In your recent posts, your fans notice your... interesting interactions with Hamzah. You couldn't be just friends, right?
friends to ???
Requested
Hamzah always seems to gravitate towards you if you're around, looking in your direction and turning his body to face you.
He likes to have soft/slight physical contact with you! The most apparent one is playing with the ends of your hair and your feet touching.
He speaks softer with you, and is a lot less monotone. I imagine he squints a lot around you, because he studies you to see if there's anything different with you.
Througout your public interactions, there's a vibe it hinting towards a more romantic relationship. It doesn't help that your friends feed into it, and you don't deny it.
It shouldn't be a surprise when fans start to notice things!
────୨ৎ────
When you post a video of having a sleepover with your friends, it makes it more obvious something is happening between the two of you.
In a clip, fans pointed out as the group were taking turns playing Just Dance, you and Hamzah were in the back chatting with one another. In the Chaos of yelling, heaving breathing and California Gurls playing loudly from your T.V; it was like you were in your own world.
There's a thump, and it gets quiet.
C: Don't piss me off. Claire just fucking tripped me!
Clr: Did not! You literally bumped into me!
The video cuts in the middle of the argument.
They also notice how Hamzah becomes your shadow, and it always leads to fights with one of your cats; Spoon.
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You guys were playing uno, and your cat Spoon in your lap. Seeming annoyed by Hamzah's hand on your knee, she hisses and starts batting his arm.
Theres a chorus of 'Hey!' 'No!' and 'Bad girl!'
You hold her in your arms, looking offended.
Y: Don't be mean to her! You know she doesn't like sharing....
H: She's mean! I can't sit next to you without her having an issue! Nobody is safe when shes around!
Your jaw drops and you hold her closer to your chest, covering her ears.
Y: She can't help it! Spoon is a Mommy's girl.
Trying to prove his point Hamzah places his hand on your thigh. Spoon flips out, and ends up scratching his arm.
The clip cuts, and Mandy and Martin are behind the Camera, recording through the crack of your bathroom door.
The viewers can't see much, but they can hear the conversation inside.
Y: You're so stupid sometimes Hamzah!
You're scolding the man as you clean his injury, and he just laughs.
H: I was just trying to show how crazy Spoon is 😒
Y: She's just a little territorial! You don't need to make yourself a scratching post to piss her off.
H: She's a dictator! We all have to be careful because Spoon is always watching! Even Fork is scared of her....
Y: Okay Fork is scared of almost anything...
H: You get my point....
Martin faces the camera to his and Mandy's face, and he's smirking.
M: you guys hear that? Baby's first argument 🥹 they grow up so fast..
Mdy: Martin, stop shipping them. We've talked about this.
M: Ugh! Really Mandy? This is a sleepover! Have you never been to one before? Girls are always talking about who's gonna be their boyfriend and other stuff.
As Martin went on a tangent, the door opens, revealing a confused you and Hamzah, and the clip cuts.
────୨ৎ────
If he can, Hamzah will offer to help you! He wants to be the one you can rely on.
Hes always asking questions, and looking after you silently.
That means holding his hand over corners you could bump into, tying your shoes, keeping hairbands on his wrist, and having a note on his phone to remember stuff that you like.
────୨ৎ────
You're making cookies for a horror movie you're going to watch. You don't trust your friends baking abilities enough for them to help, so you're doing it by yourself as they set the living room up to sleep and watch the movie.
You are in the process of whipping the butter and sugar together, and you feel a familiar presence behind you. Curls tickle your ear, and you turn your face to look at the person behind you.
Y: Are you gonna watch me make cookies this entire time?
H: Basically, yeah.
He pops a couple of chocolate chips in his mouth and leans against the counter.
You slowly goad Hamzah into helping you make cookies, and you're standing hip to hip; giggling about whatever as you scoop the dough onto a baking tray.
Claire is behind the camera this time, and she zooms into your faces.
Clr: Not him trying to act nonchalant 😭
Chase laughs and joins in.
C: Couple goals tbh.
Clr: I'm lowkey getting fomo now...
C: Should we make out or something?
Clr: ....
C: We have to one-up them!
────୨ৎ────
As it gets late into the night, you all start to settle as you get sleepy.
None of y'all want to be the first one to fall asleep, fearing what the other's may do.
Unfortunately for him, Chase was the one to do so.
Of course, the logical reason was to draw on his face!
An hour passed, and Hamzah fell victim to sleep, and the same thing happened to him.
M: This is so fun! I feel like I'm apart of the girls ☺️
Clr: Forreal! Girls rule and boys drool!
The video jumps to Martin asleep, and the girls holding in their giggles as they slowly drew on his face.
As Mandy was drawing glasses on his face, he opened his eyes.
M: What the fuck? Mandy, why?!
Dramatically, he gets up and runs to the bathroom, waking up the other guys.
The girls follow after Martin, you holding the camera. Martin is standing in front of the mirror and wiping his face vigorously.
M: Seriously? What happened to girl code???!!! It was supposed to be us against them!
────୨ৎ────
You feel so safe and comfortable around Hamzah, and you often get sleepy around him!
It was a reocurring thing; so much so there were a few compilations about it.
