The Bowling Match

"When you called me over to hang out, I didn't expect this," Ethan exhaled, his tone somewhere between amusement and mild exasperation as the kids latched onto his arms, tugging him inside the house.

"Sorry! Things didn't exactly go according to plan," Agnes apologized, gently pulling their jackets from them and hanging them on the coat rack. Her tone was warm and genuine, but there was a hint of apology in her sparkling blue eyes—eyes that Ethan found himself captivated by more often than he'd like to admit.

"But hey," she continued, flashing him an easy smile that sent a flutter through his chest, "I really do appreciate your help. And—as a thank you—I'll make us some hot chocolate!"

Just great, Ethan thought bitterly as he watched her disappear into the kitchen. This wasn't how he'd pictured their afternoon going. It was rare enough for Agnes to suggest hanging out, but when her parents called to say they wouldn't be home on time—both stuck at work, unironically—everything changed. Their original plans for a casual outing had been replaced with babysitting duty for Agnes's younger siblings, Leona and Elias. Seven and eight years old, respectively, the two were as energetic as they were mischievous.

Ethan sighed. He'd secretly hoped for some quality time with Agnes, a chance to finally talk to her—really talk. But now? Her attention was divided, and so was his. And yet, even in the chaos, he couldn't help but notice her.

Her shoulder-length, nearly golden blonde hair shimmered under the soft light of the living room, perfectly framing her delicate face. Her crystal-clear blue eyes sparkled with an almost ethereal brightness, like the reflection of sunlight on water. Faint freckles dusted her cheeks and nose, giving her an understated charm. Her graceful, slender figure only added to her elegance, no doubt shaped by years of ballet training. Agnes was captivating in every way, and it drove Ethan crazy that she didn't seem to notice him—not like that, anyway.

They didn't talk much, and Ethan told himself it was understandable. She had her ballet career to focus on, and when she wasn't tied up with that, Paul always seemed to steal her time. Paul. Just the thought of his name made Ethan's jaw tighten.

"Oh, that's right," Agnes called from the kitchen, her voice breaking his train of thought. "Paul's stopping by real quick. He's just returning that book he borrowed—hope you don't mind?"

Of course, Ethan thought, biting back the urge to groan. Paul and Agnes were practically neighbors, only a stone's throw from each other. It made sense he'd swing by so easily.

Before Ethan could dwell on it, the front door opened, and there he was. Paul stepped in like he belonged there, a sleek and towering figure who looked older than his seventeen years. His height gave him an air of authority, and the way he carried himself—calm, composed, too perfect—only added to it. His dark, neatly styled hair framed a kind, symmetrical face. He wore a sharp, tailored coat that somehow managed to look effortless. Sophisticated, generous, and always polite, Paul was the kind of guy who seemed untouchable. And that pissed Ethan off even more.

Paul greeted Agnes with a warm smile and handed her the book he'd borrowed. But of course, he didn't stop there. He also brought her favorite sweets: delicate wagashi, Japanese confections shaped like flowers, subtly sweet and almost too beautiful to eat. The moment Agnes saw them, her eyes lit up, and Ethan felt the burn in his chest intensify.

Their interaction was brief—Paul left as soon as he came—but the look on Agnes's face said it all. A soft smile lingered on her lips, and Ethan didn't miss the faint blush dusting her cheeks. So, Agnes liked him, huh?

Ethan sank back onto the floor, playing half-heartedly with Leona and Elias, but his mood had soured. He glanced at himself in the reflection of the coffee table. Short for his age, with a boyish face and messy brown hair that always seemed to stick up in the wrong places, he looked far younger than seventeen. With his lean, almost scrawny frame and dark brown eyes that lacked Paul's sparkle, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that he was no match for someone like him.

Agnes returned to the living room a moment later, balancing a tray of steaming hot chocolates. "Sorry about that," she said softly, setting the mugs on the coffee table. "I didn't think my parents would leave me stranded, but here we are."

"Oh, I want some!" Leona exclaimed, grabbing a cup with a cute rabbit motif painted on the side.

"Me too!" Elias chimed in, grabbing his own.

Agnes smiled as she handed Ethan a larger mug. "It's alright, Aggie," Ethan muttered, using her childhood nickname as he moved from the floor to the couch beside her.

She gave him a small, grateful smile before settling into the cushions, her blonde hair falling lightly over her shoulders. But Ethan barely noticed the warmth of the hot chocolate in his hands. His thoughts were elsewhere—still simmering with jealousy and uncertainty as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, before I forget," Agnes began, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her expression shifted slightly, a mix of curiosity and unease. "I wanted to ask you about this, because… well, it seems a little odd. It almost feels like a mistake on Jake's part?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow as Agnes unlocked her phone and held it out toward him. She had the group chat pulled up—the one Jake had started.

"A hangout, next Friday?" she said, her tone uncertain. "Do you know anything about this, Ethan? These are your classmates, aren't they? I don't even know how this 'Jake' got my number, let alone why he'd invite me to something like this."

Ethan squinted at the screen, his stomach twisting slightly. Leave it to Jake to stir things up in his usual impulsive way. But before he could say anything, Agnes continued, her voice softening slightly.

"I mean… I've only really kept in touch with a few people over the years. You, Leah, Mira, and…" She paused, her words catching in her throat. "…Fayne."

That pause didn't go unnoticed. Ethan's brows furrowed as he glanced up at her, trying to read her expression. Why did she stop like that? Why had saying Fayne's name caused her hesitation?

Agnes shifted uncomfortably, her fingers brushing the edges of her phone. It was subtle, but to Ethan, it felt like there was something unspoken lingering beneath the surface.

"Well, anyway," Agnes added quickly, clearing her throat, "do you know anything about this? Should I just… ignore it?"

Ethan hesitated. He wasn't sure what bothered him more—Jake's reckless invitation or the strange way Agnes reacted to mentioning Fayne's name.

He wanted to continue the topic, to ask why Agnes hesitated, but the words wouldn't come. How could he even bring it up without it sounding… off?

Huh. Now that he thought about it, the way Leah, Mira, and… Fayne had so seamlessly integrated into their circle recently—it struck him as interesting. They'd all started hanging out more often, almost naturally, but Fayne's name… it felt like it came up more than the others.

Fayne.

Agnes had mentioned her name before over the years, enough for Ethan to notice a pattern. What was their connection like, really? It wasn't something he'd paid much attention to back then, but now it seemed worth questioning. Especially now, with Agnes's sudden pause—why had she hesitated like that? Why did she suddenly seem so uneasy at the mention of Fayne?

Ethan's thoughts spiraled as he glanced at Agnes. She wasn't saying anything either, fiddling absently with the edges of her phone, her expression unreadable. There was something there—something he couldn't quite figure out. And it bothered him.

For now, Ethan decided not to pry. Whatever was going on between Agnes and Fayne, he figured it wasn't his place to dig—at least, not yet. But the pause, the hesitation... it stuck with him. Maybe he'd keep a closer eye on Fayne moving forward, just in case there was more to this than he realized.

