Warnings: g!pmegan, p in v, unprotected sex, mommy kink, subby meg, etc.
It was around three a.m.
Outside, the rain was relentless, fat droplets drumming against the glass like a never-ending applause. It was a quiet Saturday. You and Megan were awake, just lying down- well, just you. Megan had been in her gaming room playing on her pc for who knows how many hours.
Her laughter and shouts echoed through the shared bedroom. You rolled your eyes every time she yelled due to the death of her character; the worst part is that you were ovulating and felt more needy.
The sound of the rain was getting louder, and your desire to have her became more insistent.
Eventually, after several annoyed sighs and the hope that she would return to the room with you soon, you sat down, throwing off the comfortable sheets, and walked towards the room; the door was half open, and you peeked out.
There she was, black shirt and baggy light gray sweatpants on, manspreading on the couch with a controller in hand; Palworld blaring through the screen, your eyes shamelessly dropped to the dick print, fuck, did she have to wear gray pants now? and those damn glasses.
With your right hand, you pushed the door open completely, trying to get her attention, but nothing; she had headphones on, her head leaning further towards the screen, her teeth catching her lower lip in concentration.
She was obviously too engrossed to notice you there.
"Mei? Baby..." You call out softly, but it came out more whiny than you expected.
"Mhm?" She murmured without looking away from her screen, thumbs dancing across the joystick, a half-empty energy drink can beside her keyboard. Her glasses slid slightly down her nose, the glow of the monitor catching in the lenses.
"Come on, it's late, baby." You step closer.
She bit her bottom lip, eyes flicking between the intense action on her monitor and the digital health bar of her character. With a heavy, dramatic sigh, she finally released the joystick and leaned back in her chair, letting it spin slightly to face you. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, looking adorably guilty.
"I knowww, I know...but- baby... I need to catch this damn pokemon right now; it's evolving, I can't lose it... if I lose it, I'd have to play for another hour and—"
Her voice cut off as she felt your touch, your hands on her chest, moving up to her shoulders, massaging them slowly. Without another word or warning, you swung one leg over her hip and settled the other the same way, straddling her lap, her back leaning against the chair and your body over hers, trapping her. The joystick clattered against the desk.
"B-baby..." Her breath hitched as she looked up at you; words caught in her throat. Her gaze darted between the screen and you, wavering, but her attention was drawn more to you and your soft, whiny voice; you needed her. Her hands, which had been hovering near your torso, pulling you flush against her body, wandered over your skin beneath your comfy, sleepy shirt; the game suddenly completely forgotten.
"Shh... kiss me." You lean down to meet her parted lips, soft sighs escaping them; your back arches, chest to chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat from the sudden rush. Her glasses pressed against your face, slightly askew, but she didn't care. Your hips grinding slowly, your thighs squeezing her waist tighter.
Your full weight rests gently upon her, she felt the heat of your body through her fingers, making her cock rise. She breaks the kiss with a soft whine, her cock pressing more insistently below you. The gaming headset lay forgotten around her neck, mic dangling. Outside, thunder rolled softly.
Dani's voice brings her back to reality, a reality she had lost sight of while lost in you.
"Megs, are you still there? Come on, we almost got Rayquaza"
Megan froze, the voice cut through the quiet room like a knife. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut at the loss of that rare pokemon, assuming she wouldn't play anymore.
Meanwhile, an amused smile painted your mouth; your hands held her headphones, placing them back on her head. Your lips planted moist kisses on her sensitive neck, making her tilt her head back and sigh heavily.
"Answer them, puppy…" You tease, your tongue tracing her neck, giving her goosebumps. You felt a slight pulse through your clothed heat.
"Girl- are you there...are you alive?" Lara used that country accent, making Megan let out a nervous giggle, her face turning red.
You lean back, smiling too at the sound, your palms on her face.
"Baby...they are gonna notice..." Her hands roam inside your shirt, moving up your back, a shy smile on her lips.
You glance at the screen and then down at her ; her glasses slip down, revealing those shiny big eyes, pupils dilated.
"Mmhh, you wanna keep playing, baby?" You attack her neck again, this time sucking gently, making her whimper, her grip on your waist tightening.
"Y-yes but-"
"Then play...I just need to feel you...stretching me out so so good puppy..." You hold back a chuckle at the teasing tone in your voice, knowing well how she'll react. You feel her cock twitch, a needy whine leaving her lips, and you knew it; she wouldn't keep playing for long.
-
A few minutes later, your hips were moving back and forth with her cock buried to the hilt, your underwear and megan’s left behind somewhere on the floor.
The soft skin of your cheeks pressed against megan’s trembling thighs, and your stomach grazed hers with every bit of friction; at that point, you knew Megan was about to break at any moment. She bit her lip to keep from moaning. The sound of rain and occasional thunder filled the room, matching the rhythm of your hips.
Megan wanted, truly wanted, to catch that pokemon that was so hard to find, to evolve it and gain more strength and abilities; but god, it was impossible. Her fingers trembled on the joystick, making her play clumsily.
"Hey, we still have to open the cards together, don't forget," Lara spoke, laughing because she was teasing Dani by almost making her character fall.
"Girl, you don't even know the names; you just get excited for the pretty ones," Dani playfully yelled as she fell for Lara's ragebait. She kept pushing her character.
"Soo?" Lara giggle at the frustated growl of dani.
Megan was on mute, listening to their distant voices arguing (like always) through the headphones, struggling to concentrate.
She had you whimpering, even with the sound booming in her ears, her attention was entirely focused on the little sounds escaping from your mouth, your hand holding her shoulder and fingers intertwining in her hair. Your grip tightened each time you felt her throbbing inside you; the movement of your hips was torturously slow; her thickness filled you completely; you could almost feel it in your stomach. She was capable of breaking you in two if she wanted to, but she was just a little puppy.
Megan completely forgot about the cards settled next to her pc, gleaming temptingly; she had planned to open them with the girls, but... she got a little busy.
Her thumbs twitched on the joystick, trying to catch a particularly elusive pokemon.
"Babe... Rayquaza spawns in... in..." she trailed off, watching her screen flicker as she completely lost track of the game. Her glasses slipped further down, fogging up from her heated breath. The rain lashed harder against the window.
She was crumbling.
Her headset crackled with Dani and the girls screaming about pulling a holographic Charizard, but Megan couldn't process a word. Your mouth on her neck, the slow, wet open mouth kisses over her pulse point, absolutely destroyed her concentration.
Her glasses slid completely down her nose, the joystick abandoned in her hand. "Mmmph... fuck..."
Megan debated in her mind whether to keep playing or not; her gaze left the screen, focusing on you. Your eyes were fluttering close, your mouth open as soft whimpers left, and your breast bouncing slightly beneath your shirt.
Fuck the stupid game.
With a pang in her nerd heart, she had to close it and postpone the opening of the pokemon cards.
"I-I have to g-go..."
She ended the call and took off her headset, tossing it onto the gaming desk almost carelessly.
Her hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements.
"F-fuck, princess... feels so good..." You smirked and reached for the gaming chair's lever to tilt it further back, giving you a deeper angle. You both moaned in unison.
She was completely lost now, glasses askew, hair messy. The rain outside sounded like thunder compared to the slow, wet sounds of you riding her. Occasionally you replaced your circular motions with up-and-down movements, whimpering each time you went down, the tip of Megan hitting your cervix, the corner of your eyes watering, she was huge.
Your half-lidded eyes were fixed on her face, and her parted lips as low moans escaped them. You grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulled it off, and tossed it somewhere in the room, leaving your torso bare to her; you could see her eyes light up behind the glasses at the sight.
She sat up and began to kiss around your breasts, her tongue tracing your skin until it reached your nipples to lick them gently. Her eyes closed, savoring the softness of your body against her tongue as if you were her favorite meal; one hand gripped your waist while the other rested on your thigh, her thumb slowly caressing, urging you to keep going.
You were melting above her, every touch sending tremors through your body; you could feel the pressure in your stomach on the edge of release. Megan's wet pelvis soaked in your arousal created a filthy, slick friction against your clit. Your hips grind faster, chasing your high, the rapid motion causing her to moan, sending vibrations to your damp skin.
You pushed her so her back pressed against the backrest of the gaming chair, your hands firm on her chest, pinning her down; her glasses almost fell at the sudden force, her head tipped back, mouth hanging open in pure bliss as her fingers clenched their grip.
"Do it, mommy...cum all over me, please"
You let out a broken whimper, your back arched, and your hands held Megan's shoulder and nape tightly; your body tensed as the climax hit, your walls contracting around her again and again, making her cry out, her head digging back into the headrest. The sudden tightness nearly tipped her over the edge, her cock throbbing inside you while your thighs shook around her hips.
Her glasses were completely steamed up, her hands gripping your waist to keep you grounded. She was completely dazed, brain scrambled by the intense sight of you coming apart on her cock. Your walls were still fluttering softly around her, milking her gently.
"I-I'm gonna-"
"Mghh...no-" Before she could protest, you grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting it and placing it in her mouth, a stifled whine trapped inside. Her shirt was pulled up, revealing her abdomen; she shivered slightly as she felt the cold air hitting.
"You keep me waiting for so long...you can wait too, puppy..." She bit the clothing tightly, forcing her eyes shut. She was right on the edge, so close to following you over; she tried to focus on anything else.
She started mentally reciting pokemon stats—Charmander's base speed, Blastoise's defense... anything to distract.
You notice her struggle and lift your hips, pulling her out, a groan stifled as you bit your lip at the loss, feeling completely empty. She squirmed, a loud whine stuck in her throat, eyes snapping open, furrowed brows pleading.
"Shh...you wanna be my good puppy, mhm?"
She nodded helplessly in submission, her fingers wrapped around your waist tightly with the need of feeling you again, her hands trying to guide you back.
"Uh uh...put your hands behind your back," You commanded, cupping her chin, and she obeyed, looking down. Her hands moved from your waist with a soft whine at the loss, but she followed your instruction obediently, her hands crossing behind her back. Her hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white as she surrendered completely.
"Good girl..." You grinned, your pussy coating her belly with your release, leaving it glistening, an involuntary moan escaping your throat, your pussy sensitive due to the orgasms you just got, eyes down to her shiny stomach, you knew that her staying inside would make her lose control.
Her back arched, the skin of her stomach burning hot and slick with you; her cock throbbing painfully, precum spilling down the length, making her eyes watery. Her body went absolutely rigid, eyes squeezing shut behind the fogged glasses. Her hands locked behind her back, practically vibrating with the need to cum.
"Mmph..." she whined desperately against the shirt.
Your gaze was glued to her toned abs, twitching visibly under you, stomach muscles contracting sharply from the denial, your fingertips hovering over her belly, making her tremble.
"Please mommy..." You lift your eyes at the muffled plea.
