Do I knock?

My fingers hover over the key.

It’s my place too, right?

I stared at the door, suitcase handle was cold in my grip.

Why the hell should I knock?

Still…

I imagine knocking. Like some polite guest, waiting for permission.

No. Screw that.

The key slides into the lock with a soft click. I twist, push the door open, and step inside. The familiar scent of Sunset’s cinnamon-scented candles lingers in the air—comforting and warm. Too warm. Like it’s trying to melt through the ice under my skin.

The sound of a page turning pulled my attention. Sunset’s sprawled on the couch in the living room, a book resting on her lap. She glances up, eyebrows arching when she spots me.

The suitcase in my hand. The look on my face.

"Shopping?" she asks casually, setting the book aside.

My grip tightens on the handle.

Think, James. Think fast.

“Nah.” I forced a smile, dropping the suitcase on the floor with a dull thud. “I was at a friend’s place. One I used to crash at.”

Sunset tilts her head. She doesn’t buy it. I keep going.

“Went to grab some clothes… we, uh…”

Careful now.

“…had a little argument about some stuff. My decisions, mostly. I needed to cool off, so I figured I’d open the bar for a bit. Sorry for lying about not working tonight.”

Wow. Two lies in one sentence. Fantastic work, James.

The words leave a sour taste.

Each syllable feelt heavier than it should.

Life built on lies. Every word now feels just as meaningless.

Am I really like her?

That thought gnaws at the edges of my mind. I shake it off.

"Hello? You still here?"

Sunset’s voice snaps me back. She’s standing now, arms folded, looking at me with that mix of concern and curiosity that she wears so naturally.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “I said it’s okay. But seriously, James, you’ll burn yourself out if you work every time someone gets under your skin.”

I force a chuckle, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, yeah. Just… I knew him for a long time, you know? But turns out, he was just using me. If that’s the right word for it.”

Her expression softens. She steps closer, arms still folded but her gaze sharp. “Using you? What do you mean?”

Shit.

I glance away, focusing on the suitcase instead. “Eh. That’s a story for another time.” I nudge the suitcase with my foot. “Anyway, I think we’re done. I don’t want to see him anytime soon.”

Sunset bites her lip, studying me. "Was it really that bad?"

"Yeah" I mutter, going deeper and sitting on the couch. The cushions sink under my weight. I lean forward resting elbows on my knees.

"He said… he said I was gonna rot in that bar."

Sunset's brows knit together. She moves closer, perching on the armrest beside me.

"You loved your friend that much?" she asks, a teasing lilt in her voice. But there’s something behind it—a test.

I glance at her. The smirk on her lips fades when she sees the look in my eyes.

"Guess I did" I say quietly, looking away.

Her smirk vanishes completely. The room feels colder.

There’s a pause. The air between us stretches thin.

"Were you... and your friend... like this?"

I turn my head sharply. Sunset’s looking away, scratching the back of her head. Her cheeks are tinged pink. The question hangs there.

For a moment, I just stare. Then—

I laugh. A short, bitter bark of a laugh.

“No. I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Sunset blinks. The tension in her shoulders eases, and she lets out a soft breath, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Right. Sorry, that was dumb. I didn’t mean to assume."

But she’s watching me again. Carefully. Like she knows there’s more I’m not saying. Like she’s waiting for the cracks to show.

Her gaze flickers to the suitcase. Then to me. Back to the suitcase.

“You know…” she starts, voice softer now. “It’s okay not to tell me everything. But you don’t have to lie either.”

I glance at her. My smile doesn’t reach my eyes.

“I’m not lying.”

Another lie.

She doesn’t call me out on it. She just sits there, watching me like she knows.

This is how it works, right? Lie about the big stuff. Let them think they’re getting somewhere with the small stuff. As long as they don’t dig too deep, it’s fine. It’s all fine.

But if I keep doing this... if I keep lying...

How long before the whole thing comes crashing down?

“Well” she says, breaking the silence with a small smile, “if you ever feel like telling the real story, you know where I am.”

I glance at her again. There’s no pressure in her voice, no judgment. Just… patience.

Too patient.

I nod, standing up and grabbing the suitcase.

“Maybe someday,” I mutter with a smirk, knocking my knuckles lightly against the top of the suitcase. “But hey, got what I came for. No way I’m ruining this shirt.”

