Performed a perfect set to an empty room

I'm on stage and every joke lands exactly right, the timing impeccable, the silence between punchlines golden. But the room is empty—not a single seat filled, just rows of chairs that look like they were used recently, still warm. I keep going anyway because stopping feels like admitting something I'm not ready to say out loud. Then I look down and the dog is sitting in the front row, not barking, just watching me with that patient look she gets when she knows I'm lying to myself.