It's not a shocker when the group finally gets ready to sleep, you're the first one out.
────୨ৎ────
Everyone is asleep, execpt Chase. He holds the camera, showing everyone asleep on the floor.
He pauses on you and Hamzah, the both of you cuddling.
C: Cute..
He's softly talking about the sleeping formation is similar to the puppy pile, and he pauses.
C: You see this right? *points at you and hamzah cuddling*
C: What the hell is this? *pans the camera over, and shows Martin snuggled into Hamzah's back.*
The video ends, and your outro plays.
────୨ৎ────
EXTRA:
yourusername: when the plan makes it out of the groupchat 🥶🔥 new video on yt out btw
user1: did she soft launch hamzah????? Why did she include all that footage...
thatkidmartin: if me and my gang pull up you better get to running 😈
mandys_iphone: next time girls only!
clairedrakee: i needed this 🥹 my goofy laugh moment ❤️
user2: the way hamzah and y/n pic was the only not group photo... and it was the last one... 🤔
user3: hell naw ynhamzah soft launch 💔💔💔💔
chase_rutherford: my head itches really bad after i left... u shld get checked...
user4: so is y/n single or not??? just vote ik im gonna be out 💔😭😭
hamzahthefantastic: so. freaking. chaotic. 🤣
This was fun!!! i felt myself burning out writing and posting everyday so im probably gonna post thrice a week 😭😭 and yes the cats r named spoon and fork i thought it would be funny 😛 i cannot write headcannons for the life of me because i always turn it into a fic bruh 🤦♂️ okay derry OUT!
what do you use for the fake youtube pics 😭😭😭 im trying to make my own fics but im struggling
hi so actually I'm insane and i change the title of a private video i posted some time ago and get the likes, views from other popular videos that have the amounts I'm interested in that are on YouTube then connect everything together in gimp on my pc. idk if there's a more efficient/easier way to do it but yeahh same with the comments - i comment stuff on my private video then hide the account name and stuff...
and for the Minecraft post i might or might not have literally made a new creative world and built the stuff myself as well as faked my inventory for the crafting screenshot as well 😭😭 yeah if you find something that's more effective do tell me because I'm dedicating a lot of time to fake these screens people probably look at for like 10 seconds most
Y/n:
“Hello gamers, what’s up. Today we’re starting a brand new survival world, and yes, I did in fact drag three people into this mess with me. Two of them know what they’re doing. One of them... is Mandy.”
Cut to Minecraft title screen, then loading into the world.
Martin (VC):
“New world smell. Don’t ruin it yet.”
Hamzah:
“Too late. Mandy just punched a bee.”
Mandy (deadpan):
“Do you punch with right click? Or—sorry. Left click? Ow. How do I stop it from attacking me?”
Everyone in a meadow near a forest.
Hamzah:
“Alright bois and girlbosses, we speedrun wood.”
Martin:
“Someone get tools, someone get food. Mandy, go... um. Look around.”
Mandy:
“Can I collect these plants? What if I made a flower garden? Or can you do crops?”
Y/n (laughing):
“Literally building Stardew Valley while we starve. Yeah, Mandy if you punch the grassiest grass, you might get wheat seeds. Get a bunch—I’ll make you a hoe and show you how to grow stuff.”
Mandy:
“Why doesn’t this make a chair.”
Hamzah:
“Bro get the hella outta here with that IKEA crafting.”
Cuts to a janky birch shed.
Martin:
“Guys it’s getting dark—”
Y/n:
“We have a house! Kind of.”
Hamzah:
“This is a rectangle…”
Y/n:
“Wow, so picky. At least you have a roof and a warm bed. Be grateful—there are children in active warzones right now.”
Martin:
“Why are the beds all snuggled up like that? Is this a double date?”
Y/n (laughing):
“It’s a team-building exercise.”
(Hamzah’s character immediately picks the bed next to hers.)
Martin:
“Oh my god. Is it because you’re lovers?”
Hamzah (without missing a beat):
“No. And quick PSA: just because someone roasts you on vacation doesn’t mean they love you. Probably.”
(Beat. Y/n silently places a torch over his head.)
Y/n:
“Okay anyway—food tomorrow or we die. Mandy, I’m gonna teach you how to garden and fish.”
Mandy:
“I don’t like these sounds… growling. Wait—is this a creeper? Is that like what’s on one of Y/n’s hoodies?”
(Zombie groan. Explosion. Cut to death screen.)
Y/n:
“Okay well. RIP Mandy.”
Mandy:
“That was a jumpscare. You didn’t tell me this game had jumpscares.”
Martin:
“You walked up to a creeper and said ‘what’s that lil green guy.’”
Cave: mining, armor, etc.
Hamzah:
“Me and Martin are gonna explore this cave like men.”
Martin:
“Let the record show I did not agree to this phrasing.”
Y/n and Mandy build up top. Mandy places torches at odd angles
Y/n:
“Mandy, you placed torches like we’re summoning Herobrine.”
Mandy:
“Maybe I am. He seems nice.”
Hamzah finding diamonds and instantly getting humbled by lava.
Hamzah (after yelling, high pitched):
“Gamer moment. Near-death experience. I got humbled.