I flash a grin at Sunset, lifting the corner of the suitcase for emphasis.

“This one? Celestia and Luna gave it to me. No way I’m letting it get messed up that quickly.”

Sunset, still lounging on the couch, raises an eyebrow. Then she laughs.

“What?” I ask, tilting my head, a grin still tugging at my lips.

“Oh, nothing” she says, waving a hand but still smiling. “It’s just funny. When I first came here, they did something similar for me.”

She tugs lightly at the black jacket draped over her shoulders.

“See this? Celestia gave it to me. Luna used to wear it when she was our age.”

My smile falters—just for a heartbeat—as my mind runs back to what I know.

If you only knew the story behind that jacket.

Luna probably wore it during her rebellious years… back when things were rougher.

I glance at the jacket again. Funny how things connect.

“Yeah” I say finally, forcing the grin back onto my face. “It’s cool.”

Sunset smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder as she sinks back into the couch.

I head toward my room, dragging the suitcase beside me. The hallway feels longer than usual. Every step echoes a little too loud in my ears. My hand brushes the wall briefly steadying myself or just reminding myself I’m still here.

This is fine.

Everything’s fine.

But halfway through, something nags at me. A thought I can’t shake.

I stop.

The weight of the suitcase in my hand feels heavier now. Not because of the clothes inside—but because of everything it represents.

There’s a part of me—deep down—that wants to let it all out. To just... be real. For once.

And maybe, I glance back over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of Sunset still sitting there, maybe with her?

I take a breath.

“Hey, Sunset?”

She perks up instantly, looking over with a curious expression.

“Yeah?”

I take a few steps back toward the living room, leaning casually against the wall, though I don’t feel casual at all.

“You know… there’s this part of me,” I start, my voice steady but softer than before, “that always wanted life to be simple. Like… right or wrong. Black or white. Something clean. Easy.”

Sunset tilts her head. “Okay…”

I rub the back of my neck, glancing down before meeting her eyes again.

“And I’ve always been sure of myself. About the bar, about my choices. But…” My voice trails off. I tighten my grip on the suitcase handle. “What if I chose wrong?”

Sunset’s eyes narrow slightly, the playful glint in them fading into something more serious. She rises from the couch, stepping toward me.

“You?” she says slowly. “You’re doubting yourself?”

I shrug, looking away.

“This bar… this dream… it always felt so clear to me. Like, this was it. The only thing that made sense. But what if…” I pause, exhaling. “What if it’s just a kid’s dream? Something I’m clinging to because I don’t know what else to do?”

The room goes quiet for a moment.

I can feel her watching me.

And then—

“Talk less.”

I blink, glancing at her. “What?”

Sunset grins, stepping closer.

“Talk less. Do less.”

I stare at her, confused for a second. Then it hits me.

She grins wider, pointing at me. “You said that. To me. Earlier today.”

I pause. Then laugh—soft, surprised.

“Oh, you little—” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair again. “Using my own words against me?”

Sunset shrugs, her smile warm now. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

I lean back against the wall again, letting out a long breath.

“Yeah. Guess I forgot about that.”

My gaze drifts back to the suitcase.

Was I really doubting myself?

Me?

I glance back at Sunset.

“You’re right” I say finally. “I’m dumb for doubting myself.”

Sunset raises an eyebrow, leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded but with smirk on her lips.

“Didn’t expect you to admit that so fast.”

I laugh again. It feels real this time.

“Well, you know me. I don’t plan on living as some untold story. I’d rather go out in a blaze of glory.”

My voice steadies. I look her dead in the eyes.

“I don’t fear it. I’ll live because the bad die last. Wrapped in years of regret? That’s a waste of effort spent.”

Sunset’s smirk softens.

“James…”

I lift the suitcase again, heading toward my room.

“Guess you’re stuck with me for a while.”

As I walk, Sunset pushes off from the wall, following behind.

“I wanna taste love and pain… wanna feel pride and shame. I don’t wanna take my time—don’t wanna waste on a line. I wanna live better days. Never look back and say, it could have been me.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow, trailing a few steps behind.

“So what? You’re just gonna doubt yourself over your life choices, and the next second you’re back to normal?”

I stopped at my bedroom door, glancing back at her with a smirk.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” she repeated, crossing her arms.

