She looked different when she walked in—face blotchy, mascara smudged. “Got a light?” she asked, holding up her half-empty pack. Then, hesitating, “Want to join me?” They stood outside, leaning on the metal shutter, the buzz of the street dimming as she exhaled her heartbreak into the air between them.
That night she told him everything—how she’d just lost her part in a Broadway showcase, how it felt like years of auditions and waitressing had collapsed in an instant. Vincent, who had never dreamed beyond tomorrow, found himself moved. Her heartbreak was loud. Her hope, even louder. And it cracked him open.