Heartbreak

The air outside was crisp, but the warmth of the morning sun painted soft golden streaks across the pavement as Andrea and Taylor strolled toward the dining hall. The moment Andrea spotted Lily emerging from the restroom, her face flushed, eyes darting away, she frowned.

"Lily, are you okay?" Andrea asked, concern laced in her voice.

Lily hesitated for a beat before nodding, though her voice came out softer than usual. "Yeah… I am." She swallowed, forcing a smile. "Thank you, girls. For having my back."

Taylor smirked knowingly, her gaze flicking between Lily and Gleed. "Yeah… I mean, what are friends for?" The words dripped with unspoken meaning, and when she met Gleed's gaze, the corner of her lips curled in amusement.

The girls had breakfast before heading to school, the usual chatter filling the air. But Andrea barely registered it.

She was trying to outrun a ghost.

She threw herself into rehearsal with a reckless intensity, each movement sharper, faster, more aggressive than necessary. She could hear Madam Dele'clov's voice, distant but edged with concern.

"Andrea, slow down! You're pushing yourself too hard."

"I'm fine," Andrea shot back, breathless. "You yourself said I was lagging. I can't afford to lag."

"But you must know there is a thin line between wanting to do better and straining yourself," her tutor cautioned. "Strain leads to injury, and an injury now? You can't afford that with Broadway scouts coming soon. We want raw emotions, yes. Flexibility, yes. But not at the cost of your well-being."

Andrea barely heard her. She moved again, spinning, leaping—her mind clouded, the echo of Joe's voice in her head. His laughter. His absence. The ache of wanting someone who had already let go.

She twisted mid-air, her body stretching past its limit—then a sharp pain shot through her ankle. A gasp tore from her throat as she crumpled to the floor, clutching her leg.

A blur of movement. Footsteps. And then—

"Hey, are you okay?"

Andrea blinked up to see Nolan crouching beside her, his green eyes shadowed with worry.

"I'm fine," she muttered, attempting to push herself up. But when she caught the way his brows furrowed, the slight downturn of his lips, she sighed. "Thanks."

Nolan tilted his head, studying her. "What are you even doing to yourself?"

Andrea exhaled sharply, rubbing at her forehead. "Just… trying to keep up."

"You call this keeping up?" he asked, glancing at her ankle. "Lemme help."

Before she could protest, he reached for her foot, careful but firm. Andrea tensed. The warmth of his fingers sent an unexpected shiver through her, and she hated how much she noticed the way his hand lingered, how it felt to be held like this.

With practiced ease, he tied his handkerchief around her ankle, his movements sure and precise.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked, unable to stop herself.

A small smile ghosted across his lips. "I was an athlete in high school. We did this whenever someone had a sprain."

Andrea nodded, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

Nolan glanced up, and for the first time, he noticed something beyond just the physical pain. A sadness clung to her, something she was trying to bury beneath all this pushing, all this striving.

"An… what's wrong?" he asked softly.

Andrea stiffened. The question threatened to unravel something inside her, something she wasn't sure she could piece back together.

"It… hurts," she whispered.

And she wasn't talking about her ankle.

She tried to fight it, to blink back the sting behind her eyes, but the dam broke. A shaky sob escaped her lips, and before she could stop herself, she was crying.

Nolan reacted without hesitation. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, letting her cry into his chest. His hand found the small of her back, rubbing slow circles, murmuring, "I got you. Just let it out."

Andrea clung to him.

For the first time in a long time, she let herself fall apart.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually, the weight of the moment shifted. When she pulled back, her eyes met his, and suddenly, the air between them was different.

Thicker. Charged.

She could see it in the way Nolan's fingers flexed against her waist, in the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. His gaze flickered to her lips—just for a second—but it was enough to set her pulse racing.

She should pull away. She knew that. But her body betrayed her, leaning forward just slightly, just enough for their lips to brush. A hesitant pause—then, as if drawn by an invisible force, the kiss deepened.

Heat. Softness. The slow unraveling of something she hadn't realized was there all along.

And then—

A sharp intake of breath.

Andrea pulled back just enough to see them.

Gleed. Taylor. And—

Lily.

Lily, who stood frozen, her face carefully blank, except for the way her hands clenched at her sides.

Taylor's eyes flicked to Lily, then back at Andrea and Nolan, something knowing in her expression. "Nolan has always liked Andrea," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "But she never noticed. Not when she was too obsessed with Joe."

Lily inhaled sharply, her lips pressing into a tight line. A bitter smile ghosted over her face, as if she were forcing herself to accept it.

So it was Andrea, she thought.

The answer had been in front of her all along, and yet she had been foolish enough to believe—just for a second—that maybe Nolan had seen her.

That maybe, he had looked at her the way he was looking at Andrea now.

A lump formed in her throat.

"You know what?" Lily said, forcing a chuckle that didn't reach her eyes. "I don't really feel like eating anymore. I'll see you guys later."

And then, without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked away.

But the moment she was out of sight, her steps faltered. Her vision blurred.

Why wasn't it me?

She had never allowed herself to compare. Never wanted to. But now, the thought clawed at her relentlessly.

How could she ever compare to Andrea?

Gleed and Taylor watched Lily's retreating figure in silence, a shared sadness settling between them. They exchanged a glance before stepping away themselves, giving Andrea and Nolan the space they needed.

Andrea's breath was shaky as she finally pulled away, reality crashing down on her. She looked at Nolan, his expression unreadable, his lips still parted slightly as if he wanted to say something.

"I… I'm sorry," she blurted, grabbing her bag. "I shouldn't have—" She shook her head, stepping back. "I'm sorry."

And then she was gone, leaving Nolan sitting there, his fingers still curled in the air where she had been.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair, a sad smile tugging at his lips.

He should have known better.

But for a second—just one second—he had let himself believe she had felt it too.