“Why shouldn’t I?” I leaned on the doorframe, looking at her with a grin that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Everyone has those moments. I just had a feeling and wanted to talk it out. Is that so wrong?”

Sunset shook her head, hands raised as if surrendering.

“No, no. Of course not. It’s just… you don’t talk about how you feel. I’m used to you spouting facts, not sitting around wondering what if.”

“Oh, stop. You’re flattering me” I shot back with a grin, pushing the door open and walking inside. I placed the suitcase on the bed, popping it open. Clothes, a few books, and one thing I hesitated before pulling out—a photo.

A young me, standing between my mother and father. A family, frozen in time.

I quickly placed the photo on the drawer, hoping Sunset wouldn’t see it. As I grabbed some clothes—underwear included—I tried to shove them into the drawer faster than a magician hiding a trick.

But her sharp smirk told me I wasn’t fast enough.

“Oh, stop,” I said, shooting her a glare as she leaned on the doorframe.

“ What, were you walking around in the same underwear for days?”

Before she could tease further, I pointed at the photo.

“Look how cute I looked when I was young.”

A mistake. The worst possible topic to change to.

Sunset’s teasing expression faded. She stepped inside, drawn to the photo. Her fingers brushed over the frame before she picked it up, staring.

“It’s you… and your…?”

“Yeah.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. “Mom and Dad. But I mostly keep it for him.”

“For your dad?” she asked.

I didn’t respond immediately. Sunset glanced back at me, searching my face for an answer I wasn’t ready to give.

After a long pause, she seemed to understand.

“So… this is the former owner of the bar?” she asked, breaking the tension.

“Pretty much.” I shrugged, trying to sound casual. “He was a wise man. Everyone who knew him says I remind them of him.”

“Really?” Sunset smiled softly, studying the photo again. “You do look like him. Just… I don’t know. Different.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m smaller.” I waved her off, chuckling.

But the smile didn’t last.

“I loved him. I still do.”

The words left my mouth before I could stop them.

Sunset looked at me again. Her gaze softened, and I could see the unspoken question lingering there.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Go on. Ask.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, hesitant.

“Yeah. You want to know, right? So, yes—he’s gone.”

My voice dropped lower, softer.

“He chose a better life. I don’t judge him for it. I’d do the same if I were him.”

Sunset lowered the photo back onto the drawer with care.

“James…”

I forced a grin, trying to keep the air light despite the weight in my chest.

“Yeah. The happy family package—comes with a discount on trauma.”

Sunset raised an eyebrow but didn’t laugh.

I turned away, busying myself with unpacking.

“He remind me of what I really am” I continued. “He’s on a different story now. And I wish him the best.”

The silence that followed felt longer than it probably was. I could feel Sunset watching me again, reading the cracks in my carefully built walls.

Finally, she spoke.

“So? What really happened today?”

I stiffened.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t even try it.” She stepped closer, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re acting different. The bar having problems? You having problems? You’re talking about your feelings, sharing things you usually keep locked up. And now you’re just… casually talking about your father?”

I stayed silent, keeping my back to her.

“This isn’t you.”

I chuckled dryly, trying to shrug it off. “You make it sound like I’m some robot.”

“No” Sunset said quietly. “I’m saying you joke when it hurts.”

That stopped me.

I turned slightly, meeting her gaze.

“You joke when it hurts.” She repeated, softer this time. “Because it’s easier than saying what’s really on your mind.”

I tried to smirk again.

“Well, gotta keep my reputation intact.”

“James.” Her voice held no judgment—only concern. “I… I can try to help you.”

Her eyes searched mine, looking for the truth I wasn’t sure I wanted to give.

For a moment, I considered it. Really considered it.

But the words caught in my throat.

So instead, I laughed—a hollow sound.

“C’mon, Sunset. I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“I am.” I looked her straight in the eyes, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach my own. “Yes.”

But the smile wasn’t real.

“It’s better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality, don’t you think?” I continued, keeping my tone light. “In fact, look at this super family in the photo.”

I gestured lazily toward the picture sitting on the drawer.

“The happy family package” I chuckled hollowly. “except, you know, technically it doesn’t exist anymore. Ha! I’m the only one actually here. This calls for a toast. So, come on, Sunset. Pour the champagne.”

My forced enthusiasm echoed in the room, a little too loud in the quiet space.

