(Michelle POV — Re-entering the Noise)
Rejoining the group felt like stepping out of a snow-globe and straight into a musical number that had never heard of volume control.
Vince had claimed a corner of the night market like a dramatic monarch and was now pointing furiously at a vendor's grill as steam curled around his perfectly styled hair.
"I don't care if it's artisanal," he declared with conviction. "If the octopus doesn't emotionally support me, I'm requesting a full refund and a handwritten apology."
Jeff blinked. "You need therapy."
"I have food," Vince replied proudly. "Same thing."
Kate laughed as she handed me a cup of deep red liquid. "Mulled berry tea. Supposedly calming."
I sipped it experiment-ally. "Does it cancel existential dread?"
"Only partially," she said.
And then I realised something.
My hands were still warm.
I looked down.
Steven's gloves.
Still on me.
Right.
My heart did a tiny backflip of betrayal.
