You hesitate for a moment, then shake your head. “I’ll pass,” you say. “I don’t drink anymore.” She pauses, the shift in your tone catching her attention more than the words themselves. “That serious, huh?” “Not dramatic,” you reply, offering a small smile. “Just… learned my lesson.” She studies you for a second, not pushing, just taking it in. “Fair enough,” she says. “That’s a pretty solid reason.” “It’s also a convenient one,” you add. “Helps me avoid questionable decisions and loud music in small spaces.” She lets out a quiet laugh. “You don’t need alcohol for questionable decisions.” “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.” “Good luck with that,” she says. You pick at your food for a moment, letting the conversation settle. It’s not uncomfortable, just slightly more grounded now, like something real passed between you without needing to be explained fully. “You know you don’t have to drink to come, right?” she adds after a while. “It’s not a requirement. We’re not checking at the door.” “I figured,” you say. “But it usually ends the same way anyway. People insist, I refuse, they insist harder. I’d rather skip the negotiation.” “That sounds exhausting.” “It is,” you reply. “So I save everyone the effort.” She nods slowly, accepting it without trying to work around it. “Alright,” she says. “No pressure.” “Appreciated.” There’s a small pause before she adds, lighter now, “If you change your mind, you’re still welcome.” “I won’t,” you say, but there’s no edge to it. She smiles faintly. “I believe you.” The conversation drifts on after that, but the offer stays where it was placed, acknowledged, understood, and left alone. For once, it doesn’t feel like something you’re avoiding. Just something you’ve already decided. [[Cybercrime/The_Phisherman/Return to Work|Return to work]]