Sunset tilted her head, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re dumb”

“Ooh! So when I’m enthusiastic, it’s wrong too?” I grinned, pointing a playful finger at her. “Man, it’s hard to please you, my lady.”

I caught the faintest tint of pink coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, stop”

I laughed again—too easily, too quickly—and clapped my hands together. But even I could feel how forced it sounded.

That sinking feeling returned. Like a hollow pit, opening slowly in the back of my mind.

It wasn’t loud. Not yet. But it was there.

“I mean” I continued with a grin that felt more like a grimace, “this isn’t so bad, right? It’s not hard. I don’t feel like I’m trapped.”

Sunset’s smile faded. She watched me carefully.

“Why?” I asked suddenly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Please, tell me—why should I worry? Why should I be concerned about them?”

I pointed vaguely toward the photo without looking at it.

Sunset’s eyes softened, but there was confusion there too.

“Okay, now you’re acting weird,” she said cautiously.

“Oh please.” I waved a dismissive hand, leaning forward.

“Quick story, really.”

I let the smile linger on my face for just a second longer before letting it fall.

“My dad left because of my mom.” My voice dropped, losing its playful edge. “I hate her. That’s all. Nothing complicated.”

The room seemed to quiet even further.

Sunset’s teasing expression faded entirely, replaced by something sadder.

“That’s… sad.” She said it gently, like she was handling glass that might shatter.

“No. It’s actually not.”

I looked up at her, forcing a grin again.

“I get it. I do. I would’ve done the same thing.”

The words came too easily, but each syllable tasted bitter.

I leaned back, stretching, trying to dismiss the tension building in the room.

“Okay, Sunny, enough of me.” I looked at her with a wide grin, but the cracks in it were obvious. “I’m good now. Back to normal, promise. So tell me what were you doing while I was gone?”

I leaned forward again pretending like I was genuinely interested.

But Sunset didn’t respond right away. She just stared at me, her brow slightly furrowed, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle that didn’t have all its pieces.

“Uh… I was reading” she finally said, voice slower than usual. “And writing in my journal.”

“Ooh! The journal!” I perked up instantly, snapping my fingers. “I saw it when I was waiting for you and Applejack earlier. You writing something juicy in there?”

She looked at me, still confused by my sudden mood shift.

“You could say that.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be shy” I grinned. “A little sneak peek for your favorite bartender?”

Sunset didn’t laugh. She didn’t tease me back.

Instead, she smiled softly, but there was a sadness in her eyes now.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I feigned disappointment, letting my shoulders slump dramatically. “What, no special access for your roommate?”

She shook her head with a faint smile.

“No. I just think…” She hesitated, stepping toward the doorway. “Whatever happened today had a bigger impact on you than you think. You’re just… saying random things to keep yourself guarded.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off with a raised hand.

“When you start thinking clearly, you know where to find me.” She pointed toward her room with a small smirk. “Maybe I’ll even get up from sleeping if you knock.”

I watched her leave, the door clicking softly behind her.

What? Anyway

Maybe I should take a shower. The last one was… when? Celestia and Luna’s place? I lifted my shirt to my nose. Yeah. It stinks. Perfect.

Dragging my feet to the drawer, I yanked it open. The underwear I had just put away stared back at me. Now I was pulling it out again.

“Productivity at its finest”

The words felt hollow. I grabbed a shirt and some shorts. No way I’d sleep in just underwear. Can’t risk Sunset catching a glimpse of my big muscles. I smirked at my own joke. Empty. Pointless.

The bathroom was small. Cramped. No one would bother me here.

“Oh, right.” I stared at the empty shelf. Shampoo. I forgot it. “Sunset won’t mind if I borrow hers, right?” Another joke. Another distraction. The words came easily, too easily.

I stripped and stepped into the shower. The water hit me. Warm, almost comforting. But distant. Like it wasn’t meant for me.

I stood still. Letting the water run over me. Watching it slip down my arms. It looked like tears.

Today was something, right? Another day. Another performance. Another lie.

I don’t have a mother. Not anymore.

I’ve been trying for so long. Trying to prove myself. To show her something

Anything

That would make her proud. The bar. My dream. My passion. I thought maybe if I showed her the right thing, she’d see me. She’d understand.

But no. Always defensive. Always dismissive. She listened like I was some puzzle she didn’t care enough to solve. Pieces she refused to put together.

