he said, "was not ideal."

Qinny burst out laughing.

Not the quiet kind. The real one — open and unguarded and completely unmanaged.

Dorian watched her laugh.

And didn't look away.

They came third overall.

Jessica announced this with the energy of someone who had personally enjoyed every moment of the evening.

"Qinnara and Dorian — third place!" She pressed two vouchers into their hands. "Dessert place near campus, you're welcome."

Then she looked between them.

Tilted her head.

"But genuine question," she said, in the tone of someone who had been sitting on this for the last forty minutes. "Are you two actually something? Because you do NOT behave like strangers."

Qinny blinked. "Huh? We're not—"

"Strangers don't get in sync that fast," Jessica continued, gesturing between them with the clipboard. "Like that blindfold thing? That was unhinged. He was talking you through it like he already knew exactly how you move. That's not a first-time thing."

"We just—"

"And the trivia. Love whatever you two had going." Jessica shook her head with the cheerful certainty of someone delivering a verdict. She pointed at both of them once for emphasis. "I'm just saying. Jessica knows chemistry when she sees one."

Winked at the two mischeviously, and walked away to check on her other guests.

Leaving Qinny and Dorian standing in the middle of the rooftop.

In front of whoever had been nearby enough to hear that.

Qinny laughed.

Slightly too quickly.

"Jessica's dramatic," she said, to no one in particular.

"Who knew she enjoys referrring herself in third person," Dorian joked.

Qinny laughed again, even though Jessica's words were on repeat in her head.

The party wound down gradually after the games.

Music back on. People refilling drinks. The rooftop settling into the comfortable low hum of a second-half party.

Brennen found Qinny near the railing and slipped his arm around her waist from behind.

"Babe! Congrats on third place," he said, kissing the side of her head.

"Thank you, babe."

He laughed. Warm. Easy. The genuine kind.

"You two were really good though," he said. And then, slightly more carefully: "How'd you get so in tune with him so fast?"

Qinny leaned back against him.

"He's easy to work with," she said. "I guess we were just lucky."

Brennen smiled.

But his arm tightened.

Just slightly.

Just enough.

Across the rooftop, Yris had found Dorian near the drinks table.

She linked her arm through his.

"Fun night," she said.

"Yeah," he said.

"You seemed like you were enjoying yourself."

"The games were good."

"Mm." She looked out at the rooftop. "You and Qinny work well together."

Dorian looked at his drink.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he said.

Yris smiled.

The pleasant kind. The controlled kind. The kind that didn't quite reach her eyes the way it usually did.

"Good for you," she said.

And didn't push it.

But she kept his arm in hers for the rest of the night.

A little tighter than usual.

Maya found Qinny near the exit at half ten when people were starting to drift toward the lifts.

She appeared at Qinny's elbow with the specific energy of someone who had been waiting for this moment all evening.

"So," Maya said.

"Don't," Qinny said.

"I haven't said anything."

"You're about to."

"I'm just standing here."

"Maya."

"You were very good at the games," Maya said pleasantly.

"Thank you."

"You and Dorian specifically."

"It was nothing."

"Girl, the two of you were more in sync than most K-Pop groups nowadays," Maya said. "And they rehearse like crazy."

Qinny scoffed, turned to look at her.

"Can we talk about this later?"

Maya glared for a bit then sighed.

"You owe me tea," she said.

Qinny opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Looked at the city skyline.

"Brennen's waiting," she said.

"He is," Maya agreed. "FYI, He's also been watching you and Dorian approximately every seven minutes all night. But that's a later conversation."

Qinny went very still.

"See you, Maya," she said.

"See you, babes." Maya squeezed her arm once — genuinely, warmly, in the specific way that meant I'm on your side even when I'm saying things you don't want to hear. "Get back safely."

Qinny walked toward Brennen.

Maya watched her go.

Then looked across the rooftop one last time.

Dorian was standing with Yris near the lanterns, looking at nothing in particular.

Then, for just a second, his eyes moved.

Across the rooftop.

To where Qinny had just been standing.

Maya took a long slow sip of her drink.

Oh damn, she thought.

This tea is brewing in the heat.