NEXT LIFETIME³
⚠️: jealousy, unresolved tension, emotionally loaded sibling dynamics, passive aggression, emotionally confusing friendships, angst, barely masked feelings,
1 | 2 prev chapters
🎞️|| you grew up across the street from the thompson twins—your built-in best friends. but childhood closeness doesn’t protect you from grown-up confusion. Ausar kissed you once and never talked about it, and Amen watched you fall in love with someone who looks just like him. All while being in love with you.
“Your energy feels so damn good to me.It picks me up, don't wanna come down. You got me spinning all around”
It had been a while since you’d been over to the twins’ house.
And not by accident.
You told yourself it was just a phase, a breather. Told them you were just busy with work, school, life. But the truth sat heavier than that. You were distancing yourself—on purpose. From both of them.
It had stopped feeling innocent. You started feeling like a barrier between them, the tension obviously thick.
It was easier, once upon a time. Easier when your thing with Ausar was just flirty banter and harmless late-night convos. He was magnetic, and he knew it. Always had something slick to say, always tried to get you to smile, to look at him a little too long. You played along because… well, you liked the attention. Who wouldn’t? It never went past that. And deep down, you knew why. Convenience always was a killer of young girls belief in love.
You used to think you were equally close to both of them. But when you really thought about it, it was always Amen who really felt like your best friend. Amen who you texted late at night when you couldn’t sleep. Amen who showed up when you didn’t ask, just because he knew you needed company without having to say it.
Of course Ausar did the same but as you got older the intentions behind it changed, it wasn’t brotherly love it was lust.
And when that realization finally hit—when it clicked that the feeling in your chest wasn’t friendship anymore—you panicked.
You stopped texting. Stopped calling. Made up excuses. Skipped game nights.
You didn’t want to be that girl. The one who ruined a whole friendship by catching feelings.
But Ausar noticed. Of course he did. He was a whore but he was a thoughtful one.
He called one night out the blue, voice already tight. Told you he felt like something was off. Like you were pulling away from Amen, and especially him, and that didn’t feel fair.
“I just feel left out,” he said, direct like always. “Like y’all got some whole other thing goin’ on that I’m not part of.”
You promised him that wasn’t true. Told him it wasn’t personal.
But it was.
It was personal as hell.
You didn’t know how to be around them both anymore without feeling horribly. Without letting something slip in a look, a laugh, a little too much silence where your body leaned toward the wrong twin.
So you stopped seeing either of them. You stopped going over to their place. Stopped replying. No big blow-up, no dramatic exit—just silence. A slow fade. You figured that was gentler. Cleaner. Let them cool off, maybe figure it out without you being the spark every time they flared up.
At least, that was the plan.
Until Amen pulled up to your house.
He couldn’t take the hint.
At first, it was texts. Just a “you good?” here and there. Then calls. Short ones. Late ones. He left a voicemail once—something quiet and irritated like he was trying not to sound like he cared too much: “You could at least tell me why. I ain’t do shit to you, you know that.”
You didn’t respond.
You couldn’t. Not without risking the same cycle.
But Amen didn’t do space well. And one night, he just… showed up.
You heard the knock. Not a knock, actually. Just the rattle of your front door handle like someone already knew you were home.
“Amen?” you called through the door, already annoyed.
“Open the damn door.”
You didn’t. “What do you want?”
“I want you to stop acting like I did something.”
You opened the door halfway, enough to see the irritation pinched between his brows. Hoodie on. Chain visible. That quiet frustration swimming in his eyes.
“You can't just pop up here.”
“You can just go ghost?” he shot back, brushing past you before you could stop him.
“Amen—seriously—what are you doing?”
He was already pacing in your living room, hands in his pockets, like he was searching for calm. “You really think that’s fair? That you get to vanish and I—we just gotta eat that?”
You leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “I didn’t vanish. I pulled back. For both of y’all.”
“You ain’t do it for both of us,” he muttered. “You did it for you and that would’ve been cool—if you actually told me.”
You looked away.
“I asked you if I did something wrong, and you said ‘no.’ You disappear out my life after 22 years, and I’m just supposed to respect that?”
“Yes,” you snapped. “You are.”
He scoffed. “I know why you stopped coming around. It’s not even about me, but I’m the one standing here while you treat me like I messed up.”
“You didn’t mess up,” you said, voice softening. “That’s the whole point. I just—I didn’t wanna keep being the reason you two go into it. I thought backing up would let you figure y’all shit out without me in the middle.”
Amen stared at you, face unreadable for a moment.
Then quietly, like he hated even asking, “So why you leaving made shit so much worse?”
You didn’t have an answer for that. Not one you could say out loud.
He never let you go, you wanted him to come, even ignoring his messages didn’t stop you from checking your phone every night. You just shook your head and turned away.
He stepped closer.
“You can give me the silent treatment all you want. I would’ve never told you about us arguing if I knew this would be your solution.”
“Ion want nothing else Y/N I just want you to stay.”