She looked absolutely ruined—messy hair, foggy glasses dipped as she looked up, her eyes were glassy, tears about to spill down her burning cheeks, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breaths, her teeth biting at her fabric, drool dripping around the corners of her mouth, making her look even more pathetic, and you loved it.
"Mm, baby?" With your fingers, you pulled out the edge of her shirt; her mouth fell open in a desperate whimper of relief. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the shirt, keeping her stomach exposed, your other hand caressing it.
"Please m-mommy...let me cum" Ragged breaths escaping her lips, tears slowly falling.
"Oww poor puppy, so desperate..." You grind your slick pussy from your abs back to her length, rubbing it gently, her head pointing at her; she could feel your cunt throbbing rhythmically, the heat and wetness enveloping her deliciously.
"You can cum now, pup."
"Mghh yes m-mommy..." She whined, hips bucking involuntarily. It was the friction enough she needed it. Her thighs shook, with a broken cry, the tip exploded with release, spurting hot cum onto her own belly. Eyes rolling back behind the glasses, mouth open in a silent howl as wave after wave of orgasm crashed over her, head tipped back against the headrest. The thunder rolled away into the distance. The storm outside had finally broken—just as she did completely. Her hands flexed behind her back, unable to move, totally at your mercy.
She melted into the chair; her glasses were knocked askew, her chest heaving, sticky cum coating her. You lean down; your tongue dragged across her tummy, slowly, humming at the taste, you clean up the mess spilled.
After a few tender kisses, you heard her whisper in your ear
"Can I open the pokemon cards now?
-
Lying in bed, the sheets up to your chest, gazing at Megan with adoration.
Her voice excited as she showed you the cards she’d pulled from the packs spread across the bed; she’d open them and explain everything in detail, pointing a finger upward like a total nerd, like spouting facts.
Her glasses kept sliding down, and she’d push them back up, a gesture that made her look even more adorable. Her lips were slightly parted in concentration as she read the cards, and she’d furrow her brows in frustration whenever she pulled duplicates of ones she already owned.
God, you were absolutely smitten; you let out a soft laugh at the irony of it all, you’d just had sex with her, and not even a second after, she was explaining pokemon cards to you.
divider: @pixopix
Edit: k3tzeyee
-
A/N: This is for my bestie @meiyoknne feliz cum espero te guste👅🫶🏻 (ponele que sigue siendo tu cumple ok...)
bitter ex!daniela who’s blocked on everything. imessage. instagram. tiktok. snapchat. EVERYTHING. she hates that she’s blocked. she always takes one of the girls phone so she can stalk you.
“she’s never gonna unblock you”
“i dont give a fuck if she doesn’t.”
“wait.. can you tell her to unblock me.”
bitter ex!daniela who hates when the girls bring you up. when you broke up with daniela she wanted the girls to stop being friends with you, stop communicating with you… but of course she didn’t get what she wanted.
“why are you guys even still talking to her. no loyalty.
“ughhhhhhhhh stop saying her name around me please.”
“y/n this , y/n that. enough of her.”
bitter ex!daniela who can’t believe you left her. yes it was her fault. yes she was a little toxic at times. all of the empty threats finally turned into you dipping.
“i just can’t believe she really broke up with me.”
“I would’ve fought for us.”
bitter ex!daniela who looks for you at every mutual party you go to. when she spots you, she watches you the whole time. when she catches you flirting with other women she gets heated.
“the fuck. she’s moved on already.”
“i knew she wasn’t shit.”
bitter ex!daniela who asks the girls if you’re talking to anyone else. if you ask about her. if you miss her. anything. but when the girls say you say nothing or don’t ask about her…. boy does it piss me off.”
“she just acts like im the worst person in the world.”
“how doesn’t she miss me.”
“I can’t believe she can just move on so easily.”
“that means I meant nothing to her.”
bitter ex!daniela was livid when you really moved on and got in another relationship. megan came to show her the post and she slapped the phone out of megan’s hand.
“bro I don’t want to see that shit.”
“she doesn’t look fucking better than me.”
“it’s only been 6 months bro.”
bitter ex!daniela who laughed every time she seen you two out in public. in your face and your new girlfriends. she lowkey was hurt inside and she hated seeing you with someone else but, she was bitter and jealous so she was going to hate.
“you guys look amazing together.”
“fuck you daniela.”
“anytime baby girl.”
bitter ex!daniela who finds your new girlfriend social media and leaves petty comments, like ‘she knows where home is’ or ‘you have no idea what to even do with her.’ which eventually lead to her being blocked by your girlfriend too.
bitter ex!daniela who eventually ends up unblocked by you, only so you can tell her to leave you and your girlfriend alone.
“leave us alone daniela. you’re crazy. i have you change after chance.”
“just give me one more y/n please.”
“no daniela. move on. it’s over with.”
“just come home baby please.”
“goodbye daniela.”
bitter ex!daniela who finally chooses to let you move on and stops trying to contact you. she doesn’t ask the girls about you. she doesn’t check to see if she’s unblocked, or if you’re single. but she does know, if you wanted to come back the doors were always open.
Unprotected sex, underwear kink, rough sex, breeding, smut with plot, little aftercare, mommy used once, degradation.
Megan and you had been dealing with this heavy, tense vibe all day. The reason? You’d gotten into a fight that morning.
Megan was carrying way too much stress on her shoulders the upcoming tour announcement, non-stop rehearsals, spending the entire day locked in at the company, and her own perfectionism, even though she was already flawless.
She’d been more distant than usual, giving you barely a "good morning" text and the occasional "good night." You were lowkey feeling forgotten. Your girlfriend barely had any time for you, and it made you feel kinda selfish for even wanting to complain.
It all started when she finally came home after rehearsals, completely wiped out. A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you walked over to wrap your arms around her. "Baby! Finally... I missed you so much," you said, looking closely at her face. Her brow was slightly furrowed, but a faint smile managed to break through.
"I missed you too... I've just been so busy, and I'm exhausted. Rehearsals completely drained me," she sighed. "I know... but it's already perfect. Everything is. You shouldn't push yourself so hard." Megan looked up at you, tilting her head with a frown.
"No... I messed up the last performance," she muttered, sounding irritated. "You don't get it. Everyone on the internet is talking about it, they won't leave me alone," she said, her eyes shifting from angry to a little sad.
Silence...
"I get it..." you said. But she didn't even apologize. Instead, she brushed past you, her shoulder lightly bumping yours as she tossed her bag onto the couch and sat down, trying to catch her breath. "You know, Mei... I feel like you haven't had any time for me lately. I know you're prepping for everything that's coming up, bu-" Megan cut you off.
"Seriously? Why are you coming at me about this right now? I'm trying, okay? Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?" she snap-defended, her voice a bit louder than usual.
Your expression hardened. "Excuse me?" you said. "Of course I know how it feels, Megan. How do you think I feel about all of this? Watching you burn yourself out, feeling like you’re not even here anymore." Megan rolled her eyes, barely trying to hide it. "It's not my fault and you know it.
My schedule is packed. I thought you'd understand."
"Are you even trying? Like, do you even attempt to text back?" you snapped.
"Of course I'm trying! What do you not get? I'm busy. I have things to do. What do you want to hear? I'm sorry." she shot back. That borderline sarcastic apology made your blood boil. "Forget it. Just be right if that's what you want."
It was such a stupid fight. You knew she was busy; it was supposed to be a gentle reminder. Just letting her know you felt lonely while still trying to support her.
Megan bit her lip nervously, finally feeling the suffocating weight of the silence between you two. "I'm sorry. I know... I... I know," she said, her voice still firm but softening up, becoming way more careful. She stepped closer, your annoyance still totally obvious. One more step and she was close enough to cup your cheeks.
Her thumbs gently brushed over your cheekbones, her gaze dropping to see your ears flushing a bright, furious red. She knew she’d messed up, that her words had cut deeper than they should have, but the anger radiating off you was doing something to her. "Let me make it up to you," she murmured, her voice dropping into a low, teasing hum.
You rolled your eyes, a heavy sigh escaping your lips, but your body betrayed youyou didn't pull away, leaning into her touch just a fraction. It was all the permission she needed. Megan leaned in, sealing her lips against yours, effectively cutting off any other complaint you were about to throw her way.
The kiss started as an apology but instantly ignited into something heavy and intense. It became wet, deep, and incredibly provocative, a desperate attempt to drown out the argument.
Blush crept up both of your necks, painting your cheeks a deep crimson. Megan pulled back just an inch, looking at you with those huge, slightly glassy eyes. Those caramel eyes always drove you absolutely insane, and right now, she was looking at you like she was starving, like she needed so much more of you.
A breathless, irritated scoff escaped you as you gripped her waist, pulling her closer despite yourself. "You look so hot when you're mad," you muttered against her lips, your voice thick with frustration and desire. "You're lucky you're hot like this, cause mm... I hate you." Megan let out a soft, breathless laugh against your mouth, her caramel eyes darkening.
"Shut up and kiss me," she whispered, losing herself in you completely.
Megan started kissing you even more intensely, her soft, wet tongue sliding inside to claim total dominance over the kiss. Her hands slowly traveled up your waist... sending shivers straight down your spine as her long fingers gripped your hips, tracing your curves until they reached your breasts. She grabbed one, kneading it right through the fabric of your shirt.
The grip was rough and sudden, pulling a tiny, breathless "ouch..." from your lips, but what you were feeling wasn't exactly pain. You could feel yourself getting incredibly wet, a heavy ache pooling low in your stomach until she wedged her knee right between your thighs. Before you could react, Megan pinned your wrists tightly beside your head, locking you in place.
You were absolutely sure that bruising grip would leave marks. She shoved you back onto the big couch, pinning you beneath her weight, and you couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. God...
"I know you're stressed... so just fuck me and get it out of your system" you breathed, your voice trembling from the pleasure of her weight, her knee being where u needed her to most.
When Megan bit her lip, arching her brows slightly before giving a slow, dark nod, you knew she was going to be completely ruthless with you.
Megan didn't let go of your wrists until your circulation was cut off a little, the heavy weight shifting as she moved down. She was on her knees now, looming over you. Tearing off her baggy sweater, she reached down and began to unbuckle her belt. Her brow furrowed slightly, letting out an annoyed click of her tongue when the buckle caught, but she quickly yanked it free.
Her pants and underwear were pushed down to her thighs in one swift, impatient motion. She looked down at you, her caramel eyes darkening into something primal. Her cock was thick and veiny, throbbing heavily in her hand, the flushed tip already glistening, eager to be inside.
Quickly, Megan rolled a condom over herself and hooked your legs, pulling them almost to her shoulders to make you as tight as possible for her. Without a single warning, she drove inside, starting with deep, powerful thrusts, chasing her own release more than anything else.
Her breathless moans drove you completely wild.
"Ugh... fuck, you're so tight, baby," she growled.
