You shift slightly in your seat before answering, settling on something that feels close enough to the truth without actually being it. “I’ve just been having trouble sleeping,” you say. “Nothing serious. Just… one of those things.” She watches you carefully, the concern in her expression more immediate this time. “How bad?” she asks. You shrug lightly. “Not terrible. Just takes longer than it should. By the time I finally fall asleep, it’s almost time to get up again.” “That sounds terrible,” she says. “It sounds worse than it is,” you reply. “I’ll fix it.” She leans back slightly, still watching you, as if trying to decide whether you actually believe that. “You’ve been saying that to yourself for a while, haven’t you?” You don’t answer that. There’s a brief pause before she shifts the conversation, but not away from it, just around it. “You know what would actually help?” she says. “Not sitting around thinking about it.” You glance at her. “And your solution is?” “A party,” she replies without hesitation. “You go, you stay out longer than you should, you get tired enough that your body stops negotiating with your brain, and then you actually sleep.” “That sounds like very questionable advice.” “It’s effective questionable advice,” she says. “You wear yourself out, crash properly, and if it’s late enough, you don’t even have to worry about getting back. You can just stay over.” You let that sit for a moment, the logic simple enough to be convincing, even if you don’t entirely trust it. She leans forward slightly, her tone lighter now. “Come on. Worst case, you leave early. Best case, you fix your sleep schedule in one night.” “That’s optimistic.” “So are you,” she replies. You consider it. [[Cybercrime/The_Phisherman/Alright, I'll come|Alright, I'll come]] [[No thanks]]