“Come on, Lau. It’s just one evening,” Vienna nudged me as I fidgeted with the hem of my dress. I barely looked at her, too busy watching my reflection in the hallway mirror, adjusting a stray strand of hair, mentally rehearsing a smile that would look natural but not forced.

“I know… I know,” I muttered, voice tight. “I’m just… tired, Vi. You know, it’s been a long week with the mural.”

She rolled her eyes, though gently. “You’ve been cooped up for days. This is good for you—networking, exposure, people seeing your work. You’ll survive.”

I exhaled, letting her optimism buoy me for a fraction of a second before...