The crowd had begun to thin, the music turning softer like a memory already slipping. Veronica and Vance sat in the corner of the school canteen, not eating, not really saying much. Just... being. The leftover light from the fest flickered lazily overhead, making everything feel a little slower, a little dreamlike.
They talked about random things. Stupid games. Whether orange candies were better than lemon ones. How vending machines always ate your coins when you needed them the most. Nothing deep. Nothing world-changing. And somehow, it was still the most peaceful she'd felt in days.
Vance had his arms on the table, leaning forward a little, chin tucked slightly as if half-tired. He didn't crack jokes or try to sound impressive. He just... listened. Responded in monosyllables sometimes. Nodded. But he stayed, and Veronica liked that.
Her phone buzzed.
Dad: Want me to come get you?
She stared at the message a second longer than needed.
Then sighed. "I guess I'm leaving."
Vance stood up wordlessly. Just stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and started walking. No "let me walk you." No "I'll come along." He just... did.
The two of them walked slowly toward the gate. The night was still, the ground sticky from spilled juice and old popcorn, and the path ahead was speckled with patches of yellow lamplight. Somewhere nearby, a late song played, something slow and soft.
As they passed a large banyan tree, Veronica caught a flicker of motion from the corner of her eye. She turned her head just in time to see a bat glide out from the branches — slick and silent, wings like ink in the moonlight.
She stopped and pointed. "Look."
Vance looked up but said nothing.
The bat disappeared into the night sky, but Veronica kept her gaze on where it had been, a strange stillness blooming in her chest.
There was something quietly magical about it. That flicker of wings in the sky. That someone had been walking beside her the whole time and hadn't said a word but had seen it too.
They reached the gate.
Her dad's car waited just outside, headlights cutting across the road. In the passenger seat, her little sister was pressed against the window, smirking already like she'd seen everything from a mile away.
Veronica turned to Vance. He didn't say goodbye, didn't even look at her directly. Just gave a small tilt of his head — subtle, almost like a blink — and turned to leave.
She got in the car. Her sister, Tea, immediately leaned in with wide eyes and a devilish grin.
"Sooo," Tea whispered like they were in a spy movie, "who was that boy? And what's in the bag?"
"Glow-in-the-dark stars," Veronica said, stuffing the bag under her jacket.
Tea gasped. "He won you the stars? Did he declare his love too? Did he—"
"Stop talking or I'll throw you out of the car," Veronica deadpanned.
Tea grinned. "Ooooh, I'm telling mum!"
Back home, the moment her feet hit her room floor, Veronica didn't even change. She climbed onto her bed and ripped the star packet open like it was some sacred treasure chest. One by one, she stuck the little plastic stars all over the wall above her bed, letting her fingers trace soft constellations into her own galaxy.
Some crooked, some tilted, some perfect.
She turned off the lights.
And there, in the quiet of her room, in the soft, glow-in-the-dark light… she finally breathed.
Peacefully.Slowly.Like someone had paused the chaos just for her.
A smile tugged at her lips.
Maybe stars were just plastic.Maybe bats were just animals.But tonight, they meant something.