Y/n trying to tame a wolf, wasting 15 bones and having it run away
Y/n:
“Alright. Running away after getting so much bone. Guess this one was a bitch…”
Martin falls in a hole:
Martin:
“God I hate gravity.”
Hamzah:
“That’s not gravity, that’s just being dumb.”
After having found a village, Y/n puts a villager in a boat
Y/n:
“This is Kurtis, our mayor. Do not touch him.”
Mandy:
“I fed him wheat. He didn’t say thank you.”
Ending
Y/n:
“Alright gamers, we survived our first Minecraft day. Mostly. Sorry Mandy.”
Mandy:
“Sorry me??”
Martin:
“Next episode we’re either building a proper maximalist base or dying in a cave. Place your bets.”
Y/n (to camera):
“If you liked this gameplay, thought it was like… Gnarly? Like and subscribe. Comment your favorite professional boxing star and tell Mandy she’s doing amazing. If you don’t believe that—don’t lie. But if you do, let her know. She is amazing. Let’s get some Mandy love in the comments.”
Mandy smiling shyly at the camera. Cut to outro music—slowed down replay of her trying to craft a chair.
"hello guys. welcome to the fricking... vlog. we are going on summer vacation with my beautiful girlfriend Mandy. And i guess also Hamzah is here and Y/n is also here. welcome." (applause sound effect)
Hamzah filming a sleepy Y/n in her plane seat.
"little miss vacation, obviously asleep" camera turns to face him, uncomfortably close up before she takes it from him. "obviously guys you can see who's the real influencer here and it's me. it's me and Martin. the girls are just... embarrassing, truly. Mandy's reading a book already and Y/n is fighting sleep, not gamerlike. I know girls have it different and... different hormones, i guess they turn on airplane mode like you do in your phon-"
the clip gets cut off, interrupted by a video of the view through the airplane window and a laughter sound effect.
A quiet drive to the destination, Y/n recording, showing everyone except her (and the uber driver) asleep, the camera points to Hamzah before back to her. "who's sleeping like an embarrassing little hoe now? not much gamerlike" she whispers.
A different part of the car ride, showing Hamzah and Martin entertaining a conversation with the uber driver in the most abstract way possible.
“So what’s the best beach out here?” Martin asked, leaning forward like he was on a travel show.
"All of them" the driver shrugged "just not the touristy ones. those are.... how you say- hella lame." he laughed.
From the back, Hamzah snorted. “Boi, not hella lame.”
Martin grinned. “You heard the man. We want the local experience. Point us to the least Instagrammed coastline.”
The driver smiled in the mirror. “You people are funny.”
“We get that a lot,” Hamzah deadpanned. “But only in France.”
Y/n turned her head to the window, trying not to laugh as Martin launched into a story about the time he “accidentally” got locked out of a hostel in Lisbon. By the time they pulled up to the Airbnb, the driver was offering them a discount for “being so unserious.”
Martin showing off the Airbnb once they arrived
"MTV Cribs: but if we were broke and we were in the foreign vacation edition" He said with a dumb smirk as Y/n followed him with a camera, asking questions.
"What's your favorite french dish?"
"I'm gonna have to say... mug" he smirked, referencing Demi Lovato.
during the tour suddenly hamzah could be heard yelling:
“Boi what the hell?—y’all gotta come see this.”
Everyone rushes in expecting a bug or a broken AC, but instead they find him standing in front of a massive canvas painting of a goat wearing sunglasses and a striped shirt, posed like it’s the Mona Lisa.
He points dramatically. “Why he lowkey look like Martin tho.”
Martin walks in, squints at it, then nods. “Damn. That goat got my side profile.”
Hamzah starts filming it up close like it’s a documentary. “This right here is Goatmar. Protector of the house. Protector of the vibes.'
"hey, but check this out because I'm a goat. this means I'm the goat, that i'm the greatest of all time" he smirked and tilted his head sideways with an eyebrow raise.
going evening grocery shopping with Martin getting distracted and wanting to buy a fugly amongus themed shirt, Y/n and Hamzah fighting over what drinks to get and Mandy being the responsible adult person, actually making sure they get the stuff they need.
A montage of the first day at the beach and everyone struggling with sunscreen. Mandy reading a book and tanning, Hamzah trying to catch her off guard and throw Y/n in the water. mixed with shots recorded by martin of himself buying drinks for everyone.
Y/n on her sunbed complaining about getting life-changing sunburn, covering herself with a towel and threatening to never go on vacation like this ever again.
early evening on the Airbnb's balcony. crickets acting as white noise for hamzah's secret recording of y/n he's taking sneakily with his phone. she's on her chair, eyes closed and tank top straps off her shoulders as she hits her weed pen.
"caught in 4k" Hamzah teased
"I'm vibing, let me live" she responded without even looking at him.
"that's what they all say... right before they start talking to trees" he zoomed in on her face. she lifted a lazy middle finger to the camera "ohhh helll nahhh.... girl. see guys?" he turned the camera to face him. "that's family friendly youtubers for you. friendly for the family when there making money off it. but well? not really. really great, Y/n. what's next? swearing?" her snicker could be heard.
