Maya was the first to meet him.

They went to a bar—the three of them, George and Viva and Maya, plus Maya's new boyfriend whose name Viva forgot immediately and never needed again. George was on his best behavior, which meant he was slightly quieter than usual and kept his hands mostly to himself.

Mostly.

Every time Viva got up to get a drink, his hand found her lower back as she passed. When she sat back down, his arm went over the back of her chair, fingers grazing her shoulder. When she laughed at something Maya said, his hand landed on her knee under the table.

She didn't notice any of it until later, when Maya called her the next day.

"So," Maya said. "George."

"What about him?"

"He's very... handsy."

"He's affectionate."

"He touched you seventeen times in two hours."

"You counted?"

"I couldn't help it. It was constant."

Viva was quiet. She hadn't counted. She hadn't noticed. It had just felt like George.

"Is that a problem?" Viva asked.

"I don't know. Is it?"

"I like it."

"Okay." Maya's voice was careful. "Just... keep an eye on it, I guess. Some guys use that stuff to distract you from who they really are."

"He's not some guy."

"You've known him five weeks."

"I know enough."

Maya let it go. But the seed was in the dirt.

---

Chloe met him a week later, at a dinner party at her apartment. George spent most of the night in the kitchen, helping Chloe's boyfriend grill chicken, because he was the kind of person who helped in kitchens without being asked. Viva watched him from the living room. He was laughing at something, his whole face lit up, his hands gesturing as he talked.

A normal guy. A nice guy.

Later, Chloe pulled her aside.

"He seems sweet," Chloe said. "But he's very... I don't know. Intense?"

"Intense how?"

"The way he looks at you. Like he's waiting for something."

"He's waiting for me to finish my wine so we can go home."

Chloe laughed. But it was a worried laugh.

"Just promise me you're paying attention," Chloe said. "My therapist says the first red flag is often the one you explain away."

Viva promised. She didn't think she was explaining anything away. She thought Chloe was seeing problems that weren't there.

But the seed grew roots.

---

Nina met him at a brunch that wasn't really a brunch—it was a late breakfast after a night none of them had slept enough. George showed up with flowers for Nina (because he knew she was Viva's best friend and he wanted to make a good impression) and a box of pastries for the table.

"He brought flowers," Nina said later, on the phone. "To brunch. For me. Your boyfriend brought me flowers."

"He's thoughtful."

"He's trying too hard."

"Or he's just thoughtful."

"Viva." Nina's voice dropped, like she was about to say something important. "I looked at his Instagram."

"He barely uses Instagram."

"I know. That's weird."

"Not everyone lives online, Nina."

"His last post is from two years ago. A picture of a sunset with no caption. Who does that?"

"Someone who doesn't care about Instagram?"

"Or someone who's hiding something."

Viva almost laughed. "You think he's hiding something because he doesn't post enough?"

"I think men who are too perfect in the beginning are usually compensating."

"He's not perfect. He's just nice."

"Okay." Nina didn't sound convinced. "Just... be careful, okay? You get swept up. You know you do."

Viva hung up. She was annoyed. But the annoyance didn't sit right—it mixed with something else. Something that felt like the first note of a song she didn't want to hear.