Megan was still riding that wave of pure irritation, and the only thing you could do was take every inch of her big cock exactly how she wanted it, entirely at her mercy until she decided to stop.
"Do you like this? Do you like me using you like the slut you are?" she whispered darkly, but the answer was already wide open in your eyes. You absolutely loved it.
"Yes... mommy, I love how... how you use my body," you choked out between broken moans and breathless stammers, the relentless speed barely letting you form a single coherent thought.
The friction between you was maddening, turning completely messy, wet, and sloppy as she wrecked you against the cushions. Slipping your hands down to grip her hips, you looked down, completely messed up by the sight of where your bodies joined watching her thick shaft slide entirely inside you and pull out, leaving you slick and desperate for the next hit.
Every thrust was heavy, loud, and unaligned, making the sheets and cushions slide around under the chaotic rhythm. Suddenly, Megan let out a frustrated growl, raw heat completely clouding her mind. She pulled out of you, the sudden, cold emptiness making you whine out loud, your pussy clenching at the lost, slightly in protest.
Without breaking eye contact, she ripped the condom off and tossed it carelessly onto the floor.
"Fuck it, I want to feel all of you. Every single part," she muttered, her voice incredibly husky and entirely stripped of her usual control. She also take completely off your underwear, put it in your mouth, the gray cute panties there to silence your moans. Somehow... it worked.
She slammed back into you without waiting, the raw friction instantly sending an overwhelming jolt straight to your core. It was fast, bruising, and beautifully chaotic. The moans were silenced by your own panties in your mouth. Already soaked with your saliva.
You could feel the heat of her bare skin stretching you open, making you sob into her shoulder as she picked up an even more punishing pace. As the final, undeniable wave of the orgasm began to hit you, your walls clamped down hard around her, and you locked your legs securely around her waist, pulling her down into a desperate, tight embrace.
"Inside... please," you begged, your voice muffled, completely undone by the need to be filled by her. "Come inside me."
Megan didn't hesitate. She buried herself as deep as she could go, letting out a shattered, breathless moan as she came, her body stiffening as she filled you completely.
Both of you lay there panting, completely drenched in sweat, with damp strands of hair sticking to your foreheads. The heavy, unmistakable scent of sex filled the warm air of the room, mixing with the sound of your frantic, ragged breathing slowly beginning to level out.
Megan collapsed heavily against your chest for a moment, burying her flushed face in the crook of your neck, before gently rolling off to pull you against her side.
She lightly stroked your damp hair, pull the underwear out of your mouth, Leaving a trail of saliva that shows how much u were biting them. She planting a soft kiss on you mouth as her breathing synchronized with yours.
"You did so good, baby... I'm sorry about earlier. Don't ever doubt how much I love you," she whispered softly, her hand resting warmly over your hip.
You just nodded against her chest, too physically exhausted to form real words, knowing you'd have the actual talk later when the adrenaline fully faded but for now, you were completely content and safe in her arms.
- In which food keeps vanishing from the house, so the members installed a CCTV to catch the mysterious thief. Instead of finding someone stealing snacks, they catch you and their very responsible leader.. sloppily making out in the kitchen.
● (fluff)
___
a/n: this had been in my drafts for a while now so i figured i should finish writing it. anyways, yay, sophia!!
__ __ __ __
______
The biggest crisis that ever hit the Katseye house wasn’t a messed up choreography, not a comeback deadline, not even a broken nail. It was the fact that food kept vanishing into thin air, and no one knew who was doing it.
It started small at first: Daniela’s imported cheese chips she hid at the very back of the pantry behind the flour bags? Gone overnight, not a crumb left. Your bag of sweet treats from your hometown carefully hidden in the drawers? Demolished as well as Lara’s expensive dark chocolate she stashed in the cupboards for stressful practice days. Nothing but a crumpled empty wrapper left on the floor.
Then it got personal.
Yoonchae’s strawberry milk that she lined up neatly in the fridge door, each one labeled with her name in cute pink marker? All gone, only empty bottles rolling around. Manon’s French macarons she brought all the way from home, carefully packed in a pretty box she kept on top of the fridge? Gone without a trace, box left open and empty. Even Sophia’s protein bars she bought for early morning workouts? Vanished one by one.
And the most tragic of all? Megan’s tteokbokki cups, the ones she wrote "MEGAN’S ONLY!! DO NOT TOUCH!!" on with a big black marker, even drew a scary face next to it? Gone. Not even the paper cup remained.
"There is a criminal living among us! A thief! A monster!" Lara yelled during the emergency house meeting, slamming her hand on the coffee table so hard the remote jumped.
"Yesterday I bought three whole boxes of cookies! Three! Today all that’s left is the empty plastic tray! Who eats like a starving gremlin at 3 AM?! HUH?!"
"I swear, I saw someone!" Daniela added, pointing an accusing finger at no one in particular, eyes wide. "Last night I got up to get water, and I saw a shadow wearing a hoodie rummaging near the fridge! I thought it was just me tripping but NO! This is a crime spree!"
Yoonchae looking so broken-hearted, just stared at her palms blankly. "My strawberry milk… I saved that for after dance practice… who would hurt an innocent maknae like this…"
Manon crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "My macarons were not cheap. And they were imported. Whoever ate them is paying me back tenfold. Seriously."
"My mom bought those treats. I almost fought the airport staff at the baggage scanner just to get that through." You murmured out dramatically from your spot at the carpeted floor, fists clenching while Manon shook her head, clicking her tongue.
Megan, who was sitting on the armrest looking extra dramatic, suddenly slammed her fist on the table too, face all serious like she was the biggest victim here. "We can’t let this go on! This is anarchy! We need evidence! We need to catch this bastard red-handed! They think they can just steal our food and get away with it?! NO!"
"Megan, calm your tits." Sophia raised her eyebrow at the younger girl's dramatic aggression, standing up to hold the floor of the emergency meeting.
"Y'all are suggesting that we get a security camera?" She asked out to which the others immediately nodded, chirping their own complaints like they were declaring their rights.
Amidst that chaos, you met Sophia's eyes, nervousness evident on your gaze as you shook your head subtly. You and the Filipina had been dating secretly and for the past few months now, the kitchen had been your secret meet-up spot during late nights so putting on a security camera would definitely catch you two going at it and you absolutely don't want that.
"Guys, I really don't think that's a good idea." Sophia's voice came out way higher than usual.
Megan, already suspicious, raised an eyebrow. "And why not? It's for the greater good of our collective snack security."
"Well," Sophia began, her eyes darting around like she was looking for an escape route, "it's... it's a matter of feng shui!"
Silence.
Like, actual, awkward silence.
Everyone just stared at her.
"The what now?" Daniela asked, looking genuinely confused while Lara just shot Manon a 'what the fuck?' look before her gaze flickered back to their leader.
"Feng shui!" Sophia insisted, waving her hands vaguely around the kitchen area. "Think about it! A camera, with its harsh, staring lens, totally messes with the natural flow of qi in the kitchen. It'll create negative vibes, it'll make.. stale bread, burnt toast, and overcooked brownies! I can't absolutely have that!" She finished with a flourish, like she'd just dropped some profound wisdom.
"We cannot risk the cosmic balance of our cooking space!" Oh, you loved this girl too much. Sophia was really fighting for her life out there.
Manon just looked unconvinced. "Isn't feng shui for like, furniture placement, not security cameras. And I'm pretty sure it won't magically make your brownies overcooked."
"Ah, but you underestimate the subtle energies!" Sophia pushed on, getting a weird kind of confidence. "And the reflections! Imagine, you're just grabbing a late-night bite, and you catch your own reflection in the camera lens! So.. unflattering! Who wants to see themselves caught off guard, crumb on their cheeks, just trying to enjoy a moment?" She shivered dramatically.
"It’s a total invasion of our aesthetic privacy!"
You snorted subtly at that. The only privacy it'll probably invade is you and Sophia's midnight sessions to which is what currently motivating the Filipina to absolutely fight her way to not have your members agree on putting on a security camera.
Lara, who prides herself on always looking put-together, even at 3 AM, paused for a beat, then shook her head. "Sophia, we're trying to stop someone from eating all our food, not setting up a glamour shot."
"And the noise!" Sophia suddenly exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "All those tiny circuits, humming and buzzing inside! It would completely drown out our ability to truly hear the food cooking! You know, the gentle sizzle of frying eggs, the comforting gurgle of boiling water.. that's part of the whole culinary experience! A camera would just ruin it with its mechanical drone!"
Megan just threw her hands up, clearly done with the theatrics. "Sophia, it's a security camera, not a rocket launch! It's basically silent!"
Sophia caught your eye, and you saw a tiny, almost imperceptible wink. Her totally wild excuses were working, kind of. For now, at least. But the others weren't buying it. Not really.
As Sophia continued to throw out increasingly bizarre arguments, Manon and Daniela exchanged a look.
It was that knowing, "she's definitely guilty" kind of look. She's got to be the thief, their expressions screamed. They were totally convinced Sophia’s defensive/nonsense explanations meant she was the culprit. That she was trying to cover her tracks with this ridiculousness and throw them off the scent.
Amd so, later that day, while Sophia and you were out chilling, the rest of the members had a secret meeting.
"She was way too defensive," Daniela whispered, shaking her head. She was definitely not convinced.
"Right? And all those weird excuses about 'feng shui' and aesthetic privacy." Lara added, arms crossed. "It has to be her. Who else would try so hard to stop a camera?"
"Alright, my people." Manon declared, her mind made up, pulling out a small, sleek black gadget from her bag. "We're doing it. This thing is super discreet, high-def, and has night vision. I'll put it in while they're gone. We'll catch her red-handed and finally solve this mystery."
"Yeaw! About darn time!" Megan yelled out, exclaiming in that God-forbidding southern accent again to which Yoonchae just stared at her with disgust.
_____
You let out a soft yawn when you felt Sophia gently shaking your shoulder, your gaze opening, meeting those adorable doe brown eyes.
"Hey.. come on." She whispered softly at you, giddily, careful to not wake up Manon and Daniela who's on their respective beds.
You, of course, despite sleepiness tugging at you, followed your girlfriend out of the room and into the kitchen, running your fingers through your messy locks with a soft yawn before putting your hood up.
"What? Did you catch the food thief?" You murmured out, yawning once more.
"Nope. But I did caught something better." Sophia grinned mischievously at you and before you knew it, those plump, soft lips were already claiming yours.
And, well, who are you to deny it?
You let out a soft chuckle against Sophia's lips, letting her push you against the counter, your hands slipping inside her shirt, mapping every inch of skin you could feel.
She shivered at your touch, nipping at your lower lip in response. God, did she loved these moments.
Sophia let out a soft, hushed moan, a little purr that buzzed right through you as your hands gently cupped her breasts inside the thin fabric of her shirt. Her body, already molded against you, totally pressed in even closer, every curve just fitting perfectly with yours. "Fuck.."