Martin joins them through the sliding door, proudly holding up a portable Bluetooth speaker. "guys, you'll never believe where it was"
"where was it?" Mandy asked "MarTin i swear, if you say the fridg-"
"it was in the fridge! i forgot i put it there."
"why did you put a speaker in the fridge?" Hamzah asked
"to cool it off, that's how it works, right? cause it was hot from the sun. tell me that's not how it works" he sat down next to Mandy. "why wouldn't it work like that?"
Hamzah panned the camera from Martin to the setting sun before back to Y/n who just took another hit of her pen.
"ayy, she do be vibin tho."
A dinner, Hamzah and Martin Insisted on making "the real gigi hadidi pasta". they laugh around while vlogging the whole thing on Y/n's camera.
A late night barefoot walk on the beach, taking cute photos, having a deeper conversation, waves crashing and adding a soft ambiance. Y/n walks behind to record them candidly, quickly shut down by Hamzah noticing her staying at the end, a glimmer of worry in his eye before he realizes she's recording and yells at her to "stop acting emo" which they both laugh off.
Y/n sneakily recording Hamzah and Martin doing a tiktok dance together, incredibly locked in despite it being the fifth try already.
Mandy opening an online blind box, crashing out when she gets an incredibly ugly one she didn't want.
A montage of everyone packing, including Hamzah throwing Y/n's bikini at her in the background of one clip.
Mandy and Y/n giving sincere vacation recap thoughts while getting ready together
A clip of them getting a group selfie taken by a stranger who didn't speak English and laughing every next sentence off.
the outro
"Alright, that's it. that's the vlog. see you next week orr- month, or year-" Y/n said, cut off by Hamzah pushing his head against hers to fit in the frame.
"And don't forget to leave a like and subscription and comment- comment if you think Slushy Noobz is the better channel or comment if you think Yourusername is, but hey. i think we already know what the answer's gonna be."
a glitched out freeze frame of Martin sneezing ending the video off.
just posted some stuff wow it's very raw but I'll polish it up a little once I post first part but i need to feel pressure to motivate myself to finish writing part one
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: After being ghosted for a month Y/n finds herself entertaining the conversation with the last client at closing time on a Friday. A client who just happens to be Hamzah.
1 / 2
Working the closing shift on a Friday night wasn’t exactly anyone’s idea of fun—and it sure as hell wasn’t Y/n's.
The sun had long dipped past the skyline, and the door hadn’t chimed in a while. Most people were probably out getting drinks or curled up at home by now. She’d be doing the same soon enough.
Some chill music played low over the store speakers, helping her mind drift to somewhere quieter.
Hopefully not to her ex.
It didn’t, though. Not this time. Her thoughts slid toward dinner instead—maybe a salad, one of those half-hearted ones she’d make once a month to feel good about her eating habits. There were still some bell peppers in the fridge. Maybe even feta cheese. Expired, probably. But still.
Thoughts of her last relationship visited less often now, anyway. She’d never admit it, but she was actually glad Olivia had dragged her to that house party. That porch conversation with Hamzah had reminded her of something she'd forgotten she could feel. That light, floaty warmth in her chest—she’d chalked it up as something that died quietly in her teens. But there it was. Back again. Even if he never ended up calling or texting her, she was weirdly okay with it.
There was comfort in the fact that someone had cared enough to ask for her number. Maybe it just made her feel a little less like a lost cause.
She was somewhere between mentally counting bell peppers and debating the risk of expired feta when she felt it—
someone watching her.
Her gaze shot toward the door.
The bell hadn’t rung. She checked the clock. Then she saw him.
There.
Leaning against the counter. Watching her.
Hamzah.
His curls were longer than they’d been a month ago, and he wore a black jacket over a t-shirt with a cat on it. He looked… relaxed. A little more confident than she’d thought he could even pull off. There was a new ease in the way he stood there, waiting. Calm, patient, almost smug.
And she—
She stared for a beat too long, blinking like she had to reboot.
Not just because she hadn’t expected anyone to walk in this late.
But because the last person she expected was him.
“Wait—did you sneak in? I didn’t even hear the bell.”
Hamzah gave a small shrug, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Maybe it likes me better.”
She let out a quiet laugh and leaned her hands on the counter. “Or maybe you’re just quiet as hell for someone who ghosts people.”
That made him smile wider—small, crooked, guilty-but-not-really. He tilted his head.
“I didn’t ghost you,” he said. “Ghosting implies I had any intention of vanishing.”
“Oh, so you just… didn’t text because it was a long, thoughtful silence?”
“Exactly,” he said, tapping the counter once. “A meditative pause. Very profound.”
She raised a brow. “That’s the best you’ve got?”
Hamzah laughed under his breath. “No, but it was the most honest way to lie.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped back, fighting the upward pull of her mouth. “You’re lucky I’m on the clock.”
“I came after hours,” he said. “Figured I’d increase my odds.”
Her look softened a little, despite herself. “Of what?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her for a moment—really looked. Like he was studying her face for changes, or maybe just letting himself look a little longer this time.
“Conversation,” he said finally. “Maybe whatever came after that, too.”
She giggled. “And what could that be?” she switched her weight to the other leg, leaning on her hip.
