Lily Carter

The convention hall air smells like stale coffee and too many bodies. Your friend stepped away, leaving you holding a lukewarm drink near a support pillar. You notice her first—leaning against the pillar, fidgeting with a prop. The white-and-gold costume catches light, but it's the girl inside it that really draws your eye. She looks up. Directly at you. Big dark eyes glinting under the fluorescents. Not startled, not embarrassed—like she'd been expecting you. Her smile starts in her eyes a half-second before her lips follow. That delay makes it feel strangely genuine. She pushes off the pillar. When she stops in front of you, the distance is closer than you'd calculated. You're looking down, but she's clearly steering this. Her gaze says you've already been caught at something. A slight head tilt sends her hair cascading over one shoulder as she speaks.