Chapter 7

FRIENDS GETAWAY

"Okay, bags in the back, beauty in the front!" Brice declared dramatically as he tossed his neon pink duffel into the trunk of Matt's jet-black SUV. "Shotgun's mine!"

"You wish!" Zeke snapped, already halfway in the front seat with a protein bar in his mouth. "I called dibs two nights ago."

"You were drunk and talking to a lamp," Brice argued.

"Still counts."

Meanwhile, I stood at the curb, adjusting my bucket hat and oversized shades like a diva incognito. Matt popped open the trunk for me, casually brushing past me as he loaded his own bag. I could smell his cologne — musky, expensive, and low-key unfair.

"You good?" he asked, looking at me with that subtle smile that always made my brain lag a little.

"Yeah. Just... bracing myself for five hours with these lunatics," I replied, nodding toward our friends already yelling about seat assignments like it was the Olympics.

"Better get in then," Matt said, holding the door open for me like the gentleman he pretends he's not.

I climbed into the middle row, Brice and Luther on either side of me like chaotic seatbelt-wearing gargoyles. Matt slid into the driver's seat, Ciandrei beside him, acting like a responsible DJ, while Jake and Zeke took the third row, already playing rock-paper-scissors for the AUX cord.

As we pulled out of the driveway, windows down and sun blazing, Ciandrei finally found the perfect playlist and blasted Watermelon Sugar loud enough for the world to hear.

"ROADTRIP BABY!" Luther screamed from the backseat.

Brice was already swaying dramatically, turning the middle seat into a tiny dance floor. "Cue the chaos!"

Jake leaned over to Matt's seat, eyes playful. "We all live here rent-free, so don't crash the car. That's our entire future inside this vehicle."

Matt gave him a side-eye. "I've been driving since you were still trying to impress girls with yo-yos."

"Damn, not the childhood roast," Zeke muttered with a laugh.

I stayed quiet, smiling as the banter filled the car like static energy. But every now and then, I'd glance up — and catch Matt doing the same in the rearview mirror.

Every time our eyes met, it was quick. Fleeting. Like we weren't supposed to look but couldn't help it.

I leaned my head against the window, hiding my grin as I watched the palm trees whip past. Maya Bay was still hours away, but the ride already felt electric.

About halfway through, Brice suddenly turned to me. "Nate. Truth or dare."

"We're not playing—"

"TRUTH OR DARE," he said again, louder and already tipsy on iced coffee and spite.

"Truth," I said hesitantly.

Brice grinned. "Have you ever had a crush on someone in this car?"

Everyone went ooooohhh in unison like they were fifth graders at a sleepover.

I groaned and covered my face. "I hate you all."

"That's not a no," Zeke pointed out.

Jake leaned forward. "Define crush. Like romantic, or... like weird admiration from afar?"

Ciandrei cackled. "Jake, that's suspiciously specific."

Matt said nothing, but I could feel his glance in the rearview mirror again. This time I didn't look away.

"Fine," I muttered. "Yes. Happy now?"

Brice smacked my arm. "Knew it. I'm an empath."

"Okay, okay, my turn!" Zeke shouted. "Matt. Truth or dare?"

Matt raised an eyebrow but kept driving. "Dare."

"Pull over at the next convenience store and buy us snacks," Zeke smirked. "But you have to wear Brice's sparkly sunglasses."

"No way!" Matt protested.

"I dare you," Zeke grinned.

Matt sighed and pulled over, slipping on Brice's ridiculous rhinestone sunglasses like he was on a runway in Milan. We all laughed so hard we couldn't breathe, especially when he walked into the store like a rockstar with a mission.

When he came back with chips, soda, and lollipops — still wearing the shades — I couldn't stop smiling.

"You're ridiculous," I told him when he handed me a drink.

"You like it," he shot back, brushing our fingers for half a second too long.

I did.

We drove again, this time as the sun started dipping low. Windows down, wind in our hair, Classic by MKTO blaring through the speakers.

Matt looked back at me again, just for a moment.

And I looked back.

We didn't say anything.

But I swear, in that golden hour glow and chaos of our friends singing off-key... it felt like something was starting.

Not just a trip.

Something real.

Even if neither of us was ready to name it yet.

We finally arrived at Maya Bay just before sunset.

