Ashley stood in her parents' study, hands clasped behind her back to hide their trembling. The room always felt like a courtroom, with its dark wooden panels and towering bookshelves. Her father sat behind his massive desk, while her mother perched on the leather armchair by the window, both wearing expressions that suggested she'd just proposed joining a traveling circus.

"A Halloween party?" Her mother's voice held the same tone she used when discussing people who wore white after Labor Day. "Absolutely not."

"It's at Olivia Chen's house," Ashley pressed, carefully maintaining her posture. She'd practiced this speech in her mirror seventeen times. "You know, Dr. Chen's daughter? Her mom runs the—"

"I'm well aware of the Chens," her father interrupted, removing his reading glasses. Never a good sign. "But parties at that age inevitably lead to... unfortunate situations."

Her mother nodded, warming to the topic. "Drinking, drugs, fighting—"

"Mom, it's not like that! Olivia's parents will be there." Okay now she was lying. She never went to parties but she knew parents were most likely never involved. Still, she needed this – Luca needed this, "And you know me. When have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

"It's not about trust, sweetheart." Her mother's voice softened with practiced concern. "It's about exposure. One party leads to another, then suddenly you're running with the wrong crowd, your grades slip, and before you know it—"

"Before I know it, what?" Ashley felt something snap inside her, like a violin string pulled too tight. "Before I know what it's like to actually be seventeen? To have one normal teenage experience that doesn't involve SAT prep or etiquette lessons?"

The silence that followed felt thick enough to choke on. Her parents exchanged that look they always did when she showed signs of developing an actual personality.

"I have straight A's," Ashley continued, softer now, calculated. If she pushed too hard. The answer she would receive will be a stern ‘no’. She needed to go about this carefully, "I'm in four AP classes. I volunteer at the library every weekend. I haven't missed a single piano lesson since I was six." She took a breath, steadying herself. "Don't you think I've earned just one night?"

Her father leaned back in his chair, studying her with the same expression he used when reviewing contracts. "And you're certain the Chens will be supervising?"

Ashley forced herself to meet his gaze. Another lie. Another perfect performance. She can’t let it slip, "Of course."

"Even so," her mother interjected, "exposure to certain elements... These events have a way of changing people, Ashley. And you've worked so hard to maintain your standards."

"Maybe I want to change." The words slipped out before she could catch them. Her parents' eyebrows shot up in perfect synchronization. "I mean, not change-change. Just... grow. Isn't that what you're always saying, Dad? About the importance of diverse experiences for personal development?"

She watched her father's expression shift. Point scored.

Her mother must have noticed too, because she straightened in her chair. "Richard, you can't possibly—"

"What if," Ashley interrupted, an idea forming, "I prove I can handle it? I have that big English project coming up. If I get an A, it shows I can balance social activities with academic excellence, right?"

The room fell silent again as her parents had one of their telepathic conversations. Ashley held her breath, feeling like a defendant awaiting verdict. God, it felt so suffocating.

Finally, her father spoke. "An A. Not an A-minus, not an A with room for improvement. A perfect score."

"And," her mother added, "we'll need the Chens' contact information to discuss supervision arrangements."

Ashley's heart skipped. She'd deal with that hurdle later. "So... if I get an A, I can go?"

Another parental telepathy moment.

"If," her father emphasized, "you maintain your current academic standing, continue your regular activities without complaint, and achieve a perfect score on your English project... we will consider allowing you to attend."

It wasn't a yes, but it was closer than the no she'd expected. Ashley forced herself not to smile too widely. "Thank you. I won't disappoint you."

"We know you won't, sweetheart," her mother said, and Ashley felt the familiar weight of those words settle on her shoulders. Those words… her mother said it like she was rooting for her but it felt the complete opposite, everytime.

She maintained perfect posture until she reached her room, closing the door with precisely the right amount of force before diving for her phone.

Luca answered on the second ring. "How bad was it? Do I need to start planning our senior citizen Halloween party for when we're finally allowed out at age forty?"

"They said yes!" Ashley whisper-shouted, bouncing on her bed before catching herself and smoothing the covers. "Well, kind of. I have to get an A on my History project, but that's basically a yes!"

The pause that followed lasted a beat too long.

"Lu? Aren't you excited? We can actually go!"

"Yeah, no, that's... that's great." His voice sounded off, missing its usual warmth. "I just... you really convinced them? Just like that?"

Ashley's excitement dimmed slightly. "I mean, I had to promise academic perfection and possibly forge some parental supervision details, but... yeah?" She flopped back on her pillows, then sat up quickly to rearrange them. Didn’t want the fabric to wrinkle, "Why do you sound weird about this?"

