He smiled to himself as he took one final drag from the cigarette between his fingers. The smoke curled into the evening air, familiar and grounding and he crushed the stub beneath his shoe just outside the pub before he glanced up at the sign. Same pub, same slightly crooked hanging basket by the front door, same low amber glow through the windows. A little older now, maybe. A little less chaotic. But stepping inside felt like opening a door to a room that had been waiting for him. Paul shrugged off his jacket and headed straight for the bar, already knowing what Daisy would want. That was the thing about their friendship, time apart never seemed to create distance. He could go months without seeing her, and still know exactly how she took her drink, exactly what expression she'd make if someone said something particularly daft, exactly how hard she'd laugh when something caught her off guard. He watched as the pints were poured slowly, with the kind of reverence Guinness deserved, watched it settle into itself, dark and creamy, before carrying both drinks over to a small table near the back. Taking a seat, he wrapped both hands around his pint, patiently waiting for his best friend to arrive as he scrolled through his phone for a moment. He hadn't realised quite how much he'd missed her until she walked in and his face broke into a grin before he could stop it. "Hey bestie." He was on his feet in an instant, the words coming out warm and full of genuine affection as he crossed the room and pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapping around her as if making up for every missed coffee, every unanswered voice note, every month they'd spent on different continents living separate lives. "Jesus, I've missed you." He pulled back just enough to look at her properly, hands settling briefly on her shoulders. "Look at you. Still causing trouble, I assume." Paul laughed softly, guiding her over to the table. "Already got your drink. Figured some things are too sacred to leave to chance." Once they sat, Paul lifted his pint toward her, allowed them to get all the typical small talk out of the way before he leaned back in his chair, eyes bright with curiosity and a grin tugging at his mouth. "Right then... I want the full Met gala inside scoop." He pointed at her with his glass, then taking a sip of it. "Don't you dare spare me the good bits either. Who was lovely, who was an absolute dose, who looked better in person, and who was held together by hopes, prayers, and industrial-strength double-sided tape?" His grin widened. "And, more importantly, whose after party was worth the loss of dignity?" @dejonesfms
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