Shaking off the thought, he redirected his focus to the original topic at hand. Ethan had received the invite too, of course, but he hadn't thought much of it at first. He certainly hadn't expected Agnes to get invited as well. What was Jake planning? And, more importantly, how had he even gotten her number in the first place?

"Stick around for now," Ethan said finally, offering a reassuring smile. "I'll bring this up with Jake on Monday and figure out what's going on."

Agnes looked at him for a moment, her unease fading slightly. "Thanks, Ethan," she said softly. She still seemed a little unsettled, but at least she wasn't brushing it off entirely.

As she glanced back at her phone, Ethan made a mental note to confront Jake. Whatever this was, he needed answers.

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When Raxian arrived at school, he spotted his group lingering in the hallway. They were deep in conversation, their voices low but tense. Usually, his arrival would turn heads, but this time, no one noticed him. Curious, he decided to hang back and observe.

"What are you thinking, Jake? What exactly are you planning?" Ethan's voice cut through the chatter, sharp with irritation.

"Wow, calm down there. What's the big fuss about?" Jake replied, raising his hands in mock defense, though his grin betrayed his amusement.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Ethan shot back, crossing his arms. "Why would you invite her?"

"Her?" Raxian leaned against the lockers, straining to catch every word. Who was Ethan talking about?

Jake rolled his eyes dramatically. "Hey, she's Leah's and Mira's friend, isn't she?" He gestured toward the two, who exchanged a hesitant glance but didn't immediately respond.

"Sure," Ethan admitted, "but it's not like she knows the rest of you."

"So what?" Jake shrugged, his grin widening. "Sable didn't know most of us at first either. That worked out fine, didn't it? Even Raze joined in during Sable's farewell. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

Ethan's jaw tightened. "How about you think before you start randomly inviting people into the group?" His tone was sharper now, his frustration bleeding through.

Jake tilted his head, his grin turning mischievous. "Ethan, what's gotten into you, bro? Got a crush on her or something?"

Ethan froze, his cheeks flushing slightly, though he quickly covered it up with a glare. "That's not the point," he muttered, but his reaction didn't go unnoticed.

Jake laughed, clapping Ethan on the back. "Relax, man. It's just a hangout. No need to overthink it."

Raxian watched from the sidelines, intrigued by the exchange. Clearly, there was more to this than Jake's casual attitude suggested. And judging by Ethan's reaction, this mystery guest was someone important—at least to him.

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"Hey, Ethan," Leah approached him after first period, her tone curious but hesitant.

Ethan glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah? What's up?"

"So, this whole ordeal with Agnes… Why does it bother you so much?" she asked, folding her arms as she studied his reaction.

Ethan stiffened slightly, then frowned. "Well, don't you think it's strange? I mean, I'm not overthinking it, am I? What business does Jake have with Agnes?"

Leah tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well… we've mentioned her before, considering she's our friend, but yeah, I'll admit it's a bit strange. It's not like she's connected to our circle otherwise. Do you think Jake somehow… knows her personality?"

"NO, he doesn't!" Ethan blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. His response caught Leah off guard, and his cheeks flushed as he realized how loud he'd been. Clearing his throat, he added, "I mean, there's no way", it wasn't like Jake was a bad guy or anything, but… he just didn't see it, and considering Agnes's initial reaction getting invited... yeah there was no way.

Leah raised an eyebrow, her curiosity deepening. "I see," she said slowly, her tone laced with suspicion. Ethan's defensive reaction told her more than his words. He was way more worked up over Agnes than he was letting on. So… that was it, huh? There might be more going on between Ethan and Agnes than she initially thought.

But there was something else nagging at her, too. Ever since they'd all watched Agnes's rehearsal and the firework show together, Fayne hadn't mentioned Agnes at all. Not once. And whenever Mira or Leah herself casually brought her up in conversation, Fayne seemed eager to change the subject.

What was going on there?

Leah glanced at Ethan again, who was fidgeting slightly, clearly still annoyed by the situation. This whole thing was getting more tangled than she'd expected. Maybe there were a few more dynamics at play than anyone was admitting.

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Why was their group so fixated on her? Fayne thought to herself as she strode across the street, Leah, Mira, Ava, and Logan walking beside her. Why now? Why had Agnes suddenly become such a central topic?

Ever since their little outing with Leah, Mira, Agnes, and Paul—where they watched Agnes perform and later went to the fireworks, where Fayne had invited Milo to join—Fayne had been avoiding Agnes. She hadn't admitted it to Mira or Leah, but she couldn't bring herself to face her. Agnes didn't come up often in conversation, but on the rare occasions she did, Fayne found herself redirecting the topic.

Watching Agnes's ballet performance had stirred something deep within her, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it. Especially not while trying to navigate her confusing feelings for Sable.

Sable. She'd spent so much time wondering what it would've been like if Sable had reciprocated her feelings—if they'd grown closer in a way Fayne had secretly dreamed of. But even those thoughts left her conflicted. Was she even interested in physical closeness? Or had Sable sparked something else entirely?

Sable had always been mysterious, fun, and so… different from Fayne. Maybe it wasn't the physical aspect she was drawn to. Maybe it was the excitement, the connection, the thrill of someone so unlike herself.

But then there was Agnes.

Watching her dance had been… something else. The grace, the delicacy, the way she seemed to float effortlessly across the stage—it had left Fayne captivated in a way she hadn't expected. And that was terrifying. Agnes wasn't just someone she admired from a distance. She was a friend. A friend Fayne had known for years.

What was Fayne's sexuality, really?

Having a crush on Sable had been confusing enough—an emotional minefield she still wasn't sure how to navigate. But now, the possibility of developing feelings for Agnes? That didn't sit well with her. Maybe that was why she'd been avoiding her lately. It was easier to ignore than to confront.

But was it even a crush? Fayne's thoughts spiraled as she wrestled with the uncertainty. Maybe she just needed more time to figure this out—to figure herself out.

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"Milo," Fayne said later that evening, calling him up as soon as she got home. She told herself it was for their regular League session, something they did every week like clockwork. But deep down, she knew her true intentions were slipping through the cracks.

As they loaded into a game, with Milo spectating her Seraphine play, it became apparent something was off. Fayne wasn't herself. Her movements were hesitant, her positioning sloppy, and her timing off. Milo noticed it right away.

"What's going on, Fayne?" he asked, his voice calm but concerned.

Her ADC, FrostHaven, sent her a message in chat as well:

"sup, you good?"

Fayne winced at the question, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing on her. FrostHaven wasn't just any random teammate—he was the Ashe main from Sable's old team, Ascendant Force. Contacts like him didn't come easily, and it was Milo who had pulled the strings to set up these weekly play sessions. Sable might not have been playing much with FrostHaven anymore, but Milo had convinced him to help Fayne practice, queuing for normal drafts to give her valuable experience.