Hamzah shrugged, unbothered. “Moral support. Expert opinion. Maybe even forgiveness.”
“For what?” she asked, a little more amused than she wanted to admit.
He gave her a look—tilted head, slight smirk. “For ghosting you.”
She scoffed. “Oh, so you are admitting it.”
“I was gonna say my parents grounded me and took my phone, but figured that only works when you’re sixteen.”
“Yeah, no one’s buying that,” she said, grinning.
“I figured. Thought maybe showing up in person might earn me a couple points.”
“You’re lucky you remembered where I work. And that I didn’t switch career paths.”
“I could’ve always just asked Olivia.”
“Well? Did you?”
“Nah, boooriiing.”
She tilted her head at him, amused. “Wait, so you went into this blind, just hoping I’d be in?”
“Helen Keller, baby.” He grinned, shameless.
She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s not even—God. You’re an idiot.”
“But a hopeful idiot,” he pointed out. “Which has to count for something.”
I like to see everything in neon
Drink lime green, stay up 'til dawn...
The next song started playing overhead.
“Track four?” Hamzah asked, gesturing casually toward the speakers.
“Huh?” She looked up, brows knitting.
“It’s off the album you recommended, isn’t it?”
Her expression shifted—surprise giving way to something warmer. “Norman Fucking Rockwell.”
He nodded. “No skips, right?”
She gave him a slow, teasing smile. “What, trying to impress me now?”
“Nah, you said it’s no skips and when a lady speaks – I listen” he smirked playfully, making her laugh softly again.
“You remembered.”
“I tend to remember the important stuff.”
She looked at the clock again. “Are you buying anything or do I close up the register?”
Hamzah glanced at the empty store, then back at her. “What if I said I came for something that’s not on the shelves?”
She raised a brow, unimpressed. “That sounds like a line.”
“Well, is it working?”
“Not this one, nah. Not really.”
He winced, hands up in surrender. “Alright, tough crowd.”
She smirked and moved toward the register. “Gotta keep you humble somehow.”
He leaned against the counter, watching her with a faint smile. “You always this hard to impress?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Depends on who’s trying.”
That earned him a real grin—soft, just a little crooked.
“I could help you close up,” he offered, suddenly less performative. “If you want.”
She hesitated, then nodded once, slow. “Sure. You know how to lock up a record store?”
“No clue,” he said, already slipping off his jacket. “But I’m a fast learner.”
She handed him the keys and gestured toward the light switches behind the counter. “Alright, prodigy. Lights first, then gate.”
He moved behind the counter without hesitation. “You trust me with this?”
“Not even a little,” she said, and shook her head with a soft chuckle.
They moved around the shop in sync, almost without thinking. She flipped the “OPEN” sign to “CLOSED” while he dimmed the front lights. She started zipping up record crates while he double-checked that the back door was bolted. There was a kind of rhythm to it—a quiet, shared task that didn’t need much talking. Just motion. Just nearness.
At one point, she caught him restacking a display she’d already straightened. “You’re being weirdly helpful.”
“I’ve got range,” he said. “Also, I’m trying to keep my ‘don’t get her fired’ streak alive.”
She smiled, almost despite herself.
“I could probably get fired for this,” she said a moment later, quieter.
He glanced over at her. “Then I’ll keep it between us.”
She looked at him, half a second longer than she meant to. “You always this chill?”
“Not really.” He paused, then added, “Just with you, I guess.”
She didn’t respond to that right away. Just kept organizing. Kept breathing.
After a few more minutes, the store was quiet and locked down. She leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely.
“So you really didn’t text me because your parents took your phone?” she asked, voice light but eyes watching him carefully.
He chuckled, low. “I wish I had a cooler excuse. But nah. I was just... overthinking it. And then too much time passed and it got weird.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that.”
“Still,” he said, moving a little closer, “I should’ve called.”
“Well,” she said, almost smiling, “you’re here now.”
“I am.”
A beat.
She tilted her head. “What were you hoping to find, showing up like this?”
He met her eyes. “You.”
Simple. Honest.
For a second, she didn’t say anything. Then she turned to the final light switch by the door. “Well, you found me.”
He stepped beside her, their shoulders almost brushing. “Lucky me.”
As she reached out to flick off the lights, his hand hovered near hers. Not quite touching. Just close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. When she hesitated, he didn’t move.
And when her fingers finally did brush his—light, barely there—he didn’t pull away.
Not right away.
Instead, he turned his palm up, just a little, enough for her hand to fall into place if she wanted it to.
She didn’t take it.
But she didn’t move away either.
They stood like that for a breath or two—close enough to feel the tension loosen, like an inhale finally let go.
“I was starting to think I made you up,” she said, voice barely above the city hush.
Hamzah huffed a laugh, low and surprised. “Same.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it had edges, sure, but it held something honest between them.
“Guess we’re both real, then,” she added, glancing up at him.
They stepped outside into the night. The street was calm in the way only late-night neighborhoods could be—lit by scattered shop signs and the soft hum of lamps glowing in the windows above. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked once and went quiet. A car rumbled past, its headlights briefly casting long shadows along the sidewalk.