Her own fingers started to explore you, tracing down your spine, lingering at your waist, then pulling you even tighter, squishing out any last bit of space between you two. Her lips, so full and impossibly soft, were just glued to yours, a constant, amazing presence.
"Mhm.." Your mouths danced together in this slow, sweet, but insistent rhythm, like a really good, wordless chat that just got hotter with every breath. You could taste the lingering sweetness of her strawberry lip gloss and that faint, yummy spice from her dinner earlier, a delicious mix that just made you want more.
Her tongue lapped and swirled against yours, exploring every soft, secret spot with no rush at all. It was a kiss that felt like everything you ever wanted, a mix of pure affection and just knowing you were exactly where you needed to be. Each gentle brush, each soft little suck, sent these amazing shivers through you both, sparking a slow, delicious warmth that spread through your veins, a powerful, magnetic pull that just clicked.
It was all breathless and exciting, a silent exhilarating session of happiness and belonging that made the quiet kitchen feel like the best place in the world.
Unbeknownst to you both, thoroughly lost in your own little love bubble, the tiny, almost invisible red light of the security camera tucked away in the corner of the kitchen gave a discreet, almost blink.
Yeah, you guys were royally fucked.
______
The very next day, right after practice, the living room became Mission Control. Everyone was there, except you and Sophia, who were conveniently at the company for "urgent meetings" with Missy— definitely not on a secret date somewhere, eating each other's faces, absolutely not, nope.
Phones and tablets were prepped, snacks (carefully guarded from the yet-to-be-identified culprit) were laid out the coffee table, and Yoonchae even dimmed the lights for maximum effect. They were practically vibrating with anticipation, ready to finally catch their midnight food thief red-handed.
"Is it working?" Manon asked out, fixing the connection to the T.V since Megan claimed that watching the caught footage at the laptop is mid.
No responses were heard, Lara busy with her phone, Daniela chatting animatedly with Megan while Yoonchae was making sure the snacks on the bowl weren't missing a piece yet before the tape even played , slapping every hand that was going near it.
"Y'all, is it working!?" Manon yelled, to which all of them finally payed attention to, answering in a chorus of "Yes!"
"Thank you!" She huffed, dusting her hands off while Megan snorted, side-eyeing Lara.
"Goddamn, who pissed at her drink."
"I don't know, maybe you did?"
"The fuck? Why would you eve-"
"Okay, okay, i'm starting it!" Daniela yelled out before they could even continue their conversation, pressing the play button immediately.
At first, it was just the empty kitchen, lights dim, everything quiet, the clock showing 11 PM. Everyone leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen, holding their breath.
And..
Nothing absolutely happened.
"That was anti-climatic." Daniela spoke out, breaking the silence.
"Well, no shit, we gotta fast forward." Manon deadpanned, grabbing the remote from Daniela as they all just stared at the TV screen blankly, popping snacks in their mouth every once in a while.
They stared at the empty kitchen for 15 minutes, absolutely nothing going on, no food thief nor disturbance caught.
"Damn, it's like watching the paint wall dry-"
"Wait! Shh! Look! Someone’s coming!" Megan yelled, even standing up on the sofa to see better, pointing at the screen.
There was a figure, a silhouette of someone they could recognize very well entering the camera frame. This was it. They could finally know the identity of the damned culprit. Their fallen snacks and treats would obtain justice.
"THERE! GOTCHA! Who are you—"
Everyone froze. Dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
On screen, the door can be heard opening slowly from the other hallway, and in walked into the frame was their leader, Sophia, wearing her silk pajamas, looking all cool and calm… and then you, their member, trailing behind her, rubbing your eyes looking just like you had woken up from sleep.
"Ha! It's Sophia, I knew it! It's So- Y/n..?" Megan halted her celebration, trailing off confusingly as she watches your figure following Sophia after, the camera catching both of your frames.
"There's two- Oh my god, there's no food thief, there's TWO food thieves!" Daniela concluded, eyes wide open as if she just discovered something horrendous. Yoonchae, on the other hand was looking at the screen with so much betrayal, oh, her heart, how could the both of you do that to her?
"They were scheming! Oh my fucking god!" Lara gasped out, extremely offended and betrayed, after she shared some sympathy with you having your hometown snacks getting stolen, you and Sophia were the culprits all along?
"I can't do this anymore! I can't! This- This is war-"
And before Manon could even finish her sentence, everything changed.
Sophia pulled you close by the waist instantly, one hand resting firmly on your lower back, before pushing you against the counter, her lips against yours. It wasn’t even just a quick peck. It was deep, warm, full of so much affection, her fingers tangling gently in your hair to tilt your head back just right, kissing you like you were the only person in the whole world.
Your hands slipped inside her shirt, the camera fully showing how intense and intimate your kisses were. A soft moan coming from Sophia can be audibly heard at the caught footage, the two of you lost in your own world, completely unaware that you were being recorded.
The whole living room was silent for three whole seconds. Then chaos erupted.
"NOOOOOO! THAT’S NOT REAL!!" Megan screamed at the top of her lungs, covering her eyes with both hands but immediately spreading her fingers to peek wildly anyway.
"FAKE! EDIT! CGI! GREEN SCREEN! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!"
"Turn it off! TURN IT AWF!" Daniela shrieked as she slapped Manon's thigh, the other girl also screaming as she tries to take the about to be live porno off of the TV screen.
"How do I even- oh my god, they just kept going?!" Manon, bless her heart, instead of turning off the TV, had managed to just press the fast-forward button, resulting for the screen to absolutely see everything in 2x speed.
Lara, finally having enough material to tell her therapist, bolted, pulling the TV's power cord plug off of the socket. "Oh my god, finally!"
"It's still playing at the laptop!" Megan shrieked to which Yoonchae slammed the laptop screen shut, eyes wide, face flushed and sanity barely intact.
A moment of silence overtook the whole living room before they finally processed it once more, all of them collectively going into a psychosis.
"I EAT THERE, I PUT MY FOOD THERE!" Daniela started pacing back and forth across the room, pulling at her own hair looking absolutely traumatized. "HOW COULD THEY DO THAT ON THE COUNTER?!"
"Bleach my eyes. That's my final wish. Please." Yoonchae murmured, slumping onto the couch, eyes wide, mind barely running. That image of you and Sophia practically smooching each other's faces carved into her mind. She can see it even when she closes her eyes.
Meanwhile, Manon, was laughing so hard in disbelief, she fell off the sofa, clapping her hands while wheezing, wiping tears from her eyes. "Oh my fucking god! That's why Sophia was being so weird- OH LORD!"
"I KNEW IT! I HEARD NOISES BEFORE!" Lara cackled, pointing at the now black screen of the TV, where your good ol' loving session was just played earlier. "I thought paranoia was being a bitch but no! Because apparently it's these two getting down on each other!"
"Wait! Megan! Weren’t you the one who said last week you heard weird sounds in the kitchen and ran away saying there’s ghosts?" Daniela gasped, piecing the coincidences all together as she threw herself on the nearest cushion at the couch from her revelation.
Everyone turned to Megan at that, the Hawaiian practically disassociating next to Yoonchae on the couch.
Megan, after a few moments of processing, had turned bright red from her cheeks all the way to her ears. She shook her head violently, trying to physically erase the memory now that she knew what those noises were.
"I thought the kitchen was haunted!!" She exclaimed out, standing up while gesturing with her hands animatedly. "Ugh! Oh god! And I was wondering why it sounded like someone was eating tteokbokki loudly!"
And just like that, the whole mission failed.
Throughout the whole footage, there was no sign of any food thief. No one stealing anything, just you and Sophia giving each other some good ol' smoochin' the whole night.
With that, they disposed the security camera away immediately, figuring that they absolutely don't want to see anything that would be going on in the kitchen no more.
And with that, the mystery remain unsolved.
Or has it?
______
A week had passed since the Great CCTV Fiasco. The initial shock of Sophia and your secret romance had somewhat faded, replaced by a house-wide agreement to simply not think about what happens in the kitchen after midnight. The food thief, however, remained an unsolved enigma, a ghost in the machine.. or rather, in this case, in the pantry.
It was precisely midnight, pushing past 1 AM, and the house was blanketed in the kind of deep, peaceful silence only possible when all of you were finally getting their beauty sleep. Everyone was fast asleep, that is, except for one very determined, very hungry, and very guilty party.
Megan.
She woke up again, not to an alarm, but because her stomach was grumbling so loud it probably shook the walls. Just last week, she'd put on a total show, crying over her "stolen" snacks, including her own tteokbokki cups, which had mysteriously vanished right after her big speech about anarchy. She even blamed Sophia with convincing fury, all while secretly planning her next raid on the cookie stash.
She was the food thief.
And now, tonight was her night for another of her sneaky snack run, a solo mission she'd been waiting for.
"Ugh. I’m so hungry." Megan mumbled to herself, putting on her hoodie, tiptoeing out of her shared room with Lara after making sure that the other girl was dead asleep.
"I saw Manon put new cookies yesterday, hid them in the tin can. Bingo. No one will know. Easy. Safe." She whispered, giggling to herself at how much she sounded like a Disney villain plotting the end of the world.
"I wish it's those imported ones she got from Switzerland." She stretched, already salivating at the thought before finally making her move as she quietly walked, barefooted, to the pantry.
She crept slowly towards the kitchen, holding her breath, ready to sneak in, grab the food, and sneak out before anyone woke up. She turned the doorknob slowly, pushed it open just a crack, and peeked inside.
The lights were dimmed.
The atmosphere way too charged for a place known to be getting snacks at 1 o'clock in the morning.
And there you two were again.
For the hundredth time.
You were leaning against on the exact same spot at the kitchen counter, Sophia pressed up against you, her hands roaming on your body, your arms wrapped around her waist. You two were making out again, slow and deep, Sophia tilting your head back to kiss you properly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, the other crawling on your thigh.
When you pulled away for air, she rested her forehead against yours, smiling that soft smile only you get to see.
"I love you so much." She whispered softly against lips, those familiar lip gloss of hers already yours at this point from how many times it had been smeared on your mouth.
You pressed a lingering soft kiss at those plump lips you adored, whispering an "I love you too." back, before feeding her a piece of strawberry you were holding.
It was sweet. It was wholesome. But Megan had reached her absolute limit.
She didn’t even care about the cookies anymore. She just stood there, staring at you two, then let out the loudest, most dramatic groan ever, facepalming so hard it echoed through the whole kitchen.
"REALLY?? COME ON GUYS?? AGAIN??"
She whisper-yelled so loud it was basically a shout, full of annoyance, disappointment, and pure trauma. "I came here to eat! I was so hungry! But now, I lost my appetite! Seriously?? Can't you two go anywhere else?? Why is it always the kitchen?! Huh? Do you guys have a schedule or something? Literally every single night!"
