The countdown hit zero three hours ago. Not to the end of the world—but to the end of the party.
A girl with glitter smeared across her cheekbones stumbled out onto the balcony. Her name was Mira. She was holding two half-empty bottles of something expensive. Her eyes were wide, not with fear, but with the manic glow of someone who had decided that terror was boring. Apocalypse Partys Over-HI2U
“It’s over,” Leo said, his voice raw. “The apocalypse isn’t a party. It’s not a rave. It’s not a metaphor. It’s the end. And we are standing in the middle of it, pretending to have fun because we’re too scared to face the fact that we’re already dead.” The countdown hit zero three hours ago
“I want you to stop,” Leo said. “Just stop. Look at each other. Really look.” Her name was Mira