She leaned back against the brick wall of the shop and pulled her water bottle from her bag. After taking a sip, she held it out toward him.
Hamzah raised an eyebrow but took it anyway. “Wow. Sharing water bottles? Big trust.”
She smirked. “Don’t make it weird.”
He handed it back. “Too late.”
They fell into a light silence—comfortably so. The kind that let the moment breathe a little.
Hamzah rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets. “So… was that technically your first criminal offense?”
She gave him a sidelong glance, pretending to consider. “If I get fired for this, you owe me a job.”
“I’ll write your reference letter personally,” he offered. “Make up a bunch of fake skills. Tell ‘em you’re proficient in, like, forklift operation.”
“Finally, a chance to live out my warehouse fantasy.”
He chuckled, then let the sound trail off naturally.
For a while, neither of them said anything. The stillness between them wasn’t awkward—it just felt like a pause between chapters.
Eventually, she spoke. “You really didn’t have to come back.”
“I know.”
“But you did.”
He looked at her then—really looked. “Yeah.”
The word landed softly, but it carried weight. Like he wasn’t just agreeing, but answering a question she hadn’t asked out loud.
She didn’t push for more. Didn’t need to.
Instead, she nudged his arm with her elbow. “Still not forgiven for ghosting me, though.”
He smiled at that. “I figured. But like I said, was hoping showing up in person would earn me some points.”
She considered it, eyes narrowing slightly. “Mm. Maybe half a point.”
“I’ll take it.”
Comfortable silence hung around for the next few seconds before she spoke.
“What’s the plan next time—carrier pigeon? Smoke signals?”
He smiled, but didn’t answer right away. Just watched the condensation bead on the bottle in his hand. “I thought about it, you know. Texting.”
“And yet,” she said, arching a brow.
Hamzah looked over at her. “I didn’t want to show up in your phone like some… random guy who vanished and remembered you outta boredom.”
She blinked. That wasn’t what she expected.
He went on, voice a little steadier now. “You felt… real, that night. Like not just the party, or the timing, or even the conversation. You were just—there. And I didn’t wanna mess with that.”
She looked at him, quiet now.
“So I figured I’d wait until it made sense,” he finished. “And then I realized maybe I was just scared.”
A beat.
“You know,” she said softly, “for a guy who ghosted me, you’re real good at saying the right thing.”
He gave her a half-smile. “Maybe I remembered the important stuff.”
Her gaze flicked down, then up. “Like what?”
“Like you love Lana,” he said.
She burst out laughing. “You wanna know a secret?”
He knitted his brows in amusement “What’s up?”
“I don’t even… listen to her” her laugh faded naturally. “just something that popped into my head that day.”
He blinked, clearly surprised. “Wait, seriously?”
She nodded, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at her lips. “I just said it 'cause it sounded... poetic or whatever. Felt like the kind of thing a cooler version of me would say.”
Hamzah tilted his head, eyes narrowing playfully. “So you were lying to impress me?”
“More like... lying to convince myself I was someone worth talking to.”
That quiet landed between them—weighty, but not uncomfortable.
Hamzah looked at her for a long moment, then nudged her shoulder gently with his. “Well, joke’s on you. I listened to the whole album. Twice.”
She laughed, but it was softer this time. “And?”
“Not bad,” he said. “Kinda dramatic. Kinda dreamy. Kinda like you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Wow. Corny.”
“Accurate,” he countered.
A few cars passed in the distance. The night stretched quiet again.
Then she said, “I’ve felt like I’ve been blending into the background for a while. That night on the porch... it was the first time in months someone looked at me and didn’t just see, like, a placeholder.”
He didn’t say anything right away. Just let it settle.
Then: “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been there.”
Her eyes flicked to him, remembering that exact phrase—“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been there.”—and how it had struck something deep that night.
“You meant it,” she said.
Hamzah looked at her, steady. “Still do.”
And this time, when their fingers brushed again, it wasn’t by accident.
She didn’t pull away.
Neither did he.
“Y’know Sing?” she asked and looked up at his face. Properly looked.
“The animated movie with the animals’ singing competition?” he asked.
She nodded. “Bingo. You know Buster Moon? the Koala? you know his line? ‘When you’ve hit rock bottom, there’s only one way to go, and that’s up.’”
Hamzah let out a quiet laugh—fond, not mocking. “Man really said that with his whole chest in a glittery theater coat.”
“He meant it, though.” she nodded her head with a serious expression.
“Nah, he did,” Hamzah agreed, a little more softly now. “Lowkey corny, but kinda profound.”
She smiled, brushing her thumb over the edge of her water bottle. “Maybe I needed to hear it again.”
“Maybe I did too.” He paused, then glanced at her. “It’s been a weird couple months.”
“Yeah.”
Silence lingered between them, not heavy but full. Streetlights buzzed faintly overhead.
He nudged her hand with his. “So… up from here?”
She nodded once. “Up from here.”
a/n: ayyy, series done. also check out the playlist i made for it, link in the title here.
hope y'all don't mind it being this open of an ending lmao i fw it and I'm the one who writes
“The Three-Meeting theory” is genuinely so good and very different ur suck a good writer
thank you so much this means a lot to me ❤️ also this message reads just like if i tried to compliment myself and wrote it anonymously, made me giggle a little ❤️😭 lovelovelove u
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Trying to clear her head after a breakup by going to a friend's party leads to an unexpected reunion.