"Y-yeah," BlossomWisp typed back quickly, though her response wasn't convincing in the slightest.

"Just stay back for now," FrostHaven replied, taking a more passive approach as he farmed under tower. His tone was distant but understanding enough to give her some breathing room. Fayne exhaled, grateful for the reprieve.

But Milo wasn't letting it go. "Fayne," he said through their call, his tone gentler now. "You okay? This isn't like you."

Fayne hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly on her keyboard. Finally, she sighed. "I… used League as an excuse to talk to you. I'm really not feeling up for this right now..." Her voice was quiet, tinged with guilt.

Milo—PathFinder in the game—sent FrostHaven a private message.

"Let's wrap this game up quickly. That's it for today's practice."

FrostHaven took a moment to respond, but eventually agreed, even if reluctantly. Once the game was over, he didn't say much—at least not directly. Instead, he sent Fayne a private message:

"If you don't feel up for it, don't force these play sessions. If you're not going to take it seriously, we might as well call it off. I've got other things to do."

The bluntness of the message hit hard. Fayne stared at the screen, her chest tightening. She knew he wasn't entirely wrong. She had been off. She hadn't been focused. She hadn't been fair to her teammates—or to herself.

But still… it hurt.

Maybe she deserved it.

--------------------------

When FrostHaven logged off, the pang in Fayne's chest deepened. Guilt churned in her stomach, and the weight of disappointment pressed heavily on her. What was she doing? She'd been the one to initiate the play session, to call everyone together. The least she could've done was perform, right? Especially with someone like FrostHaven involved.

But she couldn't. These swirling thoughts, these feelings she couldn't quite pin down—they consumed her. It felt impossible to focus on anything else.

The silence in the call felt heavier now, almost oppressive, until Milo finally broke it.

"So, Fayne," he said gently, his voice steady but probing. "Tell me what's on your mind. You know you can always talk to me."

His words cut through the fog of her thoughts, grounding her for a moment. She hesitated, her fingers twitching slightly on her mouse as if searching for a distraction. But there wasn't one. Milo's calm patience left no room for escape.

"I…" Fayne started, then stopped, unsure how to even put her thoughts into words. She exhaled shakily. "It's not just one thing, Milo. It's… everything. I feel like my head's a mess."

"Start with one thing," Milo suggested, his tone unwavering. "What's the first thing that comes to mind?"

Fayne hesitated again, her mind racing. Was it Agnes? Sable? The tension she couldn't seem to resolve within herself? She didn't know where to begin, but Milo's steady presence on the other end of the line gave her just enough courage to try.

"What could…" Fayne hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. "What truly is my sexuality?"

Milo blinked, surprised by her directness. He hadn't expected her to dive right in like that.

"What do you mean?" he asked gently, his tone encouraging her to continue.

"I developed a crush on Sable, right?" Fayne began, her words tumbling out faster now. "So I assumed I was… you know… into girls, maybe? And then…" She paused, exhaling shakily. "I thought I was starting to develop another crush on this other friend. You know, the one from the firework festival?"

"You mean Agnes?" Milo asked. It couldn't have been Mira or Leah, right? They were Fayne's classmates, people she interacted with every day. Fayne didn't seem particularly invested in them—not in that sense. And as she'd already said, she was likely into girls, so Paul didn't fit the picture either.

"Yeah…" Fayne admitted, her voice quieter now. "Agnes. Agnes is someone I've known for years, actually. Remember when I told you I went to choir as a kid? Well, she was part of that choir too."

Milo hummed thoughtfully, letting her continue.

"That's why it felt so strange when I saw her ballet performance on stage—the rehearsal I told you about. The same day before we went to see the fireworks. It…" She stopped, searching for the right words. "It awakened some… strange feelings in me. Feelings I didn't know how to handle. So I thought the best thing to do was to distance myself from Agnes after that. I figured it wouldn't matter much since we don't keep in touch very often anyway. She probably wouldn't even notice."

Her words were coming faster now, like a dam breaking. "And with everything going on lately—with Sable, Raxian, and our groups at school—I thought it was easier to just… leave it alone."

Milo stayed silent for a moment, processing everything she'd said. Finally, he spoke, carefully choosing his words.

"So… you've been…"

"Avoiding her," Fayne finished for him, her voice heavy with guilt.

Milo let out a quiet sigh. "Fayne, it sounds like you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself to figure this out all at once. It's okay to feel confused—it's okay to not have all the answers right now. But… avoiding Agnes isn't going to make those feelings go away. It sounds like they're just weighing on you even more."

Fayne bit her lip, her eyes glued to the faint glow of her monitor. "I just… I don't know what to do, Milo."

"And not just that…" Fayne hesitated, her voice growing quieter. "I thought I wanted to be more than 'just friends' with Sable, right? But… even though I had a dream where we…" She paused, her cheeks warming slightly. "…kissed… I don't know if that's quite what I—" She stopped herself again, struggling to put her feelings into words.

"I think what really attracted me to her was her boldness," she finally admitted. "She was so daring and exciting, so… not afraid to speak her mind. She just seemed so cool in a way that I could never imagine being. It's probably that 'excitement' that got to me more than anything else."

Fayne exhaled shakily, her thoughts tangling as she tried to make sense of everything. "But then I wondered… why did Agnes's ballet performance affect me so much? I've never thought of her that way before. She's just… Agnes. A friend I've known forever. But on stage… she looked so graceful and… wonderful."

Her voice softened further, barely above a whisper. "I just don't understand it, Milo. I don't understand myself."

Milo stayed quiet for a moment, letting her words settle. The silence stretched just long enough to be comforting, giving Fayne the space to breathe and think. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady and calm.

"Fayne," he began, "it sounds like you're caught between figuring out what you feel and why you feel it. That's not an easy place to be, but it's okay. You don't have to have all the answers right now. Sometimes, feelings don't fit into neat little boxes—they're complicated. And that's okay, too."

"But," Milo continued, his voice measured but gentle, "I can't exactly claim to understand this form of attraction since I haven't experienced it myself with anyone, ever. But it sounds like… you're not seeking physical closeness, but more about the way you connect with people. On an emotional level?"

Fayne blinked, unsure where this conversation was leading, but she listened closely. Milo's analysis seemed surprisingly on point, even if it felt unsettling to hear it laid out like that.

"Sable seemed cool and thrilling to you, Agnes… elegant and…" He paused, searching for the right word. "...dignified?"

Fayne nodded, the word fitting perfectly in her mind. Agnes had been dignified on that stage, with every movement flowing like poetry.

Milo pressed on, his tone thoughtful. "But let me ask you something. You said you've never thought of Agnes this way before—not during all the years you've known her. It was only on stage, during the performance, that she managed to capture your attention. So… could it be that you're attracted to what Agnes represents on stage, and not actually Agnes herself?"