You and Sophia jumped so hard you almost fell stumbled to the floor. You immediately hid your face in Sophia's shoulder, blushing like crazy, while Sophia tried to fix her hair and act like leader mode but her ears were bright red.
“M-Megan?! What are you doing here?! It’s 1 AM!” Sophia stuttered, trying to at least save face.
"WHAT AM I DOING HERE?? I CAME TO STEAL FOOD OKAY— I MEAN I CAME TO EAT!" Megan ranted, throwing her hands in the air. "But now, I don't even want it anymore! My appetite is gone! I don't want it!"
She pointed at you two, shaking her head. "You two are so affectionately disgusting! I absolutely support the both of you but you two are still disgusting!"
Megan turned around and walked away, not even looking back, muttering to herself as she went. "I’m not even hungry anymore. Gross. Lovebirds. Using the kitchen like that. Seriously.."
And that was how Megan got away with being the food thief forever.
No one ever found out. The only thing everyone knew was that the kitchen was permanently reserved for Sophia and Y/N’s date nights, and Megan would rather starve than walk in there ever again.
______
a/n: i have so many pendings but can't absolutely forget our phia for fluff
The name’s peach, as in…mama peach. Some of y’all may know me from @bloodredpeach, the mama of seven.
Below is a very poor attempt at a comeback, dedicated to my dearest @burnttoast7272 for passing her exams.
Please excuse any mistakes, I haven’t written a fic in over three years and I’m a bit rusty. Feedback is always welcome!
Happy reading <3
PS. Some things may sound weird af, that’s because English isn’t my first language and some expressions are like…lost in translation yk? Anyways have fun :>
The first time I saw her, I thought love was a punch to the chest. I was wrong. Love is much quieter than that. Love, as I've come to learn, is much harder to hold onto and much harder to walk away from.
It was a busy day. My mind was in a rush, my hands fidgety, my eyes darting everywhere, mapping faces, furniture, energy, anything I could grasp in the physical and emotional storm I had just walked into. I got gently shoved by a shoulder. A hand touched my elbow, urging me to a certain spot. A distant voice murmured directives. At least, they sounded like murmurs to my ears.
We were clustered together. Arranged unceremoniously in no specific pattern. I remember the strange feeling of being puppeteered. I was frozen, a cold sweat breaking as I felt eyes on me, feeling trapped under a gaze that had already judged me. As someone who always picks the back of every room, just to clock everyone's positions, to feel in control, I had never been as afraid as I was at that moment.
I told myself I was cataloging threats. That's why I noted the way she stood, relaxed but aware. Why I logged the sound of her voice, low and unhurried. Why, when she glanced my way for half a second, my stomach didn't flutter. It assessed. That's what I told myself.
Although looking back now, I wonder, wouldn't someone assessing a threat hyperanalyze their threat's words?
Later, I would learn, her words were a simple introduction. A name, a city, an interest, a goal. I remember seeing her lips move, her eyes subtly scanning the room as she spoke, her voice simple vibrations in the air. Sound waves that washed away the noise of the room, momentarily leaving nothing but her velvet tone in my mind.
I never got used to the rush. It was a race. A survival game. A room where you look for a safe corner to hide in, only to realize it is a circle.
Her presence stuck in my mind, not as an interest, but as another opponent in this war. She moved like droplets of morning dew swept by a soft breeze, landing in the crevices of my soul, filling the little spaces with a mist that cools my simmering core.
I watched her deliberately. She was not a friend; she was just a girl who wanted the same prize I was fighting for. She was a wall. An obstacle. A hurdle I was mapping with my unwavering gaze. Until she smiled in my general direction, and my head snapped to the side, blinded by the brightness of her joy. Or maybe I was pretending to look away, not wanting to be labeled a scrutinizer in her book.
I wondered, why did it matter what she thought of me?
The days we had jokingly called 'survival of the fittest' taught me two things: in wartime, I can have only one of two, a friend or a foe.
At least, that’s what we were told when we joined this circus.
That blinding smile flashed behind my eyelid. A friend. I wanted her to be a friend. I wanted to be her ally, her pillar, her unshakeable wall.
But I just stood there. Watching. She laughed at something someone else said, someone who told a joke faster, stood closer, already knew her name. I watched her turn toward them, watched her choose them, watched someone build courage faster than I could. Something twisted. Not jealousy. Just the cold understanding that her time was a currency I hadn't earned.
She didn't owe me her attention. I knew that. But watching her give it away so easily was a different kind of loss, one the Ringmasters never warned me about.
Then I opened my eyes, peeled back the layers of delusion. A new war had already begun. Two fronts now. And on both, I was losing.
I had accepted the fate I never chose. But fate is a funny thing. A turbulent, messy, unpredictable thing.
I don't remember the final days of the game. I vividly remember the aftermath.
Suddenly, I had a prize secured in my bag. Suddenly, I was in the limelight I wasn't sure I deserved. Six figures and I stood in a line, bathed with colorful spotlights and showered with praise. Six figures and I, the fittest who survived, given heavy crowns and heavier expectations. It was as if a weight had been lifted, and a bigger one was offloaded on our backs.
I found myself engulfed for a minute, drowning in the scent of desperation, relief, hope, and floral perfume. Different perfumes. Each one triggered an emotion I was unaware I could feel. But one of them, the faintest one, made my chest go quiet again. Just like her voice had on that very first day.
I found her in the crowd later. She was laughing with two of the other winners, already at home in this newfound 'family'. I wanted to walk over. I wanted to say something, anything, but my feet stayed planted. The same feet that had carried me through the game refused to budge when it mattered most.
Perhaps, she felt someone watching her. She turned. She looked right at me. And smiled. Not in my general direction this time. At me. She moved. I blinked, and there she was, with her magnetic eyes and pretty smile. She opened her mouth and talked. I caught wind of words that sounded dangerously close to 'excited', 'happy', and 'famous'.
I smiled back, for the first time since she looked at me like I might steal her gold, I smiled back. I murmured an unintelligible "Congratulations. You were... hard competition. I knew you'd make it. Talent like that."
I watched her tilt her head and smile like she knew she had the power to stop the beating of my heart. I wondered then, when did she learn to take up space inside my chest without asking permission?
She breathed in, ready to respond...
And then we were surrounded. Celebrations. Cheers. Bodies pressing in. Familiar perfumes and old perfumes.
It hit me at that moment. The war wasn't over. It had just changed shape.
Since that day, life ran…different. A constant flood of adrenaline.
It’s like someone put me on a rollercoaster, without a seatbelt, and sent me on an endless ride.
There wasn’t enough time for me to dwell on what would’ve been her answer. I wonder sometimes, if my honesty was the key that opened up her eyes to my existence, or if it’s simply because we are now…coworkers, so to speak.
At least she smiled at me, right?
I’ve stood at the edge of her inner circle throughout this war. A shadow. Or a wall, depends on how you look at it.
Maybe not the wall I wanted to be.
I wanted to be her friend. I wanted to learn her.
‘But could I?’ I thought.
‘Could I stand in the face of my demons and ask her how she likes her coffee?’
‘Could I challenge our shared coworkers and snag a seat next to her?’
‘Could I offer to carry her bag when we’re getting out of a car?’
I could…But I can’t. I could because I know she is an angel. I can’t because I’m…unprepared.
If I asked her how she likes her coffee, she’d offer to go with me to grab all seven of us a couple of drinks.
If I somehow found myself sitting next to her, she’d ask me questions. Get to know me. Answer my questions. Laugh at my dry jokes.
If I offered to carry her bag, she’d refuse. She’d complain and giggle, refusing to be a burden on someone else. Even though I’d love nothing more than to carry her bag and follow her.
In my head, I sounded pathetic. Out loud, I sounded crazy.
But was I crazy when all I wished for was her companionship?
Funny enough, it was much more difficult to avoid my wishful thinking when she was sitting right in front of me 24/7.
I used to see her in shared spaces. In competitive rounds. In eliminations. Sometimes on our mutual acquaintances’ ‘close friends’ stories.
But after the final round, after she became an integrated part of my life, I saw her everywhere. I could not escape her.
She was everywhere.
On my mind.
On my phone.
At interviews and studio recordings and practice sessions.
At wardrobe fittings, where I admit I had my very own biased opinions about her appearances. Opinions that I would never dare say aloud. Opinions that perhaps the stylists would disagree with, but I was not to be trusted when she was involved.
A true war I was fighting. A battle that I couldn’t win no matter how strong my army was.
My army being my will. And my will…was very, very weak.
I was not to be blamed. Ask anyone she had ever smiled at.
I realized that after that fateful day, the day the tides turned, the day everything I’ve known since the beginning of this war flipped upside down, I found myself lost.
Lost in my own rule book. Lost in my maze of connections. Lost between my heart and my mind. Between what I wanted, and what I could do.
She consumed me. My mind a hurricane of thoughts. Every single one was about her.
Until she’s there. Sitting next to me. Breathing the same air. That giggle echoing in my empty head.
She shut them down. All thoughts of her, she just…turns them off.
I didn’t know how to handle that fact. I’ve never had anyone have such a paradoxical effect on me. The same thing that runs through my mind can easily make it freeze.
And it’s embarrassing, really. I was supposed to be more phlegmatic, serene. Speak when spoken to, answer only the question asked, not more, not less. Smile and wave. Do your job. Perform to a T. Earn your place. Day in, day out.
But then she asked me if the color of her shirt clashed with her eyeshadow and I froze, I froze, like some undignified idiot who forgot how to speak.
I remember thinking ‘fuck, you speak three languages, literally say anything! Hell just nod!’
It took me two whole minutes. A hundred and twenty seconds. Just to end up saying "uhhh no?"
UHHH NO? WHO THE FUCK SAYS THAT!
I do. I did. When my pretty friend asked for my opinion.
I recalled being labeled ‘The Useless Gay™’ once upon a time. Before all this glitz and glam.
But you know what? I'd do it again. The freeze. The 'uhhh no.' The dumbassery. All of it. Just to have her ask me anything at all. Just to have her laugh. At me. With me. Who cares? She’s laughing. She’s laughing and my heart is trying to leave my ribs. Probably to sit between her palms.
Huh.
I’ve never been this attached to a friend. Perhaps I’ve been lonely for too long. Or maybe she’s the perfect friend for me.
The one thing I pride myself in is my ability to mentally compartmentalize.
My life is split into cardboard boxes, each one labeled with a thick, black sharpie.
There’s one for my family. One for my closest friends. One for my high school friends. One for my exes. One for my cat. One for my job, my band mates, my fans etcetera etcetera.
And one more for…her. With an extra ‘FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE’ sticker on all four sides of the box.
Why?
Well…I’m not sure.
The contents of that box in particular are very delicate. In there is where I store anything that includes her or reminds me of her.
I mean, there’s a cute little beige puppy plushie in the box. Don’t know where that came from.