"I don't sound weird." Another pause. In the background, she could hear his sad playlist starting up – the one heavy on Alec Benjamin's more melancholic tracks. "I guess I just... I didn't think you'd actually get permission. Now it's like, real."

"Isn't that good though? We can go together, just like we talked about!"

"Yeah." The word carried about as much enthusiasm as her mother's voice when discussing public schools.

"Luca." Ashley sat up straighter. Luca was being quiet and that wasn’t like him at all. Last time this happened was when he came out to her for the first time. Though, at the time, it was in person and she could visibly see the shaky nervousness that went throughout his entire person but she could still hear him tapping his fingers against something, probably a book, like he always does when he gets overwhelmed. "Are you freaking out?"

"What? No! I'm just... processing."

"Oh my god, you're totally freaking out." She teased but... poor Luca, "Talk to me. What's going on in that head of yours?"

She heard him sigh, followed by the sound of him probably flopping onto his bed. "It's stupid."

"Try me."

"It's just..." Another sigh. "When it wasn't real, it was easy to play along. But now... there's going to be people there, Ash. Real jerks. Who might... see me."

The weight behind that last word hung heavy between them. Never did she realize how much that could affect Luca and how much it still bothered him. What people think about him. Guess she was so used to the outgoing and brave side. This part of him wasn’t the person she gets most of the time. Which means, she needed to treat this delicately.

"Hey," she said softly, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Remember in seventh grade when I had that massive presentation in Peterson's class? And I was so scared I literally hid in the bathroom?"

"Yeah," Luca's voice warmed slightly with the memory. "You were convinced you were going to throw up on your notecards."

"And do you remember what you told me?"

A pause. "You probably shouldn't have eaten those lavender honey cakes?"

"Dang, I really miss those..."

"I know" she could hear him grinning.

"I can't believe they discontinued it!" Ashley shook her head before continuing on track, "Anyways, you did say that. But you also said something else. You said I didn't have to be perfect, I just had to be there. That showing up was the brave part."

The music in the background shifted to a softer song.

"This isn't a class presentation, Ash."

"You're right. It's a party where everyone will be dressed in ridiculous costumes, probably too busy taking selfies to notice anyone else." She softened her voice. "And where your best friend will be right beside you the whole time, ready to fake a crisis and leave the second you give the signal."

"You'd do that?"

"Lu, I'd fake my own death if it would make you feel better. Though my parents would probably still expect me to get that A on my English project."

His quiet laugh felt like a victory. It was sweet and soft and familiar to her.

"We don't have to stay long," she continued. "We don't have to talk to anyone we don't want to. We can just... exist in a space where nobody's expecting anything from us. No pressure, no perfect spoon etiquette, no hiding. Just us being us, in probably really embarrassing costumes."

"Promise you won't abandon me to go dance with some cute guy?"

"Please, have you seen me dance? That would be way more traumatic for everyone involved." She paused. "I promise. You and me, team no-rhythm, judging everyone else's costumes from the safety of the snack table."

"The snack table does sound good."

"Right? And think about it – everyone will be so focused on their own stuff, trying to look cool or whatever, they won't have time to... see anything they're not meant to see."

The silence that followed felt different this time – thoughtful rather than anxious.

"Hey, Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For, you know... getting me."

Ashley smiled, looking at the perfectly arranged photos on her wall – most of them featuring her and Luca through the years, caught in various moments of unguarded laughter.

"Always. Besides, who else is going to appreciate my extensive knowledge of Alec Benjamin lyrics?"

"Oh god, you're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Never. In fact, I think I just figured out our costumes..."

"No."

"Picture it: you as the sad indie boy of your dreams—"

"Hanging up now."

"Wait! What if we did something completely different? Like, I don't know... dinosaurs?"

Another laugh, stronger this time. "Dinosaurs?"

"Yeah! No pressure, no expectations, just two totally non-threatening prehistoric pals living their best life."

"You're ridiculous."

"But you love me."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I do."

Ashley grinned, feeling the last of the tension dissolve. "So... T-Rex or Velociraptor?"

"You're actually serious about this?"

"Dead serious. Most serious I've ever been. This is my serious voice."

"Your serious voice needs work." he was definitely smiling through his words, "Fine. But I call Velociraptor. They're cooler."

"Deal! Oh my god, this is going to be amazing. We can practice our dinosaur walks—"

"I'm regretting this already."

Ashley laughed and the two fell back into their normal banter, the mood much lighter than before.