Fayne furrowed her brow, letting the thought settle in her mind. It made sense in a way she hadn't considered. Agnes had always been Agnes, a friend, someone she had known for so long. But seeing her on stage, her elegance, the way she commanded attention—it had struck her differently.

"And…" Milo hesitated, taking a moment before continuing, "Could it be the same deal with Sable? It's the 'mystery' that excites you, right? Not Sable and Agnes themselves, but what they represent? Their energy, the parts of themselves that are hidden or… not fully understood?"

Fayne's heart skipped a beat as the question hit home. Was that it? Was she simply drawn to the mystery, to the allure of someone being more than what was obvious? She'd admired Sable for her confidence and her unpredictability, but… had it been Sable herself, or the idea of her? The mystery of her? And Agnes—was it the image of her on stage, not the real person she knew offstage?

Fayne felt a weight lift from her chest. She didn't have all the answers yet, but maybe, just maybe, she was starting to understand where her feelings were coming from.

"Thanks, Milo…" Fayne said softly, her voice carrying a weight of sincerity. She didn't know where to start, how to fully articulate the mix of emotions swirling inside her, but a thank you seemed like the least she could offer.

Milo's calm voice came through on the other end. "You don't have to thank me, Fayne. I'm just here to listen."

She hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I think… you've given me the insight I needed. I still need some time to figure all of this out properly, but… I think I understand it a bit better now."

Milo's tone was warm, supportive. "Take all the time you need. It's not something you have to figure out overnight. Just… don't be too hard on yourself, okay? It's okay to be confused. It's okay to not have it all figured out yet."

Fayne nodded, even though Milo couldn't see it. "Yeah… I'll try."

For the first time in a while, she felt like she could breathe a little easier. It wasn't a perfect resolution, but it was a step forward, and for now, that was enough.

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When the call ended, Milo leaned back in his chair, letting out a thoughtful sigh. Fayne's words had sparked something in him—reflections he hadn't expected to have. Apparently, there were far more layers to "attraction" than he'd initially realized. It wasn't just about being attracted to the same or opposite gender; it was more nuanced than that. Attraction itself seemed to exist on a spectrum, with possibilities he hadn't given much thought to before.

He found himself thinking back to the couples he'd seen in public—holding hands, hugging, sometimes sharing a quick kiss. It had always struck him as "typical couple stuff," just another display of affection. But maybe there was more to it than that. A significant other wasn't just someone you were physically affectionate with. They were supposed to be your best friend too, right? Someone you could confide in, someone who saw both the good and bad in you and still accepted you for who you are. That was genuine… love, wasn't it?

But Fayne's situation seemed different. A "crush," as in her case, wasn't necessarily about love—or even a deep connection. It was about intrigue, curiosity, the allure of something or someone that felt out of reach. She wasn't drawn to Sable or Agnes for who they were as people, at least not entirely. It was the enigma behind them that fascinated her. Sable's daring confidence, Agnes's graceful elegance—those were the things that captured her attention, not necessarily their true, real selves.

Milo exhaled, resting his chin in his hand as his thoughts lingered. Love, attraction, connection—it was all so much more complex than he'd ever realized. And while he didn't have all the answers himself, Fayne's vulnerability in opening up to him made him feel… grateful, in a way. She trusted him enough to share something so personal, and that trust was something he didn't take lightly.

For now, though, he decided to let his reflections settle. There was plenty to think about, but like he told Fayne, not everything needed to be figured out all at once.

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Being in new surroundings again—a new school, a new town, a new chapter in her life—it was becoming routine for Sable. The move hadn't taken her far from NeonSpire, just a few hours away, but the distance still felt significant. It always did. Once again, she was starting over, unsure of how long this chapter would last.

As usual, her dad had handled everything. He contacted the school and arranged for her education to proceed through online assignments and tests. It was nothing new—this was how it had always been. Sable had grown used to the cycle: move abruptly, adapt quickly, and adjust to the ever-changing environments. Once, she'd even moved in the middle of a school term, but her dad always managed to find workarounds that the teachers reluctantly agreed to.

This city—Orchard Hollow—was a stark contrast to the vibrant, electric streets of NeonSpire. Smaller, quieter, and significantly less alive, it felt almost suffocating in its dullness. As Sable roamed the streets, she couldn't help but compare the two.

NeonSpire had been bustling, filled with bright lights, towering skyscrapers, and streets buzzing with activity at all hours of the day. There was always something to do, somewhere to be, or something to see. In comparison, Orchard Hollow felt... lifeless. The streets were lined with small, muted shops, their windows displaying modest, uninspired merchandise. The buildings were shorter, older, and lacked the futuristic charm of NeonSpire's architecture. Even the people seemed different—more reserved, quieter, and far fewer in number. Sable found herself wandering aimlessly, searching for something to capture her interest, but finding nothing.

The new school—Woodcrest Academy—only added to her frustrations. It was stricter, more rigid than Lumina Academy. The freedom she'd enjoyed back there, the ability to bend the rules and get away with it, was nowhere to be found here. Woodcrest felt stifling. Teachers seemed to be everywhere, their watchful eyes making it nearly impossible to slip by unnoticed.

And the uniform. Brown and white, with its overly proper and formal design, it couldn't have been more different from the casual flexibility she'd had before. Sable hated it. She'd tried to add her own flair—rolling up the sleeves, loosening the tie, adjusting the fit—but it hadn't gone unnoticed. The teachers here were quick to reprimand her, their stern voices reminding her of the academy's "standards."

So, she resorted to subtle changes. Things she could hide. A bracelet tucked under the sleeve, a pin fastened discreetly to the inner lining of her blazer. Small acts of rebellion, but they were hers, and they made her feel like she hadn't completely lost herself.

But the environment still sucked. Everything about this place felt... dull, restrained, and lifeless. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the energy of NeonSpire, the friends she'd left behind, and the freedom she once had.

Even the streets here were different—more patrolled, more orderly, and less alive. The increased security resulted in fewer crimes being committed, but it also meant Sable found it harder to sneak out at night. There weren't many alleys, hidden corners, or crannies to disappear into. There was nothing to discover, no spaces to make her own. The blank walls taunted her, untouched, with no possibility of painting them and slipping away unnoticed. Her bottles of spray paint sat untouched in her new room, a silent reminder of the freedom she no longer had.

The move itself had been swift and efficient, just like every other time. Her dad had hired a moving company, and considering they always rented apartments and lived modestly, there wasn't much to pack. Sable had learned not to collect unnecessary things—it made moving easier.

Her new room wasn't much different from her old one. A new angle, a slightly different layout. Instead of living in a two-floor apartment, they were now in a single-story one. She now lived on the bottom floor, and the view from her window was… uninspiring. A small garden stretched beneath her, neatly maintained but devoid of personality. Across from her window was another apartment building, another window, and another set of curtains.

Her gaming station was set up in its usual spot, her bass hung neatly on the wall, and a small shelf held a few scattered possessions. It wasn't much, but it was all she needed. Her possessions were as minimal as her presence was fleeting. Attachment. She hated the word.