And like…a pink hoodie, from that time I learned how to make her favorite pasta when everything was too much. ‘A quick fix,’ she called it.
And um…the black hair tie I gave her when her hair was getting in the way in practice.
Oh, and the bracelet she wore in one of our shows, where we debuted a new song, and I had to twirl her. By the waist. Boy was that move a disaster to learn.
At least we nailed it in that show.
And every show after.
There’s also a readymade brownie packet. A new foreign brand we sampled while we were on tour. Just her and me. In my hotel room. On my bed. Eating brownies and talking.
She was kind enough not to leave crumbs where I sleep.
The most recent addition is a giggle. The weirdest giggle I’ve ever heard her do.
We were all hanging out after a recording session, snacking on instant noodles. I had a little avocado keychain sitting in my pocket, an impulse buy from a random souvenir shop.
Somewhere in the chaos of thirteen different conversations being carried on at once, a feat only seven girls can achieve, I caught her eye.
She was sitting to my left. Looking all perfect and flawless. Like nothing can touch her. I smiled awkwardly, my fork hanging from my fingers as I immediately glanced back to the nearest conversation for cover.
The cover fails, because she never looked away. Three heartbeats later, and I was looking at her again. I could never resist her. God she was so perfect. Those thirteen conversations all…muted. They didn’t matter when she looked at me. Nothing ever did.
I remembered the avocado and dug in my pocket to find it, getting a mini heart attack when my fingers found nothing but air.
Finally, I grabbed it with shaky fingers and…as usual…grinned awkwardly at her. I extended my hand forward, and she put her palm up. I dropped it in her hand. She stared at it.
A beat. Then two.
Then she giggled. My God, she giggled. Loudly. Head thrown back, fork dropped, a snort somewhere in there. So boisterous that the girls stopped to stare at her, a few confused smiles and giggles joining in.
Until she held up the avocado next to her face, and everyone burst out laughing.
My grin went from awkward to victorious.
It took her a solid few seconds to catch her breath. A great loss if you ask me, but then again, I am heavily biased.
“Girl is that…me?” She said breathlessly, stroking the avocado’s curls. Because yes, I saw an avocado with curly hair and my immediate thought was ‘yes! Perfect gift! That’s how you impress a girl! Buy her an inanimate fruit that looks like her! What a loser!’
But I nodded anyway. Then stopped. Then muttered, “I mean, unless you have a brown pit that can roll.” While twirling a noodle on my own fork.
And somehow that made the same giggle return, with an extra nose crunch and a dimple. The others laughed and teased me, but I heard absolutely nothing. I was busy internally celebrating.
I made her giggle.
HA. Take THAT.
My relationship with my bandmates is…complicated.
I’ve come to learn them. Their likes, dislikes, routines, certain tells, you know, things you learn when you live with someone for too long.
I also learned their coffee orders. Photographic memory, they said.
They just like being spoiled with free drinks.
I don’t mind, really. The six of them have carved their ways into all four chambers of my heart, each settling in a corner. Perhaps one took up a little more space than the others, but that’s because she had the advantage of being there first.
I was getting ready to leave for my hunt when I heard a tumble behind me. I turned around to find a pair of the most breathtaking eyes I had ever had the privilege to look at. The owner of said eyes was standing in front of me, smiling and slightly panting.
“So…where are we going?”
Excuse me? WE?
Cue signature freeze.
I really do live up to my title ‘The Useless Gay™’.
Will I ever win this war?
Unfortunately for me, it would be impolite not to respond. I had to use my words. Oh no.
“Um…I…we?…are going for a coffee run.” Yes. Full sentence. Thank the lord.
“Okay!” She smiled, all teeth and dimples.
Okay??? What now?
I guess we’re going then.
“Um…yeah.” I nodded with finality and opened the door, stepping aside for her to walk through first because I wasn’t raised an animal.
The coffee shop was a ten-minute walk and had almost no wait time at all. It’s one of those hidden gems you randomly find.
And hey, I liked their decor. Very minimalist with just enough potted plants to look alive.
We walked in silence. It wasn’t awkward per se, but it also wasn’t a hundred percent comfortable.
Not because I was uncomfortable around her. In fact, I learned that being in her mere presence dimmed the overwhelming noise and brightened the shadows in the dark corners of my mind.
But because I felt the need to impress her. Say something smart. Talk about something interesting. Or just form a full sentence without stuttering for once.
Alas, all my poor brain could do was execute the following actions:
A- gently place your hand on her shoulder to move her to the inner part of the sidewalk.
B- match her steps perfectly, not too fast, we are not superior. Not too slow, we are not lazy.
C- do not stare. Do not stare. Do not stare.
I was too busy executing my three-step survival plan that I almost missed it.
“Can I ask you a question?” She hummed.
Well I am fucked. Anyways.
“Uh yeah.”
“And you promise to be honest? Like completely? I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…I was just…thinking.” She spoke so nonchalantly, I almost missed the nervous tone. Or maybe it’s the wind.
I nodded because I couldn’t trust my vocal cords.
She continued, “So I’ve been thinking…well actually I just wanna know your thoughts on something…”
Honestly? I respect this woman’s ability to stand my awkwardness.
I nodded again, an attempt at encouragement and deflection simultaneously.
She hesitated, I sweated, then she broke, “Do you think I’m…trying too much? With my face and all?”
Oh my god, oh my god, I’m so glad she can’t read minds because the mental sigh of relief I let out at that moment was so LOUD.
Then I processed her words. “What?” I spat out. I was honestly confused. What the hell was she talking about?
“I meant that…” she sighed, “the…the fans and everyone. They think I’m too…expressive with my face. Like, I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve been seeing online.”
D- Please. Please do not embarrass yourself.
“That is bullshit.” I started.
Oh no.
“Who says that kind of crap. What does that even mean?” I felt hot in all the wrong places. I went on a tangent, getting a bit worked up.
“Why would you even consider the possibility that their opinion is true? It’s just an opinion…it’s not a fact! And- and who the hell are these people to have that opinion, huh? Show me their faces, let’s see if it’s even half as attractive as yours! How abominable! How revolting! I can’t even…”
I pursed my lips, swallowing my words. I peeked at her to see her looking at me with an unreadable expression. Her lips parted. Eyes wide, scanning my face. I looked forward and “…oh. We’re here.”
Mama loves me.
I hurriedly opened the door and let her in first, trying to direct her attention somewhere else. She blinked twice, stepping into the calm atmosphere of the coffee shop. I followed after her, the smell of ground coffee hitting the right spot in my brain.
The lady behind the counter greeted me, probably too familiar with my existence at this point. She was nice, and her coffee was immaculate, never a wrong order, so you best bet I will greet her back with enthusiasm.
The lady took my usual order of seven drinks with the focus of an operator working a high-stakes hacking mission. I paid because mama raised a gentlewoman.
As we waited for the kind lady to do her magic, I quickly scanned the sweets on display and found something. I eyed the beauty to my left and weighed my options.
“Um, Dani…would you like a pastry? I won’t tell anyone…it’ll be our little secret.” I stammered a poor attempt at being charming.
She raised her pinky. “Promise?”
Oh.
I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that Thai food yesterday. That was definitely the Thai food. No more Thai for me.
I stared at her pinky. Then at mine. Then back at hers.
This was fine. This was normal. Friends pinky-promised all the time.
I hooked my pinky around hers. Her skin was warm.
"Promise," I whispered. Then immediately regretted it because my voice came out all wrong. Soft. Like I meant it. Like this moment meant something.
She grinned. "Good. I want the chocolate one."
For some reason, that coffee run was a turning point. Ever since then, she’s been everywhere. More than she already was. Occupying space- thoughts she had no right to. Stealing my oversized hoodies, which she basically swims in because I’m already a size or two over her. Tall people's problems. Makes shopping impossible.
She hops on the kitchen counter when I’m cooking something, expecting a spoon to be presented to her so she can taste-test my creations.
She leans against me during breaks between running routines. I find myself fetching two water bottles instead of one, no longer worried about overstepping with the gesture.
She teaches me Spanish words, then laughs at my poor pronunciation.
She naps on my shoulder whenever she gets the chance, in car rides, on planes, buses, waiting rooms, dressing rooms, literally any chance she gets. She says my shoulder is the perfect height for her to lean on without straining her neck, which is bullshit since I have at least three inches on her, and I have to slide down my chair a bit for her to reach. But I'll never tell her that. Who am I to complain anyway?
She taught me her hair care routine, simply because it made her feel adored. Now, every once in a while, she plops down on my bed with a couple of fat tubs and bottles, silently demanding I pamper her. So I scrunch the night away, shaping her curls like there's no tomorrow. It's a privilege. Her words, not mine.
She sneaks into my room when she’s supposed to be asleep, just to talk about dumb things. Pointless conversations. Existential crisis. The future of us. Her past, before the fame, before life on the fast lane.
The topic never interests me. At least, not as much as hearing her talk. I still stammer around her; that’s an everlasting curse, but I mostly listen and offer feedback when asked.
I find myself addicted to those memories. Meticulously storing them in that mental cardboard box. Occasionally revisiting them. Just to remind myself that little old me made it. I became one of her best friends. A thought that always shakes me to my core yet keeps me grounded.
I am absolutely, irrevocably, a useless gay.
It doesn't matter how hard I try to hide it. I will always be that. For as long as those ethereal hazel eyes remain branded onto the back of my eyelids. I also realized that reality will soon catch up with me.
Too soon if you ask me.
It happens on a random Tuesday. We’re in the back of a cramped van, somewhere on a highway between two city stops. The rest of the girls are knocked out in a tangle of limbs and travel pillows around us. The highway streetlights flash through the tinted windows every three seconds, painting her face in alternating streaks of gold and shadow.
She is currently asleep with her head tucked in my neck and her legs thrown over my lap. Her fingers tightly gripping my arm like she's trying to pin me there, leaving it entirely numb. Ha, as if I'd even think of moving. I'd have to lose that arm first.
My mind is screaming under the pressure of having her wound tightly around me, analyzing the exact angle of her head, the rhythm of her breathing, the sheer danger of this level of proximity.
Yet, my chest is completely quiet. Her scent quieted my thoughts, leaving me in an unmatched state of zen.
This is the part no one warned me about when I made the decision to dance for a living. You can win the game, you can secure the prize, you can build the perfect unshakeable wall to keep everyone out…and then you willingly leave the front gate wide open because she asked you to style her hair.
Silly me, I thought I was being subtle. I found out the hard way that I'm not the only one who thinks I'm becoming soft.
Out of the blue, a sharp, high-pitched buzz cuts through the quiet hum of the tires.
To my right, a silhouette stirs. A phone screen lights up, casting a stark, bluish glow over a groggy face. It’s Sophia. She blinks against the glare, her thumb scrolling lazily for a few seconds before she lets out a quiet sigh and lets her head drop back against the headrest.
