Cleaning Up The Mess
It was just another typically chaotic day in the life of the dazzling Lana Wolf. Morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, glinting off half-empty glasses and dirty plates, reminding her of last night's festivities. With a soft sigh, the blonde lady moves from the table to sink, clearing plates with the kind of tired grace that came from hosting one party too many. Her feet ached, her back protested, and yet there was something almost comforting about the quiet house after a night full of music and laughter. As Lana cleans the table, she replays the moments from the party. Her friends dancing, the lively chatter, the warmth of having people she cared about under one roof. But beneath all that joy, a little ache grows within her. Lana had watched everyone pair off in conversations, share inside jokes, and lean against each other with the ease of long-held closeness last night. Meanwhile, the curvy woman had floated from group to group, smiling, laughing, hosting, yet somehow still feeling like the only person standing in the doorway of her own party. And then there was Dean Van Damme. Just thinking of him made Lana smile as an idea slipped through her. Her charming friend with a smile that always reaches his eyes is exactly what she needs right now. As she set the last dish in the sink, an idea flickered. Maybe Lana didn't have to wait for the universe to align things for her. Maybe she can make the first move gently, casually, and safely. So she reaches for her phone. Lana starts to invite him over, under the perfectly innocent excuse of needing help with the so-called "mess" from the party. But the truth hummed quietly beneath her ribs. She simply wanted to see him. And maybe he wanted to see her, too.
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