Maya didn't answer with words. She just caught the rhythm. The song was a dare, a high-voltage reminder that gravity is only a suggestion.
The neon sign outside "The Rebound" flickered, casting a rhythmic pink glow over the rain-slicked pavement. Inside, the bass wasn’t just heard; it was felt in the marrow of your bones.
"You okay?" Sarah shouted over the beat, grinning as she slid a glass across the sticky bar top.
Maya adjusted her leather jacket, the silver studs catching the strobe lights. It had been three months since the "Great Collapse"—the breakup that had left her apartment feeling like a tomb. But as the first brassy notes of "Bounce Back" tore through the speakers, that version of her felt like a stranger.