She turns her head toward me, her eyes adjusting to the dimness.
"Still awake?" she whispers, her voice raspy from sleep.
"Yeah," I breathe back, barely moving my jaw so I don’t disturb the weight on my lap. "Can't sleep."
"Tsk, poor thing," Sophia murmurs, shifting her legs to avoid tangling with someone else’s travel pillow. "You're still buzzing, huh?" I nod once, humming in agreement. "It’s like the adrenaline from the show never actually leaves your blood."
"Yeah, that happens sometimes." Sophia shifts closer, leaning her elbow on the armrest between our rows, looking out the front windshield at the empty highway ahead. "It’s weird, isn't it? Feels like just yesterday I was sleeping in a trainee dorm, panicking about getting cut. Now we're jumping cities in a van, and our faces are on billboards in the middle of the city we just left."
"Mhm…still feels unreal," I whisper, looking down for a brief second with a small smirk.
As I do, the van hits a slight bump on the road. The cool air from the overhead vent drafts downward, and Dani stirs minutely against my thigh, a tiny crease forming between her eyebrows. Her fingers tighten a fraction more around the fabric of my sweater.
Without thinking, my free hand reaches down. I grab the edge of the kuromi-printed throw blanket I got her and gently pull it up, tucking it snugly around her shoulders, blocking out the draft. I linger for half a second, ensuring the fabric covers her arms properly, before resting my hand back on the seat.
When I look back up, Sophia isn't looking at the highway anymore.
She’s looking at me.
The blue glow of her phone is gone, but the passing streetlights catch the slow, knowing curve of her lips.
"You know," Sophia hums, her voice dropping an octave lower, practically a whisper, "for someone who looks like they want to punch a wall every time I look at you, you’re surprisingly domestic."
My internal alarms go off all at once. Code Red. I repeat, code red. This is not a drill.
"Ehem. Uhm. She was shivering," I say, my voice flat, aiming - and failing miserably - for that serene, phlegmatic tone I’m supposed to possess. "Hypothermia lowers performance levels. I’m protecting our brand."
Sophia lets out a muffled, silent laugh, burying her face in her hand for a split second so she doesn't wake the others. When she looks back, her eyes are sparkling with pure mischief.
"Right. The brand. Of course," she whispers, prodding my shoulder lightly with her finger. "Is that why you let her steal your favorite hoodies, too? Because of the thermostat in the practice rooms?"
Crap. CrapCrapCrapCrap-
"The hoodies are oversized. They provide warmth. Optimal temperatures for a main dancer."
"Uh-huh." Sophia leans back, her grin widening. "And the fact that you always slide a good four inches down your seat just so her neck wouldn't get strained? Is that a team strategy, too, Captain?"
I stare straight ahead, my jaw locked, refusing to break under interrogation. Fuuuuuck. She noticed the chair thing.
"I was adjusting my posture," I mutter. "For my lower back."
"You're a terrible liar," Sophia whispers, her tone turning softer, losing the sharp edge of the tease but keeping all of the warmth. She looks down at Dani, who has completely settled again, her face soft and relaxed in her sleep. "But it's sweet. Really. The way you know just what she needs. It’s nice seeing the unshakeable wall actually take care of someone."
My heart does a weird, heavy thud against my ribs. I look down at the pretty Latina snoozing away in my lap, then back to Sophia.
"We're just best friends," I say.
It's not the first time I've spoken those words out loud. In fact, I usually revel in them, but for some reason, the words feel heavy this time. Like a weight settled on my shoulders.
Sophia just stares at me for a long moment, the amusement in her eyes shifting into something a little more perceptive, a little more knowing. She reaches over, taps my knee gently, and settles back in her seat.
"Whatever you say," she murmurs, closing her eyes and resting her head against the window. "Just don't let your arm fall off before the morning rehearsal."
The van rolls on into the dark, leaving me alone with the quiet, the numbness in my arm, and the sudden, terrifying realization that…I'm not as slick as I thought I was.
That conversation with Sophia looped in my head for hours. I haven't slept a wink. Any hopes of catching a single Z flew out the window. The cogs turning in my head, over and over.
If Sophia noticed, what if the girls did too?
What if Daniela did?
Oh no. Oh no no no no. If Dani noticed…
No. I don't think she suspects anything. She would've said something, right? Or thrown a hint here or there.
But she doesn't. I need to make sure she doesn't.
Ok, new plan. Operation: Absolute Professionalism.
Phase 1- Stop acting like a human mattress.
Phase 2- Keep a mandatory two-foot radius of personal space.
Phase 3- Treat her exactly like I treat the other five. No special water bottles. No extra attention. Strictly business.
It was a foolproof plan. A masterpiece.
Except I forgot to consider the fact that I, a fully grown adult with free will, refused to move an inch, just so a pretty girl could sleep peacefully on me. By the time we reached our destination, my left arm was so profoundly dead that it felt like a heavy, useless piece of overcooked pasta hanging from my shoulder. I sacrificed an arm and my sleep for her. Just…Daniela Avanzini.
When Dani finally blinked open those hazel eyes, stretching her arms above her head with a soft, sleepy yawn that should honestly be classified as a weapon of mass destruction, I couldn't even help her up. I just sat there, my face frozen in a grimace of pure agony, staring straight ahead as the rest of the girls groggily grabbed their bags.
Sophia stood up, throwing me a look of such immense, unadulterated amusement as she moved to descend the van that I wanted to launch my travel pillow at her head.
"Morning, Captain," Sophia chimed breezily, her eyes dropping to my limp arm. "Nice posture."
"Shut up," I grunted, trying to nudge Dani off my lap with my working right limb without looking like a total jerk.
Dani blinked up at me, her curls a wild, beautiful mess around her face, entirely oblivious to the sirens currently bouncing around my skull. "Are you okay? Your face is red."
"Fine! Perfectly fine! Ready to perform to a T!" I stammered, scrambling out of the seat the second Daniela moved out of the way, actively executing Phase 2. Two feet of space. Mandatory.
I didn't carry her bag. I didn't hold the hotel elevator door for her. I stood in the corner of the lift, staring at the digital floor numbers like they held the secrets to the universe, ignoring the slight, confused pout she threw in my direction.
See? I told myself. Slick. You are a vault. An unshakeable wall.
A couple of hours of restless sleep later, we were standing under the brutal, unforgiving fluorescent lights of the rehearsal studio.
Our track was blasting through the massive speakers, the music vibrating through the floorboards. We were running choreos for some of our old and new releases, a series of high-energy routines where every movement had to be sharp, synchronized, and aggressive.
This was my element. When I’m dancing, the hurricane in my mind usually shuts off. I don't have to think about eyes, or smiles, or the way someone looks in an oversized pink hoodie. I just have to execute.
Until we reached THAT song. The one with the twirl.
After the formation shifts, I'm supposed to step forward, catch Dani by the waist, and twirl her into the center line.
Phase 3, my brain screamed as she spun toward me. Strictly business. Just a bandmate. Don't fuck it up.
I stepped in. My hand went to her hip- but instead of the firm, supportive grip I usually gave her, the one that kept her perfectly balanced every single time, I kept my palm completely flat, barely brushing the fabric of her crop top, trying desperately to minimize contact.
It was a disaster.
Without my usual leverage, her center of gravity wavered. Her foot caught on the edge of her sneaker, and she stumbled, her shoulder colliding heavily into my chest as the music continued to blast through the giant speaker.
"Cut! Cut!" the director yelled over the microphone, the music cutting out into an echoing silence. "Girls, what was that? Your timing was off. Let's fix the grip on the transition. Again!"
The other girls took a collective breath, stepping back into their starting positions. But Dani didn't move.
She stayed right in front of me, panting slightly from the cardio, her hazel eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my entire plan completely crash. The soft, sleepy girl from the van was gone; this was the main dancer. The girl who fought through the same war I did.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice low enough that only I could hear it over the murmurs in the back.
"Adjusting my grip," I muttered, looking anywhere but her face. "Trying a lighter touch for more fluid motion."
"Bullshit," Dani whispered, stepping closer, completely obliterating my mandatory two-foot radius. "You didn't even grab me. You're acting like I'm covered in spikes. Did I do something?"
Breathe. Please breathe. Please do not collapse right now.
"No," I said, my voice cracking slightly before I forced it back into a flat line. "You're fine. We're fine. Just… focusing on the performance."
Dani tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she scanned my face, looking for the tell she always seemed to find. Then, her expression softened, a tiny dimple peeking out on her left cheek.
"Okay," she mumbled, "just try not to break my legs while you're being creative."
I freeze, eyes wide at her words. Is she crazy? I'll get fired! If they fire me, I'll never see her again!
"Sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry," I break, unable to stay stoic when she looks at me like that. "I'm- I'll fix it."
"Right," she huffed. She reached out, her fingers brushing against my wrist for a split second before she turned back to the formation line. "Grab my waist properly next time, cabrona. I don't like falling."
I stood there, my army completely defeated, my rule book set on fire. My brain stuck in statics. Cabrona.
Sophia caught my eye from across the room, raising her eyebrows with a look that said: What the hell is wrong with you?
I don't know woman. I don't know. Just end me right here.
The music started again. Dani was already in position, her back to me, waiting.
I stepped forward. This time, I didn't think. I just grabbed her. Firm, steady, the way she needed.
She didn't stumble. She spun perfectly, her hair fanning out, and when she landed, she glanced back at me. Just for a second.
Her lips moved. No sound. I just nodded dumbly, unable to hear anything over the sound of blood rushing to my ears.
A break was called soon after. Sophia magically appeared at my elbow. "You're staring."
"I'm not."
"Liar." Manon threw over her shoulder as she passed by. I gape at her, turning to Sophia to see if she heard Manon too, or if I was imagining it.
Sophia was smirking at me. "Don't look at me like that."
I roll my eyes, not having the energy to argue.
So…Manon knows too.
I gulp, the room feeling stuffy, suffocating me. I spin around and leave Sophia in the dust. I walk towards the elevator, my hand reaching for the panel when a 'hey!' sounds from behind. I spin and find…
Fucking hell, woman. Daniela Andrea Avanzini Lorente. I swear to-
"Hey Dani," I plaster a smile on my face, one that turns into a real smile when hers stretches wide, teeth and sunshine and all. Pathetic. If my mama saw me, she'd whack me for being so weak.
"Coffee run?" She asks as I press the arrow down. I mumble a small, "No. Just going for a walk. Fresh air and all."
She looks away for a second, then asks, "Do you mind if I join?"
Eeeeeehhhhhhh say no, I dare you.
The elevator dings and the doors open. I hold it for her to step in first, quickly schooling my face when I realized I just gave her 'please marry me' eyes. So much for a foolproof plan.
We walk in silence, basking in the afternoon breeze. I didn't realize so much time had passed in the studio. I'm so deep in my thoughts, recalling the day when something soft lingers against the back of my hand. I look down and find the back of her right hand grazing against mine. I peeked at her face to find her staring straight ahead, looking unbothered.