Why? Was it because I’m like him? Like my father? Is that why she looked at me like that?

Her mistakes broke us. Not his. She couldn’t be fixed. But still… why does it feel like my chest is caving in? Why do I feel like I’m breaking right along with her?

I’m running out of patience.

Out of energy.

Out of excuses.

This is how it should end.

But am I… mourning her? Mourning what? The idea of her? The hope that she ever cared?

How could I lose control like that? I don’t act on emotions. Never have. And yet… there I was. Exploding. Screaming. Bleeding emotions I never wanted anyone to see.

And Sunset. What was that back in my room? Talking about myself? Opening up? Who the hell am I turning into?

The thoughts came faster. Crashing into each other. My breath hitched.

I slammed my fist into the wall.

Once.

Twice.

The dull ache crawled up my arm. Not enough.

The tears came.

No. No, no. I can’t. Sunset might hear. She can’t hear this.

Desperate, I bit down on my palm. Hard. The sharp sting shot through me. Blood. I tasted it.

But the tears didn’t stop.

The pain wasn’t enough.

I slid down the wall.

The cold tiles pressing against my back.

No. I can’t. I have to stop.

But I couldn’t.

The tears poured out. Hot. Relentless. My vision blurred. My chest tightened.

No air.

My hand trembled against my mouth. The bite marks deepened. Red streaks bloomed across my skin.

What’s wrong with me?

I tried to breathe. Couldn’t. My chest felt too tight. The room spun. The water roared in my ears.

I wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Not me.

I was the one who always had a plan. The one who joked. The one who stayed in control.

But right now?

Right now, I was just a broken boy.

But that wasn’t right, was it?

I’m a mastermind.

I whispered it aloud, my voice rasping against the walls.

The master of my fate.

This was my path. This bar. This life. I chose it. No one else.

Only death could take it from me.

And yet…

Fuck her.

My nails scraped the tiled wall. The bite marks on my palm stung. I welcomed the pain.

She did this to me.

It felt like I was hitting every mark in a script I didn’t write.

Like I was an actor in her play.

That’s what she wanted.

To get into my head. Twist my thoughts. Make me doubt.

This isn’t me.

I shook my head, water flying from my hair. My vision blurred. I wasn’t sure if it was from the steam or the tears.

This isn’t me.

I clenched my jaw. Hard.

I’m like a software program. Efficient. Precise. Not some kid who can’t handle his emotions.

But the thoughts kept coming.

Is this when it ends?

My fingers curled into fists again.

How did I not see this coming?

My mind’s camera, once so clear, now felt foggy.

A clouded lens taking darker pictures than ever before.

I know now.

I laughed, hollow and bitter.

I was just a pawn. A piece she moved whenever she pleased. She’s won the game.

She got what she wanted.

Tears welled up again.

Unstoppable.

I’m doubting everything. My choices. My future. My dream.

Things I never doubted before. She was still there, haunting my mind.

No.

The word came out a snarl.

No.

I hit the wall again. Harder this time. Pain bloomed up my arm. Still not enough.

I won’t let her win.

My life will go on. Exactly how I planned. My bar—my bar—will break the system.

I will break the system.

I breathed hard. Shaky.

My reflection in the shower’s metal tap blurred. I barely recognized myself.

I’ve always stayed a step ahead.

But she was there. The whole way. Holding me back. Dragging me down.

Not anymore.

“This is where it ends.”

I whispered it like a vow.

My hands trembled. I looked down.

Blood mixed with water on my palm from the bite marks.

The sight grounded me.

I see it now.

She’s in the past.

She’ll never come back.

She’ll never have the chance to drag me down again.

I lifted my hand to my face, running my bloodied palm over my features.

A twisted grin pulled at my lips.

I got away.

She’s behind a closed door, and I’ve thrown away the key.

My life is my own now.

I let the water wash over me one last time.

The sting of the cuts on my hand reminded me of the truth.

No one will see this side of me again.

Not Sunset.

Not anyone.

That wasn’t me.

This—this—is me.

I laughed again, louder this time.

The sound bounced off the walls. Almost convincing.

I’m too intelligent for this.

I’m above it.

I have priorities.

A plan.

A life I built with my own two hands.

Why bother looking back when everything I need is ahead?

Tomorrow is another day.

Another me.

And this time?

There are no lies in that.