Sable lay back on her bedspread, staring at the blank ceiling before pulling out her phone. Absentmindedly, she scrolled through her gallery. Most of it was empty, but the few photos she had saved from her time in NeonSpire caught her attention.

The last photo they'd taken together came up on the screen—the group huddled together under the golden glow of the autumn illumination. Raxian, Fayne, Milo, Raze, Leah, Mira... all of them smiling, all of them unaware that it was their last moment together.

Her thumb hovered over the delete button. Should she? Should she just erase the photos and pretend none of it had ever happened? It was easier that way. Easier to stay disconnected, unattached.

But as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn't deny how much she missed them. It had been years since she felt any semblance of belonging, any glimmer of connection. NeonSpire had been the first place in… she didn't even know how long, where she'd started to feel something she hadn't dared hope for.

Home.

The word rose in her mind unbidden, and she quickly shut her phone off, tossing it to the side. She refused to dwell on it.

Not now.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That Friday, the group gathered at a bowling hall. Everyone had shown up—except for her. Fayne felt a small wave of relief, hoping it would stay that way. She wasn't ready to face Agnes, not yet.

Jake, the one who had organized the outing and usually the loudest voice in the room, seemed unusually patient, almost subdued. It was odd. Jake was always the one to call the shots, to engage the group first. But tonight, he seemed content to linger, waiting. Ethan's eyes stayed fixed on him, his suspicion brewing. What is he planning?

Then, at last, she showed up.

"Sorry for being late, everyone," Agnes said as she approached, holding an umbrella that dripped with the rain still falling outside. Her voice carried the same apologetic warmth that Fayne remembered so well.

But she wasn't alone.

Unannounced to everyone, Agnes had brought a plus one—Paul.

At first, Ethan's emotions had been mixed: excitement that Agnes had arrived, weariness about Jake's intentions, and an underlying suspense about what this gathering was really about. But the moment he saw Paul, his heart sank.

Agnes smiled politely at everyone, her presence lighting up the atmosphere in a way that only she seemed capable of. But Ethan barely managed a half-hearted greeting before turning away and heading inside with the others. His mood darkened with every step, and the sight of Paul only made it worse.

Fayne, meanwhile, stood frozen when she laid eyes on Agnes. She didn't know how to feel. There was a hesitation in Agnes's eyes too, a slight pause in her movements. But when Agnes finally smiled at her, the weight of Fayne's guilt hit her like a tidal wave. She quickly stuck close to Leah and Mira, avoiding Agnes entirely.

As the group moved inside, Jake spoke up, his voice breaking through the tension. "Alright, I've booked two lanes since we can have ten players on each side. So, how are we splitting up?"

Before anyone could suggest anything, Tess spoke up, her tone determined. "Come on, girls, let's show the guys how it's done."

Her words carried an edge, no doubt stemming from the recent heated argument she'd had with Marcus.

"Oh yeah?" Marcus chimed in, grinning as he leaned casually against one of the ball racks. "Guys, we better step up."

Jake clapped his hands together, grinning. "Girls versus guys, huh? I like it. Let's go."

The teams formed quickly, the girls against the guys:

Girls: Fayne, Mira, Leah, Agnes, Ava, TessGuys: Raxian, Paul, Ethan, Marcus, Jake, Logan, Bryce

Fayne stood next to Leah and Mira as the teams gathered at their respective lanes. She couldn't bring herself to look in Agnes's direction. Her chest tightened with every passing second, the guilt eating at her.

Meanwhile, Ethan stole a glance at Agnes and Paul, his jaw tightening. The sight of Paul standing next to her, effortlessly charming and composed, was like a knife twisting in his chest. He grabbed a bowling ball, gripping it tightly as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

The game had barely started, but the air was already thick with unspoken tensions.

--------------------------------

The game started off with an intensity that no one had quite expected. Tess was determined to be the first striker for the girls' team, which they had proudly dubbed The Spare Queens. On the other side, Marcus stepped up as the first striker for the guys, who had decided on the name Pinfall Kings.

The tension between Tess and Marcus was impossible to ignore. Both seemed laser-focused, as if this was more than just a casual game of bowling.

Tess stepped up first, her confidence on full display as she picked her ball and approached the lane. She took a deep breath, swung back, and released. The ball sped down the lane, colliding with the pins in a clean, satisfying crash.

"Strike!" Mira cheered, her voice echoing across the alley.

Even Tess looked momentarily surprised, her eyebrows raising slightly. But she quickly composed herself, shrugging it off like it was all part of the plan. "What can I say? I've got skills," she said nonchalantly, tossing her pink hair over her shoulder as she walked back to her seat.

The Spare Queens erupted into cheers. "Nicely done, Tess!" Leah exclaimed, high-fiving her as she sat down. She even earned applauses from the Pinfall Kings.

Marcus's jaw tightened as he stepped up to the lane. His competitive streak was already kicking in, and he wasn't about to let Tess show him up. He grabbed his ball and took his position. The ball rolled with precision, knocking down most of the pins—but not all.

"Not bad," Logan said, trying to sound encouraging.

Marcus frowned, clearly unsatisfied. He adjusted his stance for his second throw, but even with the perfect angle, the remaining pins refused to fall. His expression darkened as he walked back to his seat, muttering under his breath.

"Beginner's luck!" Marcus blurted out, glaring at Tess as he sat on the waiting couch. His shoulders slumped slightly, and for a moment, he even seemed to be sulking.

"Oh, come on," Tess said with a sly grin. "Don't tell me you're already giving up, Marcus."

"Also," Marcus added sharply, addressing his team, "who are you guys rooting for, huh? They're on the enemy team! Get your heads in the game!"

Bryce rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. "Chill, dude," he muttered.

Raxian shook his head in silent agreement, his attention more on the game than Marcus's outburst.

"Hey, calm down. It's just a game, you know," Paul chimed in, trying to defuse the tension.

But Marcus stayed salty for a while, arms crossed as he stared at the scoreboard, muttering something about how "the pins were rigged."

Meanwhile, The Spare Queens exchanged amused glances. Tess leaned closer to Ava and whispered, "Guess I'm living rent-free in his head already."

-------------

Of course, Paul would be "the voice of reason." It didn't matter what Paul did—no matter what, it always got under Ethan's skin. Ethan shot a glare at him, then at Jake, as it came time for his turn to bowl.

Jake, oddly enough, had been unusually quiet all evening. Ethan noticed him glancing over at the girls' side more than he was paying attention to the game. What's Jake's deal? Ethan wondered. How does he know Agnes? And then there was the fact that Agnes had invited Paul as her plus one, and everyone just accepted it like it was no big deal. Paul wasn't even part of their group! But no one questioned it—not Jake, not Raxian, not anyone.

These thoughts buzzed incessantly in Ethan's head, each one eating at him more than the last.