The SUV pulled up in front of the private resort, nestled between limestone cliffs and impossibly blue waters. The salty air mixed with the laughter and exhaustion inside the car as we all tumbled out like kids on a school field trip—except with more glitter, sarcasm, and emotional baggage.

Brice was the first to do a dramatic twirl. "Hello, paradise! You better be worth the sunburn."

A smiling staff member greeted us by the entrance holding a clipboard and a fancy envelope. "Welcome! You must be the raffle winners from Uncle Jay's Bar?"

"That's us," Luther chimed in, sunglasses still on even though the sun was half gone.

"We've prepared your complimentary package—activities, meals, and accommodation. Congratulations again!"

"Ohhh free things," Zeke said with a grin. "Now we're talking."

She handed us a packet detailing all the perks: complimentary kayak session, sunrise breakfast by the beach, and some ridiculous "honeymoon spa" option we all tried to pretend we didn't see.

"And as for your rooms," the staff continued. "You have two: one deluxe group suite for six, and one oceanfront villa good for two."

There was a sudden silence.

Jake cleared his throat dramatically. "Hmm. Now, who could possibly use the romantic room for two?"

"Nope. Don't even start," I said immediately, raising my hands in defense.

"Too late," Brice sang, slinging an arm around Matt's shoulders. "I mean, you guys did win the couple game. Feels... prophetic."

Matt blinked. "The what now?"

"The universe has spoken," Luther added, nodding like some mystical monk. "Let fake love live."

Matt looked at me. I looked at him. We both looked at the ocean like it might swallow us whole.

Jake clapped loudly. "Alright, it's settled. Nate and Matt, you two take the love shack. The rest of us will stay in the party suite."

"No one said anything about a love shack," I muttered, but the staff was already handing Matt the keycard to the "Villa Sol."

Matt gave me a side-eye. "You in?"

"Do I have a choice?"

He shrugged. "We could sleep in the sand."

Brice patted my back. "Oh honey, he's already in your heart. What's a room?"

I nearly threw a flip-flop at him.

Matt and I walked awkwardly down the path toward our villa while our so-called friends trailed behind us, whispering like kids who just shipped their teachers.

The villa was... stunning. Glass walls. Minimalist design. And the bed?

One. Big. King. Size. Bed.

I turned to Matt. "We can do rock-paper-scissors for the floor."

He shrugged, tossing his bag onto the couch. "We've survived a pretend relationship and multiple public appearances. A bed won't kill us."

"Unless one of us snores like a lawnmower," I said, grabbing a towel and pretending not to care that my ears were burning.

He flopped back on the bed with a sigh, hands behind his head. "Well, if I die in my sleep, tell Jake he owes me 500 bucks."

I rolled my eyes, then peeked through the window. The ocean glimmered, and our friends were already unpacking in the suite across the path, probably planning the next round of sabotage and teasing.

I took a deep breath.

Maybe this fake trip was turning a little too real.

And maybe... I didn't hate it.

_______

There's something about bonfires that make people soft.

Maybe it's the way the flames dance like memories you almost forgot. Or the way the ocean hums a lullaby just loud enough to remind you that life doesn't always have to be this complicated.

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a sky splattered with stars. We gathered in a circle near the shoreline, toes dug into the warm sand, the scent of toasted marshmallows and grilled hotdogs lingering in the air. Luther was already strumming on a guitar, playing off-key versions of 2000s pop hits. Zeke sat beside him, flicking sand at anyone who tried to sing with too much vibrato.

Brice was poking at the fire with a stick, pretending it was a magic wand.

"I swear, if you summon another ex from the flames, I'm running," Jake warned him.

"No promises," Brice smirked.

Matt was beside me, knees drawn up, hoodie sleeves covering his hands as he stared into the fire. We weren't touching, but our shoulders were so close they almost hummed. The crackle of the fire synced with the unspoken tension between us—warm, steady, and growing.

Ciandrei clapped his hands, jolting everyone. "Alright, confession time!"

"Oh no," I groaned. "This is how friendships break."

"Relax, it's just a chill one," Ciandrei grinned. "Let's ask something non-damaging. Like... Matt."

Matt looked up, blinking like a deer caught in fairy lights. "What?"

"Did you ever finish that song you were working on? The one you were stressing about?" Jake leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully.

The group turned quiet, all eyes shifting to Matt.

Matt exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Yeah. I finished it."

A small wave of applause erupted, and someone tossed a marshmallow at him in celebration.

