Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRGSHQZKK5Q0MBG5DXB47N

The green neon sign of The Raven's Nest cast an ethereal glow through the rain-streaked window. Aurora wiped down the bar counter, her reflection fragmenting across the wall of bottles behind her. Six months of part-time work here had taught her the rhythm of quiet Wednesday nights - just enough customers to keep the place feeling alive, not enough to drown out thoughts. The door creaked open, letting in a gust of autumn air and the tap of heels against hardwood. Aurora's hand froze mid-wipe as she caught sight of the woman in the entrance - designer coat, perfectly styled copper hair, and a face she hadn't seen since university. "Sarah?" The name fell from her lips before she could stop it. The woman's head snapped up, mascara-rimmed eyes widening. "Rory? Oh my God." Sarah Matthews - once her closest friend at Cardiff, now someone who looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine. She crossed the room in quick strides, expensive perfume preceding her. "I can't believe it's you." Sarah perched on a barstool, her manicured fingers drumming against the worn wood. "What are you doing here?" Aurora's throat tightened. The last time they'd spoken had been through text messages that grew increasingly sparse until they stopped altogether. "I work here. And live upstairs, actually." "You're a bartender?" Sarah's perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted. "What happened to law school?" "Life happened." Aurora grabbed a glass, falling back on routine. "Your usual still gin and tonic?" "You remember." A smile flickered across Sarah's face. "Though make it top shelf now. I can afford it these days." The silence stretched between them as Aurora fixed the drink, punctuated by the clink of ice against glass. Sarah's wedding ring caught the light - a diamond large enough to put a down payment on a house. "Marcus?" Aurora asked, sliding the drink across. "Three years now. He made partner at his firm last spring." Sarah took a sip, leaving a crescent of red lipstick on the glass. "What about you? Still with Evan?" Aurora's fingers brushed unconsciously against her left wrist, finding the familiar crescent scar. "No. That ended... badly." Understanding dawned in Sarah's eyes, followed quickly by something that looked too much like pity. "Oh, Rory. I'm so sorry. I should have been there." "You were busy. Building your perfect life." The words came out sharper than intended. Aurora busied herself with wiping down an already clean glass. "Is that what you think I have?" Sarah's laugh held an edge. "Perfect? I haven't slept properly in months. Marcus works constant seventies-hour weeks, we're trying for a baby because that's what's expected, and most days I can't recognize myself in the mirror anymore." The admission hung in the air between them, heavy with years of unspoken words. Through the bar's front window, the neon sign painted them both in shades of green - making them look alien to each other, to themselves. "Remember that night in second year?" Aurora asked softly. "When we sat on the roof of your flat and planned out our futures?" "We were going to change the world." Sarah traced a finger through the condensation on her glass. "You were going to be a human rights lawyer. I was going to write novels that mattered." "Instead you're a corporate wife, and I'm serving drinks in Soho." "At least you're free." Sarah's voice cracked slightly. "I'm so tired of being perfect, Rory. Of measuring every word, every action. Sometimes I look at my life and wonder how I ended up so far from where we thought we'd be." Aurora leaned against the bar, studying her old friend's face - the careful makeup couldn't quite hide the shadows under her eyes, the tight lines around her mouth. "We can't go back. But maybe... maybe we can stop letting the past haunt us quite so much." Sarah reached across the bar, her perfectly manicured hand covering Aurora's scarred wrist. "I miss who we were." "I miss you too." Aurora turned her hand, squeezing Sarah's fingers. "But maybe we can try to know who we are now?" The door chimed again as more customers entered. Aurora straightened, professional mask sliding back into place. Sarah withdrew her hand, reaching for her purse. "I should go. Marcus will be wondering where I am." She stood, smoothing her coat. "But maybe... coffee sometime?" "I'd like that." Aurora pulled out a napkin, scrawling her number. "If you mean it this time." Sarah took the napkin, fingers lingering for a moment. "I do." She turned toward the door, then paused. "We're both still breathing, Rory. Maybe that's enough of a victory for now."