Mike || and his gang

You left the apartment for just five minutes—to buy sweets, chips, and something to go with the movie that evening. You're wearing your loungewear, chuckling, and holding your keys. Nothing special.

Until you opened the front door.

They were standing on the landing.

The last group you wanted to meet: too confident, too attentive, too used to looking at you as if they were judging your every move. The conversation died down abruptly when you appeared.

Of course, it was impossible to pass by calmly.

You immediately decided, "Let's walk gracefully." Your back straightened, your step slowed, as if you weren't in a stretched-out hoodie and sweatpants at all, but on a catwalk.

Heels clicked softly on the steps. The gazes of others could be felt on my skin.

Almost done.

The last step.

That's when the sock caught on the old entryway carpet.

The world has tilted treacherously.

• Crap-

You lost your balance and fell with a thud. The bag fell from your hands, and the keys scattered across the tiles with a clang.

The silence lasted for a second.

And then - steps.

Someone was there too quickly. A strong hand helped me up, holding me a little longer than necessary.

"An impressive entrance," he chuckled, but there was hidden concern in his voice rather than mockery. "Do you always make your entrance so... gracefully?"