"What changed?" Jake asked. "I thought you were stuck for weeks."

Matt paused, looking down for a second. Then, with a lopsided smile, he glanced at me—and held the gaze.

"I found inspiration."

The flames flickered between us, casting orange shadows on his face. My breath hitched just a little. I knew he wasn't saying everything. But I felt it.

Brice immediately ruined the moment, of course.

"Wait—who inspired it?" he asked, already half-leaning across the sand. "Is this a coded love song or should we expect a banger about heartbreak and revenge?"

"It's more... in between," Matt said, shrugging. "A song about something unexpected. Like pretending, and then accidentally feeling things you're not supposed to feel."

My cheeks warmed faster than the fire.

Jake whistled. "Oooh. That's oddly specific."

"I'm gonna cry," Ciandrei muttered, dramatically throwing a marshmallow in the fire. "Why is fake dating more romantic than my real dating life?"

Matt chuckled, eyes never leaving mine.

"Wanna sing it?" Luther offered him the guitar.

Matt took it, adjusted the strap, and gave a sheepish smile. "Nah, not tonight. Still polishing a few parts. But soon."

Everyone groaned in protest, but let it go.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of laughter, silly dares, and too many s'mores. Zeke and Luther ended up dancing around the fire like tribal spirits. Brice tried (and failed) to balance two beer bottles on his head. Jake kept stealing everyone's snacks and blaming "ghosts."

And through it all, Matt and I kept exchanging glances like something was slowly—surely—blooming between us.

By the time the fire dimmed and we all headed back to our rooms, I found myself walking a little closer to him. Shoulder to shoulder. Wordless.

And when he looked at me again, his eyes said the one thing his song hadn't yet.

You're my inspiration.

_______

Our room was smaller than the big one the others got, but it had a charm. There was a warm yellow lamp, clean white sheets, and a faint lemony scent that made it feel like a spa commercial.

I shut the door behind me and immediately felt the awkward tension roll in like ocean fog. Matt was already standing by the window, arms crossed, looking at the moon like it offended him personally.

"So..." I started, flopping face-first onto the bed. "This is happening."

"Yup." He didn't turn.

"I can sleep on the floor if you're scared of catching feelings."

That made him laugh. A small one, but it counted. "Relax, superstar. I'll take the floor. My feelings are fully vaccinated."

"Liar," I muttered, grinning as he pulled a blanket and some pillows to the floor beside the bed. He turned off the lights except for the bedside lamp, leaving the room in a soft glow. Then he settled onto the floor like a grumpy cat who pretended he wanted to be uncomfortable.

For a while, there was just the sound of the ceiling fan, waves from outside, and the occasional cough from Zeke in the next villa.

I stared at the ceiling, wide awake. And apparently... so was Matt.

"You awake?" I whispered.

"No, I'm having a very loud dream."

I snorted. "Cool. Can I borrow your dream? Mine's just me getting chased by angry Twitter fans."

He chuckled faintly. "Can't relate."

Another beat of silence.

"...Can I ask something?" I said, voice smaller.

He didn't answer at first. But then, softly, "Shoot."

"Earlier. You mentioned your song was about pretending, then accidentally feeling things you're not supposed to. Was that about... Nathan?"

I heard the shift of his body against the floor, like he was turning over to face the ceiling too.

"I thought it was," he admitted. "At first. I started writing it right after our breakup, hoping I'd figure out why it ended. Or... if it could be fixed."

"And now?"

"I think I was writing about someone else the whole time."

I bit my lip, unsure how to process that.

The silence stretched again, comfortable this time. Not stiff or awkward. Just two people trying to make sense of everything in the dark.

"Was he good to you?" I finally asked.

Matt sighed. "He was. In his own way. We just... started becoming different people. And I held on too long, thinking I could force us to stay who we used to be."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me.

"I guess that's why I didn't want this whole fake thing with you at first," he continued. "Didn't want to pretend again. But then... you started being real. Even when we were faking it."

I turned to the side, now staring at the edge of the bed closest to him. "You saying I'm inspiring again?"

He scoffed. "I'm saying you're annoying. But yes, also that."

I laughed, then reached over and let my hand dangle off the bed.

"Hey," I whispered. "Just in case I kick you in the face while sleeping, it's unintentional."

"Duly noted," he whispered back. "And just in case I pull the blanket from you, it's definitely intentional."

"Jerk."

"Princess."

We both laughed.