Should I do it? What happens if I do? Will she hate me? Will she think I'm weird? Or worse, will she think this is completely platonic and not care?
I want to hold her hand. I want it so bad. But we're just friends. Best friends. I'm not even her type. It's not like I'm the only one she's close to, too. She hugs all the girls like that.
'It's not like I'm the only one who wants to hold her hand', I think bitterly.
I feel something crawl up my chest. Like my stomach blew up and burned my insides. Fuck.
Dani's hand brushed mine again. This time, I didn't look down. I just… let it happen. Let my pinky drift, just a fraction, toward hers.
She didn't pull away.
My heart stopped. Then restarted at twice the speed.
"You're quiet," Dani said, still not looking at me.
"Thinking," I managed.
"About what?"
About how your skin feels against mine. About how much I want you. About whether you'd scream or laugh or cry if I told you the truth. About how I'm going to survive the next five minutes without doing something stupid.
"Choreography," I lied.
I feel her slow to a stop.
I stop a single step after, because my body apparently responds to her before my brain can process.
She turned to face me, her head tilted, those hazel eyes searching my face in that way that always made me feel like she could see straight through every wall I'd ever built.
"Don't lie to me," she said. Not mean. Just…sad. Offended. A small, soft smile played at the corner of her lips. "Do you think I'm that clueless?"
My heart dropped to my ass. What. The. Fuck. I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. Nothing came out.
She stepped closer. The two-foot radius was dead. Murdered. Gone.
Her scent invades my senses. She smells like heaven, if heaven smelled like her perfume and body spray, and a bit of clean sweat from the intense six-hour dancing session we just did.
"Is it really so hard," she asked quietly, "to just tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"
Yes. It's impossible. Because if I tell you, everything changes. Or nothing changes, and that would be worse.
"I don't know what you mean," I finally whispered.
Dani's hand found mine. Not brushing this time, but fully holding it. Her perfectly manicured fingers laced through mine like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Liar," she said. But her voice was warm. Her thumb traced a small circle on the back of my hand.
Why is everyone calling me a liar today?
"You don't have to say it," she added, so quiet I almost missed it. "Not yet. But… don't hide from me. Okay? I hate it when you hide."
I stared at our intertwined fingers. At how perfectly they fit. Oh, if only.
"Okay," I breathed.
She smiled, that real, crinkly-eyed smile that picked me apart and put me back together, and squeezed my hand once before letting go.
"Good. Now get me a snack, I'm hungry and tired of your brooding."
And just like that, she started walking again, leaving me frozen on the sidewalk, my hand still tingling, my chest a mess of terror and hope.
We got back from our snack run to find everyone waiting for us. It was weirdly funny, watching their eyes follow us all the way from the door to our spots.
The rest of the practice is a test of my endurance. Every time I look at her, she looks back. Every move she makes, I stare, hypnotized by the way she moves. Even the furrow of her brows is perfection. I mentally thank her mother for gifting us with a miracle, smiling at my ridiculous thoughts.
One chance. Just one chance.
After the session ends, Sophia pulls me aside. "You sneaky bitch, what did you guys do?"
I flick her forehead, drawing out a "Nothing" to hide my grin. She eyes me and opens her mouth to rip me a new one, before a giggly "Liar" sounds from our left. I jump at Megan's jab, thankful my eyes can't set her on fire with how hard I glare.
"Not you too…" I run my hand down my face, exasperated at how fucking exposed I felt. "What is wrong with you people today? Is it 'bully the giant' day today?"
The two chuckle, side-eyeing each other while I drown in my misery.
"Nooo…you're just extra…you, today," Megan admits, like it's a top secret she's been trying so hard to keep.
I bristle, "Excuse me?"
Megan grins, undeterred. "You know what I mean. You're all smiley. Did something happen on your walk?"
My face? Hot. Flaming. On fire. Call 911. "No."
Sophia snorts. "She flicked me and then smiled about it. She's so lying."
"I smiled because I flicked you," I say. "It was satisfying."
"Mmhm." Sophia crosses her arms. "And the staring? Was that satisfying too?"
I freeze. "What staring? I'm not staring." I chuckle nervously, attempting to deflect.
Manon's hand snakes around my torso in a side hug, "Aw, come on, you were eyeing her like she's your salvation." The two nod in agreement.
FUCK. This is next-level embarrassing. "You saw that?"
"We all saw that," Megan says cheerfully.
I need to move to a different planet.
Before I can start planning a new identity, a familiar voice cuts through my spiral.
"What's so funny?"
I whip around. Dani is standing there, water bottle in hand, head tilted, looking between the four of us with curious eyes. Her gaze lingers on me for a second longer than the rest.
My soul leaves my body.
"Nothing!" I say. Too fast. Too loud.
Sophia saves me…sort of. "We were just teasing the Captain about her dance face. Very intense today. Very… focused."
Manon nods, her arm still around me. "Yeah. She's been staring at the mirror like it owes her money."
I could kiss them. I could also strangle them. The line is blurry.
Dani's eyes flick to me. A small smile plays on her lips. "Oh yeah? Focused on what?"
My brain blanks. "Choreography," I manage. "Just…counting the steps. In my head."
"Mmhm." Dani takes a sip of her water, not breaking eye contact. "You should probably watch your feet, then. You almost tripped over the speaker cable twice."
Megan snorts. Sophia buries her face in her hand. I feel my entire face ignite.
"That was on purpose…" I grumble, almost pouting. Almost.
Dani's smile widens. "Sure." She turns to the others. "Anyway, I'm heading out. You coming?" She glances back at me.
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out.
"She'll meet you there," Sophia says, shoving me forward. "She just needs to grab her bag."
Dani nods, already walking toward the door. "Don't take too long."
And then she's gone.
I round on Sophia. "What the hell Soph-"
"You're welcome." She grins. "Now go. Before she changes her mind."
My feet are already moving.
I'm so, so screwed.
Months later, we're back in LA. The tour is over. So many billboards with our faces on them, which still makes me do a double-take every time I drive past one.
You'd think the chaos would have settled by now. It hasn't. If anything, life has gotten louder. More interviews, more photo shoots, more talk show appearances where I have to pretend I'm not constantly aware of exactly where Dani is standing and how out-of-this-world she looks.
But there are quiet moments, too. Moments I store in my mental cardboard box, the one dedicated to her, the one that only ever seems to grow, bigger than any other box. I store the ones between the noise. Late nights in the studio when everyone else has gone home. Early mornings at the dorm when the sun is barely up and she's still in her pajamas, hair a mess, squinting at her phone.
That's where I notice it.
She's texting someone. A lot.
More than usual.
At first, I don't think anything of it. Dani has friends. Family. A whole life outside of Katseye. But then I catch the smile. The small, private one she gets when her phone buzzes and her eyes flick to the screen.
It's not the same smile she gives me, or any of our bandmates. This one is softer. Quieter. Like a secret she's keeping from the world.
I tell myself I'm imagining things.
Then I see a name. A name that circles around TikTok and gossip accounts. A name that I see on her phone- accidentally, of course, because I'm not that kind of person.
Jonah.
My stomach drops. My heart clenches. My throat closes. My eyes burn.
I get restless, fidgety, snappy. I become somewhat of an asshole, and I'm not proud of it. I hate it. I hate the clipped answers I give her. I hate not being near her, or holding her hand, or carrying her bag, or making her laugh with my dry humor.
She's sitting across from me on the couch, scrolling through her messages, and I'm pretending to watch a show while my eyes keep drifting to her screen like a traitor.
Jonah. Jonah. Jonah.
Her phone keeps pinging with a new text.
She grins. Types back. Laughs under her breath.
I feel something hot crawl up my chest. The same thing I felt that day on the sidewalk when I thought about someone else holding her hand. The same thing I feel every time someone gets too close to her.
Jealousy. Actual, ugly, irrational jealousy.
Fuck.
I don't even know what she likes. We've never talked about it. I've never asked, because asking would mean admitting why I want to know, and I'm not ready for that conversation. I'd rather swim in a pool of jellyfish than ask her that question.
But if I had to guess, based on the way she's smiling at her phone right now, I'd say Jonah is more than a friend.
And I'm just… here.
A best friend. A bandmate. A useless gay who can't even hold eye contact without combusting.
I should give up. I should accept that I missed my chance, assuming I ever had one. I should focus on the music, on the job, on literally anything else.
But I can't.
Because every time she laughs at something Jonah said, I want to be the one making her laugh. Every time she types back too fast, I want to be the reason her thumbs can't keep up.
So I do the only thing I can.
I try harder.
Nothing dramatic. Nothing embarrassing. Just… small things.
I bring her coffee before she asks, and if I'm feeling extra, I have it waiting for her every morning.
I offer to drive her around to her destinations, calling her my passenger princess, which, kudos to me, makes her blush and giggle. I pretend it's on my way. It's almost always not. I add twenty minutes to my commute and don't say a word.
I start leaving little notes on her mirror. Dumb things.
You're gonna kill it today.
Don't forget to hydrate.
Your hair looks nice.
That new lipstick is doing things. (That one I almost didn't leave. I left it anyway.)
She smiles at the notes. Tucks them into the edge of her mirror like they're keepsakes.
I ambush her more often, offering to do her hair routine and adding an extra massage here and there.
I take her on what could pass as a date or an outing. A lunch, a nail appointment, a shopping spree, a brunch with friends.
Once, I got her flowers. When she asked why, I said, "Just because."
It took me a long time, but I started to initiate touch instead of just receiving it from her.
The girls noticed, of course. They grilled me about it. A wink here, a jab there. But under all the teasing, I feel the support. They're silently rooting for me.
Lara corners me in the kitchen, urging me to confess, or at least make it clearer.
"I know it's hard. I know you're scared. But if you don't make a move now, you're gonna lose your chance. She won't be available forever, you know?"
I swallow thickly, tears brimming in my eyes, "I know that, Lara. But what if she's…not into me? I don't want to lose what we already have."
Lara grabs my shoulders, trying to physically shake some sense into me, "You're not gonna know unless you ask! Or at least try! But don't fumble just because you're worried. You love her, right?" I nod.
I admit it. I love her. I’m in love with her. "I love her, Lara." My voice cracks, a tear escaping, no matter how hard I tried.
"Then go get her." The finality in her tone is the sledgehammer to the last wall.
I know I can't keep hiding forever. And I know that every time she looks at me, my heart flutters the way it always has. I know she'll always have a hold on me. Always. Even if I lose her to him.
But I don't want to live like that. I don't want to know what it's like. I want her. In my life, and every life I'll ever live.
So I start planning. Quietly. Awkwardly. Pathetically.
Because the alternative is doing nothing, and I've done nothing for too long.
I'm not about to just sit there and watch someone take her away from me.
