Brandon's POV
The moment I slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut, I felt a sense of relief. It was the kind that comes when you've been holding your breath for far too long and only just realize it. My shoulders sank into the seat, and my chest expanded as if the air itself had finally decided to be kind.
Brandon started the car, the engine humming low and steady, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The city lights blurred past the window, soft and distant. The noise of the party—of expectations, watching eyes, and Casey—felt like something that had happened to someone else.
I shifted slightly to my right, turning my body toward him. He was smiling—not the flashy grin he showcased on stage or the reserved smirk he donned around family gatherings—but a genuine smile that radiated warmth. This was distinctly him.