On the girls' side, Agnes was watching Ethan intently. She was curious to see how he'd fare. She remembered how good he was at archery—practically a sharpshooter, his arrows hitting every target effortlessly. The question was: did Ethan have more than one "aiming talent"?

Paul's gaze wandered over as well. Agnes had mentioned Ethan's archery skills to him before, casually praising how precise he was. Paul leaned slightly to the side, arms crossed, his expression calm but observant. He couldn't help but wonder, Was aiming with a bowling ball so different from aiming with a bow?

Ethan stepped up to the lane, the weight of their eyes on him making it impossible to concentrate. He adjusted his grip on the ball, but his frustration boiled beneath the surface. The swirling thoughts about Agnes, Jake, Paul, even Fayne...—it was too much.

The ball slipped from his hands.

It rolled awkwardly down the lane, veering to the side before crashing into the gutter. Ethan grimaced, his jaw tightening as he turned away from the lane.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Paul exchanging a glance with Agnes, her lips twitching into a small, sympathetic smile.

"It happens to the best of us," Paul said, his voice calm and even, as if he was offering reassurance. But to Ethan, it felt like a quiet reminder of his own failure.

Jake, however, chuckled from the sidelines, finally breaking his silence. "Tough luck, man," he said, grinning as if he'd been waiting for a moment like this.

Ethan's fists clenched at his sides, his irritation barely contained. He muttered something under his breath as he walked back to his seat, avoiding everyone's gaze.

Meanwhile, Agnes turned her attention back to the girls' side, but not before sneaking another glance at Ethan. Something about his reaction left her wondering if there was more to his frustration than just a bad shot.

-----------------------------------

The group decided to take a break after the first round of points had been calculated. They gathered near the vending machines and snack counter, chatting and laughing as they grabbed drinks and snacks. Jake leaned casually against one of the counters, looking unbothered as if he hadn't just been quietly glancing over at the girls' side the entire first round.

Despite Tess's impressive strike at the start, her so-called "beginner's luck" didn't last long. It quickly became clear that the real stars of the game were Ava, representing the Spare Queens, and Logan, who proved to be surprisingly skilled on the Pinfall Kings. Both consistently knocked down pins with ease, pulling ahead of the rest of their teams and setting the tone for the competition.

Jake had booked the lanes for three hours, which had everyone wondering how he'd pulled it off. It wasn't like he had a part-time job—Ethan was sure of that. Jake didn't exactly seem like the type to spend his weekends working a shift somewhere.

But then again, his family, while comfortably middle class, wasn't exactly struggling. Maybe he'd convinced his parents to chip in. Knowing Jake, it wasn't far-fetched. For all his yapping and impulsiveness, Jake had a way with people. He could talk his way into—or out of—just about anything when it really mattered.

"Three hours, huh?" Bryce said, nudging Jake with his elbow. "Did you rob a bank or something, or did your parents sponsor tonight's event?"

Jake smirked, shrugging as if it was no big deal. "Let's just say I'm good at making things happen. You guys are welcome, by the way."

"Uh-huh," Bryce said with a grin, shaking his head.

Raxian leaned back against a nearby table, sipping on a soda as he watched the group interact. He had to admit, for all of Jake's flaws, he did have a knack for bringing everyone together—even if it sometimes came with chaos.

Meanwhile, Ethan sat a little further off to the side, still brooding about the first round. His eyes flicked toward Agnes and Paul, who were chatting quietly near the girls' table. The way Agnes smiled at Paul made his chest tighten, but he quickly looked away before anyone could catch him staring.

Jake, uncharacteristically observant, seemed to pick up on Ethan's mood but didn't say anything—for now.

----------------------

Fayne tried to stay as discreet as possible, sticking close to Leah and Mira like a shadow. Both of them noticed it—the way Fayne seemed to go out of her way to avoid Agnes. It wasn't subtle, and the tension was becoming hard to ignore.

Ethan observed quietly from a distance, his gaze flicking between Fayne and Agnes. It didn't take long for him to piece together what was happening. Whenever Agnes tried to talk to Fayne, even in passing, Fayne would find a reason to look away or pretend she didn't hear. The avoidance was deliberate, and it wasn't just Ethan who noticed.

As the games resumed, it seemed the pressure had finally gotten to Fayne. She suddenly excused herself, claiming she needed to use the restroom. But instead of heading toward the bathrooms, she slipped outside, her pace quick and determined. She needed air, space—anything to escape the heaviness building inside her.

Raxian, who had been quietly observing from the side, noticed her slip away. He didn't say anything to the group, not wanting to draw attention, but something about Fayne's body language made him uneasy.

"I'm grabbing something from the vending machine real quick," Raxian said casually, waving over his shoulder as he left the group. No one questioned it.

Once out of sight, Raxian glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before heading toward the exit. He stepped outside into the cool night air, spotting Fayne standing a short distance away. She leaned against the wall of the building, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she stared blankly into the distance.

Raxian approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her. "Fayne," he called softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched slightly, turning her head to look at him. "Raxian? What are you doing out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, his tone light but his gaze searching. "Are you okay?"

Fayne hesitated, her fingers gripping the fabric of her sleeves. She looked like she was about to say something but stopped herself, glancing away instead.

Raxian might not have been fully aware of the conflict involving Agnes—he didn't even know who these two unannounced additions to their outing were. Agnes and Paul had shown up without much explanation, and while the others didn't seem to question it, Raxian couldn't help but feel like he'd missed a crucial piece of the puzzle.

What he did know, however, was that it was clearly bothering Fayne. She had been avoiding Agnes all evening, clinging to Leah and Mira like a lifeline, and now she had disappeared entirely. Something wasn't right.

And then there was Jake. Raxian had noticed how unusually quiet he'd been throughout the night—so unlike his usual loud and boisterous self. Jake had been throwing glances toward the girls' side of the track a little too often, his gaze lingering on Agnes, the unfamiliar face. It was subtle, but it hadn't escaped Raxian's notice. What's this all about? he wondered.

Jake was the one who had organized the outing, and now Raxian couldn't help but feel like there was more to his plan than just a friendly hangout. Why had Jake invited Agnes in the first place? And why had she brought Paul along, unannounced, as her plus-one?

Raxian didn't know what was going on, but one thing was clear: whatever it was, it had stirred something in Fayne, and it wasn't something she could handle right now.

"I know I haven't been there for you throughout the years," Raxian began, his voice steady but tinged with sincerity. He leaned slightly against the wall beside Fayne, giving her space but making it clear he wasn't going anywhere. "But… things have changed between us, haven't they? We're closer now. So, Fayne…"

He paused, choosing his next words carefully, his eyes meeting hers. "I might not be the best at this, but… tell me what's going on. It's obvious that Agnes showing up tonight is bothering you."

Raxian's tone was gentle, free of judgment, but also firm enough to let her know he wasn't going to let her brush this off.

Fayne looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled, though the tension in her voice betrayed her.

