The Last Goldfish at Kyle's Party

Maya pulled her beanie down lower, the brim shadowing her eyes like a security blanket. The hat was her armor tonight. Around her, Kyle's basement thudded with bass that vibrated in her chest, the air thick with cheap body spray and desperate laughter.

She checked her iPhone again. No new notifications. Just the same three unread texts from her mom asking if she was okay, and a flood of Instagram stories everyone was posting in real-time. Look at us, the stories screamed. We're living our best lives. Maya's thumb hovered over the camera button, but she couldn't bring herself to perform joy she didn't feel.

"Hey."

Maya jumped. A guy she didn't know stood there, holding a plastic cup. His eyes were red-rimmed.

"You're blocking the fish bowl," he said.

She stepped aside, revealing a tiny glass bowl on the shelf behind her. Inside, a single goldfish swam in slow circles, its orange scales dulled under the blacklight.

"He's been in there for like, three hours," the guy said quietly. "Kyle got him for decoration. Can you believe that? Decoration."

Maya looked at the fish, then at the party—everyone performing, everyone watching, everyone curating their lives like social media posts even offline. The fish just swam, completely himself, trapped but somehow free of all the pretending.

"My goldfish died last summer," she found herself saying. "I cried for a week. Everyone made fun of me."

"That's messed up," the guy said. "Grief is grief."

They stood there for a moment, two strangers awkwardly united by a fish that neither of them owned. Maya realized she'd stopped checking her phone. The hat still shielded her face, but for the first time all night, she didn't want to hide.

"I'm Leo," he said.

"Maya."

"Wanna get him out of here?" Leo nodded at the bowl. "My dorm has a proper tank. I've got water conditioner and everything."

Maya looked around the party, at all the people performing happiness for an audience that wasn't really watching. Then she looked back at the fish, swimming his tiny circles, completely unbothered by it all.

"Yeah," she said, pushing her phone deep into her pocket. "Yeah, let's rescue him."

She slipped off her hat and shook out her hair. Something about tonight was going to be real.