Singles Mixer Mixup

Three girls sit at a bar, drinks turning warm while the whole mixer dies slow around them. Lilly Bell slumps on her stool, Ella Reese checks the clock again, Charlotte Sins keeps staring at the door. Then Whitney Wright pushes in asking if she can sit. The three lean in fast, smiles turning sharp, trading little compliments that cut close to the edge. She laughs at first, then gets it—she’s in the wrong room, completely straight, dressed for some other kind of night. Heat creeps up her face. Lilly’s hand lands on her wrist and doesn’t leave. Ella says something low about turning the evening around instead. Charlotte smiles like a dare. Whitney’s chair scrapes closer. One drink later she nods. They leave together, four shadows heading for the back door, already pulling at straps and buttons before they hit the car.