"Come on, Fayne," Raxian pressed, his expression softening. "I'm not blind. You've been avoiding her all night, and now you're out here in the cold. Whatever's going on, you don't have to deal with it alone. Just… talk to me."

"Why are… you insisting on this, Rax?" Fayne asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She kept her gaze fixed on the ground, her fingers twisting the fabric of her sleeve. "Why all of a sudden do you care so much?"

Raxian blinked, the question catching him off guard. He hadn't expected her to put it so bluntly. He leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he considered his answer.

"Because…" he began, his voice soft but steady. "Because I've realized how much I've taken for granted. For years, we didn't really talk, Fayne. We were just… part of the same circles, coexisting. But ever since Sable came into our lives—ever since everything started changing—it's like I finally saw you for who you are."

Fayne glanced at him, her expression unreadable but her eyes searching his.

"And now that we're actually friends," Raxian continued, his tone growing more earnest, "I can see when something's wrong. I might not have been there for you before, but I want to be now. So, yeah, I care. Maybe not in the way you're thinking, but… I care. And I don't want you to deal with this on your own."

Fayne swallowed hard, her emotions threatening to bubble over. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words felt stuck in her throat. Instead, she gave a small nod, her walls beginning to crack just slightly.

-------------

"So, this is where you went," a familiar voice interrupted.

Fayne didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Agnes's voice was unmistakable, carrying its usual warmth but now tinged with something more hesitant.

Agnes stopped a few steps away, her gaze shifting between Fayne and Raxian. "I see you have… company," she mumbled, her tone uncertain as she motioned slightly toward him.

Raxian, sensing the sudden tension in the air, glanced at Fayne one last time. Whatever was going on between the two of them, it was clear that this was something he wasn't meant to be part of.

"I was just leaving," he said, his voice calm but laced with understanding.

He stepped away, offering Agnes a polite nod as he passed by, but his eyes lingered on Fayne for just a moment longer. It was his silent way of saying, I'm here if you need me.

Once Raxian was gone, the silence between Fayne and Agnes hung heavy in the air. Fayne kept her eyes fixed on the ground, unsure of what to say—or if she should say anything at all.

"Sure is… a rainy day, huh?" Agnes said awkwardly, her attempt at small talk hanging in the air like the rainclouds above them.

Fayne stayed silent, her gaze fixed on the wet pavement. She didn't even acknowledge the comment, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets as if bracing against the weight of the moment.

Agnes shifted uncomfortably, the quiet stretching far too long for her liking. Finally, she let out a soft sigh, her voice lowering. "Hey… look… I've been letting it slide for a while now, but, Fayne—what's really going on?"

Fayne's shoulders stiffened, but she didn't look up.

"Have I done something?" Agnes continued, her voice tinged with both concern and frustration. "Did I say something? If I did, just tell me. Because this… this silence? This distance? I don't get it. And it's starting to feel like you're avoiding me."

Agnes's words hung heavy in the air, the vulnerability in her tone cutting through the tension. She looked at Fayne, her blue eyes searching for any kind of response, any crack in the wall Fayne had built between them.

But Fayne remained quiet, her chest tightening as guilt and uncertainty warred within her.

Agnes had gone out of her way to approach her, to bridge the growing distance, to sort things out—even though she had no idea what was really tugging at Fayne. The truth was, Agnes hadn't done anything wrong. It wasn't anything she had said or done. It was just… complicated.

Fayne let out a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper as she finally spoke. "I guess I've been feeling…" She paused, her throat tightening as she searched for the words. "…a little lost lately."

Agnes tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. "Lost?" she repeated gently, taking a cautious step closer. "What do you mean?"

Fayne hesitated, her fingers gripping the edges of her sleeves tightly. Her gaze remained fixed on the rain-soaked pavement, unable to meet Agnes's eyes. "It's not just one thing," she admitted softly. "It's… everything. Agnes…" Her voice faltered, her thoughts tangling as she questioned whether she should continue.

She swallowed hard, the words caught in her throat. "Can I…" Fayne began, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Could she really say it? Could she trust Agnes not to judge her, not to see her differently after this?

Finally, she took a shaky breath, her heart pounding. "Can I confess something to you?"

Her question hung in the air, fragile yet heavy, as if the weight of her emotions were resting entirely on Agnes's response.

Agnes blinked, taken aback for a moment. The uncertainty in Fayne's voice, the raw sincerity that laced her words—it wasn't something Agnes had expected. But no matter what it was, no matter what Fayne needed to say, Agnes told herself she could handle it.

She stepped closer, her expression softening, and gently placed a reassuring hand on Fayne's shoulder. Her touch was steady, grounding. When Fayne's eyes finally flicked upward, hesitant and vulnerable, Agnes caught her gaze and refused to look away.

"You can tell me, Fayne," she said softly, her voice unwavering. "I'm here. Whatever it is, I'm here."

---------------------------

When Fayne and Agnes returned inside, the shift in their dynamic was impossible to ignore. Their distance spoke louder than any words could. Agnes walked in first, her expression composed but quieter than usual, while Fayne trailed behind, her gaze fixed on the floor as though trying to blend into the background.

For the rest of the evening, it wasn't just Fayne avoiding Agnes—it seemed to go both ways. Agnes, who was usually warm and approachable, now kept her distance. The once natural flow of her interactions with Fayne felt forced, almost strained.

Leah and Mira exchanged subtle glances, both picking up on the tension but unsure whether to address it. Meanwhile, Ethan, who had been observing Fayne's behavior all evening, now turned his attention to Agnes. Something had changed, but no one knew exactly what had transpired between them outside.

Even Jake, whose usual enthusiasm kept the group energized, seemed to sense the unspoken rift. He glanced between the two girls, his curiosity piqued but his questions left unspoken—for now.

The rest of the group carried on with the game, the lively atmosphere slowly returning as Marcus finally got over his tension with Tess. Laughter and cheers filled the air, the friendly competition reigniting as everyone seemed to move past earlier frustrations.

But for Fayne and Agnes, the atmosphere felt entirely different. The unspoken distance between them hung heavily, an invisible shadow that neither could shake. While the others immersed themselves in the game, their unresolved emotions lingered, quietly pulling them further apart.

------------

Raxian, who had left Fayne with Agnes earlier, couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility. What had they talked about that had caused this growing distance between them? He'd noticed it the moment they came back inside—the way neither of them would look at the other, their movements stilted and awkward.

Maybe… he should have stayed back. Maybe he could have helped ease whatever tension had been brewing between them. Instead, he'd excused himself, thinking it was best to let them talk alone. Now, watching the quiet rift unfold, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made the wrong call.

His gaze flicked between Fayne and Agnes throughout the game, searching for some sign of resolution, but none came. Whatever had happened outside, it clearly wasn't over. And Raxian found himself silently wishing he'd done more.

