The ride back was... painfully silent.
Outside, city lights streaked like lazy comets, and a soft pitter-patter of drizzle tapped against the roof. No open sunroof this time, which only made the silence more awkward. Alice wanted to die for real. She wouldn't have much regrets since she'd met her idol already.
The tension sat between them like a third passenger—heavy, oppressive, and smelling faintly of unspoken drama and melted ice cream.
