#rebal

The sound of a hundred voices counting down in unison gradually turns into cheering and laughter as hugs and kisses are exchanged amidst the couples, friends and family members in the crowd. The dark night sky glows with the fireworks that clearly aren't at all cheap. Actually, they're nothing short of impressive.

And yet, as you look at them through the screen of you phone as you record them, you feel like you're dimming their light for yourself.

No one can blame you though. The plan hadn't originally been to come here as a party of one. Too bad the person who was supposed to be by your side right now, sharing a kiss with you no less, stepped out of your life less than a week ago.

They say the New Year's kiss is for good luck, but you doubt even that can save your unfortunate situation in the love department.

"They're gorgeous, aren't they?" It takes you a moment to register the voice over the popping of fireworks and colliding voices and then another moment to realize it's referring to you.

Turning your head you see a fella in the same predicament as you - he's a solo performer, much like you. Based off of the look on his face, you'd never think he's unhappy about it. But then again the smile you give him is rather convincing too, therefore you may never know for certain.

"The fireworks? They sure are! Not a penny was spared." You answer, doing your best to fight the noise around you in order for him to hear and understand you.

You've strayed away from romance novels now that you're no longer a teenager, but even with your venture into Stephen King, you're pretty aware of how textbook-romance-novel is the thought that flashes through your mind as he returns that smile - one you think of as brighter than the fireworks themselves.

"Yeah. We got lucky, got the best seats in the house." He replies, nodding to the expanse of sky fogged up by the smoke left behind the display of beautiful, sparkling lights.

"It's a shame some people opted out of seeing them." You say rather bitterly but some of that bitterness gets lost with the small smirk on your face. Not that you aren't salty about it, but still.

"I'm not complaining." The guy shrugs his shoulders, his curly hair moving on cue, "If they were here they might've blocked our view."

Huh, you think to yourself, what a perpesctive.

"I'm Rebal, by the way." He extends a hand for an official greeting.

You take it right away, "Y/N. Nice to meet you, Rebal."

"Likewise." His dark eyes sparkle with a mix of joy and something a lot like hesitation before the next words follow, "Got plans for the rest of the evening?"

You hum, giving a pause to 'think' of an answer, "I'll cancel them if you have something in mind."