I have everything now.

I will stand proud.

I will make something of myself. My bar will become what I dreamed. I will matter.

I stared at my reflection in the tap again.

You’ll be proud of me, Dad.

You’ll see.

The water stopped. The room fell silent.

Slowly, I stepped out of the shower,

I reached for a towel and dried myself, feeling the rough fabric scrape against my arms. I wiped the fog from the mirror with a single swipe of my hand. The reflection that stared back at me wasn’t one I expected.

My eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red from tears I hadn’t wanted to shed. My face was pink, raw from the heat of the water and…everything else.

Fuck.

The palm I had bitten was still bleeding faintly. My knuckles were red and split, evidence of the fists I had thrown against the cold, unfeeling tiles.

I really let myself go, huh?

For years I’d been holding everything in. Every doubt. Every frustration. Every hurt. Bottled up, hidden behind smiles and sarcasm.

But not anymore. I wasn’t going to let it weigh me down again.

A smile pulled at my lips—small but real.

No more regrets. Not ever again.

I wouldn’t regret my choices. I wouldn’t regret this life. I wouldn’t cry again over things I couldn’t change.

And then—

In the mirror, right there, I saw him.

My dad.

His hand resting gently on my shoulder. The same warm smile he always wore when he looked at me.

I spun around.

Nothing.

Just the empty bathroom. The same cracked tiles. The faint smell of Sunset’s shampoo lingering in the air.

...Okay. Losing my mind now. Fantastic.

Shaking my head, I slipped on my shorts and shirt. I gave the mirror one last look. The reflection looked back. Tired, but standing.

Weird.

I opened the bathroom door, ready to head to my room. But before I could take a step—

Sunset’s door creaked open.

She stepped out, her fiery hair slightly messy, eyes squinting in the dim hallway light.

“What was that banging on the wa—”

Her words cut off the moment her eyes landed on me.

I knew exactly what she saw.

A mess. A guy with blood still drying on his knuckles. Eyes red from crying. Someone who looked nothing like the confident, teasing James she’d gotten used to.

Her expression shifted instantly. From curiosity to fear.

“What… what did you do?” she asked.

I met her gaze. And I smiled. Wide. Carefree. Like nothing had happened.

“I let go.”

Her brows knitted together.

“I wasn’t fine before, Sunny,” I said, running a hand through my damp hair. “But now? Now I truly am. Something was dragging me down. But it’s gone. For good.”

She looked at me for a long moment, searching my face for something—anything.

Then—

Sniff. Sniff.

“…Did you take my shampoo?”

Seriously?

I crossed my arms and raised a brow. “That’s what concerns you? Not the fact that I look like I went ten rounds with a brick wall? Not why I was in there looking like a wreck?”

She shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Well, you’re standing, aren’t you? And besides… I knew whatever was bothering you wouldn’t stay for long.”

I stared at her. “Okay, you don’t make sense now.”

Sunset rolled her eyes and stepped closer.

“This was about your parents, wasn’t it?” she asked softly. “You were… different when you talked about them. If it’s a bad topic for you, why should I push it?”

Her words hit a little harder than I expected.

I hesitated.

“Because…” I started, scratching the back of my head, “...because we’re friends?”

Her eyes widened for a second, surprised by the word, before softening into a smile.

“Yeah. We are.”

I didn’t know why that felt… good to hear.

“So?” she continued, leaning against the doorframe with that signature smirk of hers. “You gonna tell me what really happened in there?”

I smirked right back.

“Nah. You lost your chance.”

“Hey!” She shot upright, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You never wanted to tell me!”

“Yeah,” I said, backing toward my room, “but you could’ve asked sooner.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!”

“Goodnight, Sunset!”

I grinned, watching her face twist in frustration. She huffed, crossing her arms, but I could tell she wasn’t really mad.

With a final wave, I closed my bedroom door.

Leaning against it for a moment, I chuckled to myself.

Man, I love getting her riled up.

I flopped onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. The room felt quieter now. More peaceful.

Wonder if we’ll ever get close enough for me to tell her the truth.

Author's Note

Hey, again can't sleep so i write, checked this 6 times all from beggining, i hope you like it.... Its diffrent than other of my stories, maybe this feels like repeat from other one of my stories but, who hadn't had a talk with himself while having a shower? tommorow the first day of school starts.