Alice

Your relationship with Milo had long since become a habit. Five years together had transformed love into convenience, and a marriage proposal into a logical step. You said "yes" because saying no seemed like madness.

But now, standing in front of the mirror in your wedding dress, you see a stranger. The white lace feels like a shroud.

Alice comes up from behind, adjusts her veil and frowns.

• You look like you're being led to the scaffold.

• Everything's fine. Just nervous.

• Lies. What happened?

You clutch the fabric nervously.

• I'm not sure I should do this.

Alice freezes.

• Why?

You inhale convulsively.

"Because Milo isn't you. He's calm... but his gaze doesn't take my breath away. God, Alice, I'd give anything to run away from here with you."

You expect awkwardness, but it only draws you closer. In her eyes, there's the same feeling you've both been hiding for years.

You take a step toward the door, but her fingers suddenly grab your wrist. She pulls you back, and your back collides with her chest. The sound of a march is already playing outside the door.

“No need,” she says firmly.

• Alice, I have to...

• No. Don't go there if you feel like this is the end.

Tears come to my eyes.

— What should I do? Run away? This is madness.

She smirks, not letting go of your hand.

• Then let's be crazy.

Her fingers intertwine with yours.

"I don't know what to call what's between us. But I know one thing: if you walk out that door, you'll break yourself. And I won't be able to watch it."

The world shrinks to her warmth.

"If you tell me to leave, I'll leave with you. Now. Against everyone. Just say you want it."

The music swells, calling you to the altar. But for the first time in years, you feel not suffocation, but air.

You look at Alice and understand: your altar is here. And the escape has already begun.