1 / 3
Y/n fixed her hair in the mirror. Her throat tightened and her face warmed the second her eyes met her reflection. She couldn’t believe it. Just two weeks ago, she’d been lying in her boyfriend’s arms, rewatching School of Rock and sipping hot cocoa. And now she was trying not to fall apart thinking about how all of that was just a memory.
How could she put on the same lipstick he used to love kissing off the second she finished her makeup? How could she fix her breasts in the dress he always complimented? And how dare she fix the hair he used to play with while holding her when she felt sad?
Deep down, she knew this was coming. They hadn’t been getting along half as well as they used to. She didn’t even feel bad anymore when he cancelled dates. She barely noticed when the compliments stopped. She knew the spark had faded, but with everything else on her mind, she never had the space to seriously think about it. So when the breakup finally happened, it hit like a dam breaking.
She knew it wasn’t the end of the world. But it was a door closing — a door she’d walked through every day for the past year. Even if the love was gone, it was still hard to figure out how to live in the absence of a chapter that long.
Her friend Olivia convinced her to come to a house party. They didn’t have many mutual friends, which meant Y/n wouldn’t have to explain anything or be babied the whole night. It was supposed to be a night of alcohol, conversation, and new faces — enough distraction to help her forget. And it had been, right up until the song she first kissed him to started playing. Olivia skipped it the second she saw Y/n’s face fall, but the damage was done.
After unkindly rummaging through the bathroom cabinets without asking, she found some deodorant and hairspray. She freshened up, took a few deep breaths, washed her hands with cold water, and fanned her face until she felt steady enough to leave the bathroom.
She headed straight for a drink — gripping the margarita made by some guy she couldn’t remember the name of like it was going to vanish. It was gone in a blink, earning a small chuckle from the self-appointed bartender who topped her off again without a trace of judgment.
She smoothed out her dress with her hands, half-listening to the kitchen conversation. Something about the NBA playoffs. She tried to follow along when familiar names came up, but eventually settled for nodding and offering the occasional quiet “right.”
A few more drinks in, she actually started to enjoy herself. She ended up in the office room with Olivia and a few others. A girl named Mandy, sweet and warm, was talking about her job as a vet and some questions Olivia had about her old pets.
Something about Mandy stuck with Y/n. She was so naturally kind that just being near her felt comforting. She spoke like she already knew what you needed to hear.
When the music from the living room got too loud, the girls decided to move to another room — but not before making a quick kitchen stop for snacks.
“There you are!” a guy said as soon as they entered. Tall, skinny, short hair — vaguely familiar. “I thought I’d lost you by now,” he said to Mandy, playfully.
“Well, you didn’t have to worry. I was just in the office — we were talking,” she replied.
“Oh, okay. Was it fun?”
“Yeah. I met this girl, Y/n. She’s really nice,” she said, gesturing.
He looked at Y/n, visibly searching his memory. “Wait, have we met before?”
“I was just wondering the same thing. What was it… Matt? Mike? Mason?” she said, crunching on pretzels.
“Martin. Close. See? We must’ve met.”
“Or maybe you just have strong ‘M’ vibes,” she joked before she could stop herself. Corny, she thought. Cringe, even — if she wasn’t buzzed.
“Or maybe you’re like, a really good witch. What’s up?”
“Nah, you’re probably right. We must’ve met before. You know Liv?”
“Olivia? Yeah, she’s Mandy’s friend. We’ve met a couple of times. What about you?”
“We’re close. That what brought you here?”
“Yeah, came for a good time, to chill. You?”
“Same. Been a tough week, needed to unwind.”
Martin squinted. “God, sorry — I can’t stop thinking about it. Where do I know you from? Are you like… on social media or something?”
“Not really, no. Sorry.”
“Work? Where do you work?”
“Oh! Sonic Boom — the record store,” she said. And then it clicked. “Wait — you’re the YouTuber guy, right? With your friend? Hamzah?”
“Dude, yes! That’s it! And yeah, Hamzah. How’d you remember?”
“I don’t know,” she smiled. “Not a common name, is it? You guys were cool. Made my day that day. Is the video up yet?”
“What are the odds!” Mandy said.
“Right? That’s what I said!” Martin grinned. “Yeah, it’s up. Did pretty well — like 900k views now. You should check it out.”
“Holy shit, that’s so many!” Y/n laughed.
“Right? And Hamzah’s here too! He’s gonna freak when he sees you.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, her interest piqued.
“Pretty sure he’s playing Secret Hitler in the living room.”
“bet I’ll see him around,” she nodded.
Later, after the music shifted from upbeat to mellow, Y/n found herself out on the porch with a handful of people smoking and chatting in blankets.
Then a familiar face stepped out. This time, she knew exactly who it was — and he looked even better than she remembered.
“Hamzah,” she called, her voice softer than expected.
He turned. Their eyes met, and he smiled. “Record store girl.”
She grinned. “Guilty.”