And for the first time in a while, I wasn't worried about what was real or fake.

Just this moment.

Just him and me, in a villa by the sea, talking like the world outside didn't matter.

__________

The morning air smelled like the kind of peace you can only find by the sea—fresh, warm, and a little salty. After a surprisingly good sleep (thanks to someone finally giving up the floor halfway through the night and sneaking into the bed without saying anything), we all met up at the beachside café for breakfast.

Matt was quietly munching on his toast, eyes hidden behind sunglasses that screamed I'm too cool for feelings, while Brice was already halfway through his third pancake and interrogating Zeke about whether he brought sunscreen that didn't smell like papaya.

"You're gonna smell like a fruit salad later," Brice teased, dabbing syrup off his lips.

"I'd rather smell like that than burnt trauma," Zeke replied, holding up SPF 100 like a weapon.

We all laughed.

Then Luther, sipping from a coconut like it was champagne, declared, "Beach day is officially in session, babies. Who's ready to kayak and scream into the void?"

Matt glanced at me, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. "You ever been on a kayak?"

"Does pedaling a stationary bike while panicking count?"

He chuckled, the kind of chuckle I was growing dangerously addicted to.

We paired up for the kayak session. Zeke and Luther were together, which was a mistake because five minutes in, they were already spinning in circles and yelling nautical insults at each other.

Ciandrei and Brice were like two overachieving parents on a family outing, rowing in perfect unison while bragging loudly to everyone that their "boat family" was better than ours.

That left Matt and me—naturally.

"Front or back?" he asked, holding two paddles like this was a life-or-death scenario.

I blinked. "Are we still talking about kayaking?"

He rolled his eyes. "Get in before I kayak alone."

We wobbled our way into the kayak, laughing and bumping shoulders like idiots. The ocean glittered under the sun, and the resort staff cheered us on from the shore like it was the Olympic finals.

"Alright, paddle left," Matt said as we pushed off.

I paddled right.

"LEFT!"

"I panicked!"

"You're gonna capsize us!"

"Maybe I want to be dramatically rescued!"

But somehow, we didn't flip. Instead, we floated smoothly out into the open water, sun on our backs, legs bumping occasionally. It was peaceful. Stupidly peaceful.

I glanced over and saw Matt smiling. Not at the ocean. Not at the sky.

At me.

I blinked. "What?"

"Nothing. Just..." He shrugged. "You look like you belong here."

I scoffed. "You're weirdly poetic for a guy who yells 'LEFT' like a military instructor."

He laughed. "Yeah, well... you bring that out in me."

My heart did a small, stupid somersault.

Behind us, Zeke shrieked, "LUTHER YOU'RE PADDLING LIKE A DRUNK CRAB!"

"I'M CREATING ART WITH MOVEMENT!"

Ciandrei and Brice passed us, yelling "SLOWPOKES!" before nearly crashing into a floating leaf and screaming like it was a jellyfish.

"You think they're okay?" I asked, looking back.

"I think if they don't die, they'll date," Matt said with a shrug.

I laughed again. Then leaned my head slightly to rest against his shoulder. Just for a second.

He didn't pull away.

He didn't say anything.

But he paddled slower, letting us drift just a little longer in that perfect silence.

Eventually, we all returned to shore like sun-kissed messes, dripping with saltwater and pride. Luther claimed he "saw a sea ghost," Brice kept yelling that Zeke "almost made them a headline," and Ciandrei asked someone to film them for their fake travel vlog.

Matt handed me a towel. "You're not bad at this."

"You sound surprised."

"Let's just say I expected more screaming."

"Excuse you, I was very graceful in my panicking."

We laughed again, bodies warm from the sun and cheeks sore from smiling.

But just as we were heading back toward the resort path, drying off and rehashing the chaos—

Brice suddenly stopped. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Is that..."

My smile froze.

Matt turned too, his posture immediately stiffening.

And there—just a few meters away—walking casually with sunglasses, a linen shirt, and a smile that used to mean something to both of us...

Nathan Lim.

He hadn't seen us yet.

But I saw Matt's jaw tighten. His grip on the towel faltered just slightly.

"Oh no," Luther whispered behind me. "Why does this feel like a scene from Boys Over Flowers?"

Nathan finally looked our way.

And when our eyes met—his, then Matt's—it was like the air turned too sharp to breathe.

I swallowed hard.

So much for a peaceful beach getaway.

//