------

"Alright, that's a wrap, folks!" Jake announced dramatically, clapping his hands together as the final scores were tallied. "And the winner with the most points is… Ava!"

The group broke into cheers and applause, though some were clearly more surprised than others. Ava had been quietly dominating all night, consistently knocking down pins with precision and ease.

Unbeknownst to most of them, Ava had been part of a bowling team years ago—a detail she'd conveniently kept to herself.

When Tess found out, her eyes widened with mock outrage. "Wait, what? You've been hustling us this whole time?" she exclaimed, half-laughing, half-incredulous.

Ava raised a hand, shaking her head quickly. "Shh, Tess, don't make a big deal out of it, okay?" she said with a sheepish smile, clearly not wanting the attention.

But Tess wasn't having it. "Oh, come on! You knew you had an advantage and just let us all think you were some casual player? That's so unfair!"

Ava laughed, holding her hands up defensively. "It's not like I'm still on the team or anything! It was years ago. I just… didn't think it was worth mentioning."

Tess narrowed her eyes at her playfully, but the teasing quickly dissolved into laughter as the group started packing up and settling their scores. Despite the revelation, Ava's quiet confidence throughout the night had left a lasting impression.

-----------------------

As the group began to head out, Jake's eyes caught sight of Agnes, sitting beside Paul while pulling on her shoes. She was chatting casually with Leah, her voice light and cheerful, but Jake's focus was unwavering. He approached her with a grin that carried an air of intent.

"Hey, Agnes," Jake said, his tone casual yet purposeful. "Mind hanging back for a bit? I wanted to talk to you about something."

Agnes blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, sure," she said, glancing at Paul. "You don't mind waiting outside for a moment, do you?"

Paul raised a brow but didn't question it. "Sure," he replied simply, standing and heading for the door.

Jake waited until Paul was out of earshot before turning his full attention back to Agnes. What he didn't notice, however, was Ethan lingering near the exit, his sharp gaze locked on Jake. Ethan's jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, his gut twisting with suspicion.

Jake had been acting strange all night, and now this? Encouraging Agnes to stay behind while Paul waited outside? It didn't sit right with him. As Jake and Agnes moved further away, Ethan hesitated for a moment before deciding to stay behind as well. Keeping his movements quiet, he positioned himself near enough to overhear their conversation without being seen.

From where he stood, Ethan could hear Jake's voice drop slightly, the usual teasing edge replaced with something more sincere.

"Thanks for sticking around," Jake said, scratching the back of his neck. "I know it's kind of random, but… I've been meaning to say something. Ever since I found out you were coming tonight, I just…"

Ethan strained to hear, his curiosity burning as his imagination raced. What is Jake up to?

"You and Fayne are pretty close, right?" Jake began, his tone casual but laced with curiosity. He leaned slightly against the wall, watching Agnes's reaction. "Mira and Leah have mentioned it before. Seems like your relationship's been a bit… rocky lately, though. Hasn't it?"

Agnes blinked, caught off guard by the question. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously, her voice steady but uncertain.

Jake tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "I mean, I saw you head outside earlier to check on her. That was a nice thing to do. But then you came back in and…" He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You've been keeping your distance from her ever since."

Agnes shifted uncomfortably, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag. "I don't see how that's any of your business," she replied, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Jake smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. "Come on, Agnes. You don't have to be so defensive. I'm just curious. What exactly did she tell you out there? Something must've happened for the two of you to be so… off."

His words hung in the air, the weight of his curiosity pressing on her. Agnes hesitated, her mind racing. She hadn't expected this conversation, and Jake's pointed questions made her feel cornered.

Jake's smirk faded, his tone shifting as he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Let me give it to you straight, Agnes," he said, his words sharper now. "I know Fayne's secret."

Agnes froze, her eyes widening slightly. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jake's gaze didn't waver, his expression cool and calculating. "Don't play dumb. I'm not here to make a scene or anything. But if you care about Fayne—if you want to protect her feelings—you better cooperate with me."

Agnes's heart raced, a mix of confusion and unease swirling in her chest. "Cooperate?" she repeated, her tone wary. "What do you mean?"

Jake straightened up, the faintest trace of a grin returning to his face. "Relax, I'm not here to ruin anyone's life. I just think it's time we're all on the same page. Fayne's been holding onto something, and it's eating her up. Don't you think it's better if she doesn't have to deal with it alone?"

Agnes stared at him, unsure of his true intentions. Her grip on her bag tightened as she tried to process his words. What was Jake really after?

--------------------------------------------------

What was Jake really after?

The thought gnawed at Ethan as he leaned against the wall just out of sight, straining to hear their conversation. His heart pounded with every word he caught. "Knowing her secret"? What was that supposed to mean?

Ethan clenched his fists, his mind racing. He'd suspected something was off with Jake all evening, but this? This felt like a whole new level. Jake wasn't just being nosy or teasing like usual—his tone was different. Calculated. Almost… threatening.

What was this? Some kind of drama unfolding before his eyes? A "friend" turning into some kind of "twist villain"? The idea made Ethan's stomach churn. Jake, for all his quirks and flaws, had always been the one to bring people together, to make things fun. But now? This wasn't fun. This was something else entirely.

Ethan's jaw tightened as he listened, his mind bouncing between anger and confusion. He didn't know what Jake's game was, but one thing was clear—whatever secret Jake thought he knew, he was using it to corner Agnes. And that didn't sit right with Ethan. Not at all.

He debated stepping in, calling Jake out right then and there. But something stopped him. Not yet, he told himself. He needed to hear more, to figure out what Jake's true intentions were before he acted.

For now, Ethan stayed where he was, watching, waiting, and trying to piece together the puzzle forming in front of him.

--------------------------

"Hey, Fayne, wait up!" Raxian called, jogging slightly to catch up with her. Leah and Mira were walking a few steps ahead, their chatter fading into the background as he fell in line beside Fayne.

At first, he didn't know what to say. The guilt from their earlier interaction still weighed on him, nagging at the back of his mind. He just wanted to check on her, to make sure she was okay.

But Fayne didn't respond. Her gaze stayed fixed on the pavement ahead, distant and unfocused, as if she hadn't even heard him—or worse, hadn't even recognized him.

Raxian frowned, stealing a glance at her. "Fayne?" he asked softly, his voice cautious.

She blinked but didn't turn to look at him. Her steps didn't falter, her expression remained unreadable.

Raxian's chest tightened, the silence stretching between them. He didn't want to push her, but the worry bubbling inside him refused to settle. He decided to try again, his tone softer this time.

"I just wanted to check in," he said, his words hesitant but sincere. "You seemed… off earlier. Are you okay?"

Fayne's lips pressed into a thin line, her shoulders tensing slightly at his words. For a moment, Raxian thought she might respond, but then she stayed silent, her focus still locked on the path ahead.

The quiet between them was heavy, but Raxian didn't press further. Instead, he stayed beside her, hoping his presence alone might offer some comfort, even if she wasn't ready to talk.