Melvin stills.

Bette doesn’t look up right away, but she feels it, the cold shift that always comes when she mentions her sexuality. The tightening of his posture and subtle change in his expression. She glances at him. There it is, that familiar look, discomfort wrapped in denial. Her playful smile fades.

A beat passes before Melvin’s expression shifts, almost abruptly. He straightens slightly, a smile forcing its way into place as he gives her a small wink. He picked up his glass, taking a measured sip. “So,” he continued smoothly, “let’s discuss how you’re going to approach your salary negotiation.”

Bette watches him for a beat longer before she slowly leans back in her chair. And just like that, as usual, they move on….

***

Bette steps out into the night air, the door closing softly behind her. Philadelphia greets her the way it always does, cool and unbothered. Somewhere down the block, laughter spills out of a house. A car passes, music low, bass thumping just enough to feel. She pauses at the top of the steps, dinner sits heavy in her chest, not the food, but the conversation. Her father’s voice buzzes in her ear. “You should take it…… I’m proud of you.”

Bette exhales slowly, then descends the steps and starts toward the station.

***

The platform is quieter now. Late enough that the rush has thinned, but not empty. A few commuters linger, someone scrolling their phone, another leaning against a column, headphones in, lost in their own world.

Bette steps onto the train when it arrives and finds a seat by the window. The car hums to life, and the city begins to move again.

Bette leans back and just watches for a few beats. She then reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone. A few beats pass as her thumb hovers and then taps search. California University – Art Department.

Videos begin to populate the screen. She clicks on one and watches a student-led exhibition. The camera pans across a sterile white room, paintings spaced too far apart, lighting too harsh. A handful of people stand around, wine cups in hand, nodding politely. No energy. No conversation that matters.