We matched outfits, then matched energy.

 

We didn’t plan it.

The matching outfits, that is. The all-black moment, the double-breasted confidence, her little white YSL bag playing the perfect contrast to the vibe — none of it was premeditated. But when we locked eyes across the room and did the slow double take, it felt like the universe gave a cheeky little nod of approval. Like, “Alright. Let’s see what happens here.”

It started like most nights out do: show up, dab up a few people you kinda know, pretend to care about the music, make strategic moves to hover near the good lighting. Classic. But then you bump into someone, and it’s not just a “hey.” It’s a vibe. Something in their energy. Something that makes you suddenly want to be seen. Not performative, just present.

We talked. We joked. We got weird with our facial expressions for no reason. She tried to lick my face — respectfully — and I let her. (Because what else do you do when someone looks at you like that and sticks out their tongue like you're both 12-year-olds on a sugar high?)

There’s a difference between chemistry and connection. Chemistry is easy. A look, a laugh, the right lighting. But connection? That’s when your jokes land the same. When your silences don’t feel awkward. When you both look this good and still manage to let your guard down.

And yeah, the photos are cute — the kiss, the tongue-out war, the way she tilted toward me like she already knew this night was going to live rent-free in our heads for a while. But what you don’t see is how we cracked open the night with zero expectations and somehow ended up in a pocket of the party that felt like our own little planet. No pretense. Just playful chaos and shared glances that said, “Wait… you too?”

I’ve always said the best nights out feel a little cinematic — but this one felt like a deleted scene from the rom-com they never let the frat boys star in. The one where the sharp-tongued poet and the girl with the electric laugh hijack the DJ booth, make fun of the influencers, and flirt like it’s an Olympic sport.

So yeah, we matched outfits. That part was a coincidence.
But the energy? That was all intention. All unspoken yeses.
And if you ask me —
I’d match it again. Every damn time.