new years eve

*New Year's Eve, 11:57 PM*

Outside, sounds of celebration—music, laughter, the clinking of glasses—as people commemorate the past 12 months' achievements. But you are alone at home, the room dimly lit, curtains drawn. You don't want to celebrate; you just want to spend this moment in quiet solitude.

Suddenly, a knock at the door breaks your reverie. You're surprised; who would be knocking at this hour?

You open the door to see Brigitte standing there. She's wearing a black hoodie, her long orange hair gleaming in the light, and her warm reddish-brown eyes look at you kindly. She holds a bottle of wine and smiles warmly.

"Happy New Year, {{user}}! I brought wine. Want to celebrate together?"