You swallowed hard.
“I didn’t think you’d keep trying.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”
It was a Friday—still light out but late enough to feel like the weekend—and you were halfway through a skincare routine when the knock hit your door.
You weren’t expecting anyone, but the second you peeked out the window and saw two familiar heads of hair and plastic bags in hand, your stomach dropped.
You opened the door slow, towel still wrapped around your head, face dewy and confused.
“What the hell…”
“We come bearing gifts,” Amen said coolly, PlayStation tucked under his arm, bags full of snacks in the other. “You’re not gonna make us stand out here, right?”
“I told him you’d be mad,” Ausar added, shouldering his way past you like he still had full access. “But somebody said you needed cheering up.”
You blinked at them.
Amen gave you that calm, unreadable look. Not quite smiling, but soft. “We miss you.”
You tried to hide the way your chest clenched at that.
Ausar was already flopped across your couch like it was his own. “If your floor’s dirty, I’m playing on the counter.”
You stood there for a second too long, towel slipping slightly, heart doing laps in your chest.
Amen stepped inside with quiet ease, brushing past you with a scent you knew too well. Fresh soap, something warm beneath it. Familiar and safe.
You didn’t stop him.
The air had been tense since the second controller passed to you. The banter was too sharp, Ausar’s ego too loud. Amen, as usual, had kept his mouth shut and his body close—sitting low on your bed with his arms stretched behind him like he wasn’t fully tuned in. But you knew better. You felt him watching you. Clocking every shift in your tone, every change in your body language.
You were mid-game when Ausar said it, again.
“You really gon’ pick his team every time, huh?”
You paused, not even blinking. “We winning, aren’t we?”
“That why you stopped coming around?” Ausar scoffed, sitting forward. “Y’all must have been practicing a lot without me?”
Amen sighed. “Man what…”
“No, let him talk,” you said, setting the controller down. “Clearly he got somethin’ to say.”
Ausar leaned back on his elbows. “I already said it. You ghosted both of us—but somehow Amen still ends up in your house. So what’s up with that?”
“I told you I needed distance.”
“You said it wasn’t personal.”
“And I didn’t lie,” you snapped.
Amen sat up straighter. “Y/N…”
“Nah, don’t stop her now,” Ausar cut in. “She’s finally being honest.”
“You want honesty?” you barked. “Okay. You played with me. That’s why I stopped coming around.”
Ausar’s mouth dropped open. “Played with you how?”
“You flirted with me for years, let the lines blur, and every time I got close, you reminded me that I was just the friend. You messed with my head.”
“Oh, so I’m a manipulator now?”
“Um yeah?,” you said flatly.
And then Amen spoke.
“She’s not wrong.”
You both turned.
Amen was leaned forward now, hands clasped, finally looking up like he couldn’t stand being silent anymore.
“You knew exactly what you were doing, Ausar. You just mad now 'cause she saw through it.”
Ausar blinked. “Wow. That’s crazy coming from you.”
Amen tilted his head. “What’s crazy?”
“You think you innocent?” Ausar barked. “Nigga you been playing the long game since jump—sittin’ quiet, bein’ her ‘safe space’, like that don’t count as manipulation too.”
Amen’s voice dropped. “I don’t do that shit cause I want her, that’s just want friends do? Do you hear yourself?”
You raised your eyebrows. “Amen…”
But Ausar was already on ten. “Nah, fuck that. You been in love with her, bro. Don’t even lie. You played the patient card hoping I’d fumble. And now what? You her savior?”
Amen stood up. “Patient card? Good God, do you even know what platonic means?”
Ausar scoffed. “You think she respects you? You’re just convenient You think she want you?”
“Ausar, shut the fuck up,” you said, stepping between them.
“Oh, but I’m the problem, right?” He pointed at you now. “You really sittin’ here acting holy like you wasn’t playing us both. Like you wasn’t eatin’ up the attention.”
You rolled your eyes. “Please. If I wanted both of y’all, I could’ve had both.”
“Wow,” he said. “What a way to be a slut as per usual Y/N”
“Say it again,” you warned.
He held your stare. “You’re. A. Slut.”
You were in his face now. “We’re bestfriends. If anybody know my body, it’s y’all. Be the same ones out here fuckin’ every girl in the world and then reporting back like it’s ESPN.”
Amen didn’t flinch. “Don’t bring me into that.”
You snapped toward him. “I didn’t say you. You think I don’t know the difference?”
Ausar raised his hands. “You choosing now, I’m just the bad guy?”
“I’m choosing me. Y’all been beefing and using me as ammo. Fuck that, if I’m coming between y’all, I don’t need to be here.”
“You never answered the question,” Ausar pressed, now petty as hell. “You want him?”
You turned your back on him. “Grow up.”
He laughed bitterly. “Cool. Take Amen home then.”
You’d seen them fight a thousand times over the years. Over toys, over basketball, over video games, over other girls, but you never thought it would be you.