“Martin said you were here. He was like, ‘Bro, remember that girl from Sonic Boom?’”
She laughed. “He really said that?”
“Swear on my life. Then he tried to describe you like I didn’t remember.”
“I guess I’m just unforgettable.”
He raised a brow. “You say that like it’s a joke.”
She let out a soft laugh and looked away.
“Been blending into the background lately, I guess.”
His expression shifted—just a little, but enough. “Yeah. I’ve been there.”
She moved slightly aside, away from the crowd. He followed without needing to be asked.
“You come out here for air or just avoiding Secret Hitler?” she asked.
“Both. I was losing and sulking. Thought I’d switch environments before I threw something.”
She laughed. “Good call. Martin hyped that game like it was a religion.”
“Martin hypes everything like it’s a religion.”
They paused. It wasn’t awkward — just aware.
“You here with him?” she asked.
“Kind of. He dragged me out, said I needed to leave the house before I turned into furniture.”
She smiled. “You didn’t want to come?”
“I didn’t not want to. Just had a long-ass week, that’s all.”
“Same,” she said. “Olivia practically bribed me with tequila and girl talk.”
“Hey, solid pitch.” he blinked slowly and raised his eyebrows with a smile.
“Right?” She shrugged. “I needed something. It’s been… a lot lately.”
“Yeah?” he asked gently.
She hesitated. Then nodded. “Breakup.”
“Damn. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Not fresh-fresh, but like… still echoing, you know?”
“Yeah,” he said. And she could tell he meant it. “The space they leave takes longer to clean up than the leaving itself.”
She looked at him. That was exactly it.
“That’s a good way to put it,” she said. “I might steal that.”
“Go ahead. I probably stole it from someone else.”
She tucked her hands into her jacket sleeves, gripping the cuffs.
“You ever get that thing where you feel fine all day, and then someone says something kind or looks at you a certain way, and suddenly you're back in it?”
“Absolutely. It’s like your body remembers before your brain does.”
“Exactly,” she said. “I had a drink, heard a stupid song, saw a couple kissing in the hallway. Boom. Instant collapse.”
“You held it together, though.”
“Barely. I did raid the bathroom for deodorant like a gremlin.”
“That’s resourceful.”
“Thanks. I’ll add it to my résumé.”
He chuckled, looking at her a little longer.
“You know,” he said, “you’re really easy to talk to.”
She raised a brow. “Is that your version of flirting?”
“Depends. Is it working?”
“Maybe a little,” she said, smirking. “But I’m not sure if I should let it.”
His smile softened. “Fair. I don’t want to push. I just… like talking to you.”
“I like talking to you too,” she admitted. “That’s kind of the problem.”
“So… we let it be what it is. Just a good conversation on a cold porch.”
“Yeah,” she said. “That sounds right.”
Silence again. But a good one.
After a moment, he looked toward the door. “Want to head back in?”
She looked at her empty cup, then up at the sky.
“I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.”
“Cool. I’ll save you some chips. And maybe the last word in Secret Hitler.”
“Do me proud.”
He gave her a knowing nod before slipping back inside.
She watched him go, her chest just a little lighter than before.
She was rinsing her cup in the kitchen when she heard him come in.
“I was wondering if you ghosted,” Hamzah said lightly.
She looked over her shoulder. He was leaning in the doorway, jacket on, keys in hand.
“I was just… regrouping,” she said. “Had a moment.”
“Yeah. You seemed a little off at the end there.”
She half-laughed. “I think the tequila caught up with the breakup.”
His smile faded slightly, but didn’t disappear. “That’s fair.”
They stood in silence. The fridge hummed softly.
“I liked talking to you tonight,” he said. “Didn’t expect to. You were kind of a surprise.”
She smiled. “Yeah. Same. You’re not what I expected either.”
“Oh?”
“I thought you’d be louder. Like Martin,” she said with a teasing look.
Hamzah chuckled. “Nah. I let him do the shouting. I do the editing.”
Pause.
“I hope it helped, by the way,” he added. “Even just a little.”
“It did,” she said.
He looked at her for a second, then handed her his phone.
“If you ever want to talk again. Or, like… argue about music or something dumb.”
She took it, typed in her number.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“Night, Y/n,” he said as he backed out.
“Night, Hamzah.”
Her heart still hurt, but it didn’t feel untouchable anymore. Just… sore, in a way that might get better.
She looked down at her dress and straightened it one last time, then sighed.
a/n: part two, i hope you enjoy it. please give feedback if you have any.
also in the last part there were some "natalie" slips i guess? sorry about that, it's easier for me to write a name and change it to y/n usually, i suppose i didn't notice some instances of its use in part one. Won't happen again.
The Three-Meeting Theory suggests that meaningful connections follow a temporal pattern based on psychological readiness.
The first meeting occurs when the person holds no emotional significance - our minds are unreceptive, and recognition is minimal.
The second occurs when one or both individuals are emotionally unavailable or developmentally unaligned, making connection impossible despite potential.
The third meeting happens when both are ready - mentally, emotionally, and circumstantially - allowing deep recognition and bonding to occur.
This theory emphasizes that timing, not just compatibility, governs relational depth.
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