Chapter 8

HE'S BACK

We all returned to our beachfront cabana in a weird half-silence. It wasn't the good kind of silence either—the relaxing, waves-in-the-background, coconut-in-hand kind. No. This one felt sticky, tight, heavy with unspoken words.

I plopped down on the bamboo couch, towel wrapped around my waist, hair still damp and skin still salty—but none of that mattered now.

Because Nathan freaking Lim was here.

And I couldn't unsee the way Matt froze when he saw him. Couldn't ignore the shift in the air. The way Matt's smile—our inside-joke-smile—disappeared like a wave retreating from the shore.

Brice was the first to speak. Of course he was.

"Well, well, well... the plot thickens like expired milk."

Zeke, ever the cryptic poet, added, "Fate's funny like that. You go kayaking for fun and end up paddling straight into unresolved trauma."

Luther just sipped his mango shake and said, "I'm too pretty for this drama."

I let out a slow breath and stared at the wood grains of the table like they had the answers to life's most confusing questions.

"This was bound to happen," I muttered, mostly to myself. "Nathan showing up. He's not just Matt's ex... he's the reason Matt agreed to this fake thing with me in the first place."

Brice turned to me sharply. "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. He said it himself—he wants him back. That was the whole point."

"But that was before," Brice said, crossing his legs with dramatic flair. "Before the fake coffee dates. Before the breakfast room service. Before the kayak shoulder bumps and 'accidental' hand brushes. Maybe his feelings changed."

Zeke tilted his head. "He hasn't mentioned Nathan in weeks, has he?"

Luther nodded slowly. "Honestly, he only talks about what you like to eat and how you snore when you're sunburned."

"Do not expose me like that," I muttered.

Brice scooted closer. "Nate, listen. You like him."

"I—what? I do not—"

He raised a hand. "Nope. Save the denial for your next press conference. You like him. You like like him. So if you're spiraling because the ex-boyfriend rose from the ashes like a Filipino phoenix, maybe you need to—oh I don't know—talk to Matt?"

I fidgeted with the edge of my towel. "What if he doesn't feel the same? What if I'm just the stand-in?"

"What if you're not?" Zeke asked softly.

And that made me stop.

What if I wasn't?

I sat there for a few more seconds, heart doing this weird samba beat, until finally I stood up.

"Where are you going?" Brice asked, eyes glinting.

"To talk to him."

He clapped dramatically like a proud theater mom. "YES. Fight for your fake man! I mean—maybe-not-so-fake man!"

Zeke raised his coconut in salute. "Godspeed, lover boy."

Luther muttered, "Please make this worth the emotional investment I've put in your chaotic romance."

I took a deep breath, adjusted my towel-turned-sarong, and marched out of the cabana.

My brain was screaming don't do it but my heart was like we're already in too deep, bestie.

I didn't know exactly what I was going to say.

But I knew I had to say something.

Because the worst thing wasn't that Matt might still love Nathan...

It was that I might be falling for someone who made me feel like I wasn't second choice.

And that, terrifyingly, might be real.

_______

I leaned back on the lounge chair outside our villa, a coconut juice in hand that I wasn't drinking. The golden hour was casting dramatic shadows on the beach, but I couldn't even pretend to enjoy it.

Nathan Lim was here. In Maya Bay.

And for some reason, my heart was still in knots—just not for the reason I thought it would be.

Ciandrei was sitting across from me, flipping through his phone like the world wasn't crashing slowly inside my ribcage. Jake sat beside me, arms crossed, watching the tide like he was also watching me avoid my thoughts.

"So..." Ciandrei finally said, not even looking up. "He's here. You gonna talk to him?"

I blinked. "To who?"

"Matt," Jake groaned, "don't do that. You know who."

Ciandrei raised an eyebrow. "Nathan. Your great dramatic love, right? The one you supposedly made this fake relationship happen for."

I didn't answer. Just sipped the coconut juice that still didn't taste like anything.

Ciandrei went on, "I mean, isn't that what you wanted? You said this whole fake setup with Nate was to make Nathan realize what he lost. To get his attention. And now he's here. This is your chance."

Jake looked at me, silent for a second before he added softly, "But maybe... maybe it's not about Nathan anymore."

My heart thudded painfully.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, way too quickly.

Jake shrugged. "Just saying. You've changed, Matt. You smile more around Nate. You make excuses to be near him. You write about him in your stupid notebook. Hell, you let him eat your fries."

"That doesn't mean anything," I said, standing up suddenly. "This—this thing with Nate is fake. A script. A cover-up for a PR mess. That's all."

Ciandrei sat up straighter, his expression narrowing. "Is it, though? Are you lying to us... or to yourself?"

"I'm not lying," I snapped. "Nate and I—we're just playing roles. And once this vacation's done and the heat dies down, it's over. That's what we agreed on."

Jake tilted his head, skeptical. "So you're just gonna pretend nothing changed?"

"Nothing did change," I insisted. "He doesn't feel that way about me, okay? I'm not going to let myself get dragged into something that was never real to begin with."

I turned away, trying to ignore the way my chest suddenly felt tight. Like my own words were knives I threw and somehow managed to hit myself.

I didn't even notice the sound of soft footsteps retreating just beyond the villa's bamboo walls.

NATE'S POV

(Just Outside the Villa – Same Time)

I had been on my way to knock.

That's all I wanted to do. Knock. Ask Matt if we could talk. About Nathan. About us. About why I kept getting this stupid flutter in my stomach every time he looked at me.

But then I heard my name.

And I couldn't move.

I stood there frozen, behind the thin bamboo partition of the villa, as I listened to everything.

"You smile more around Nate... You write about him... But once this vacation's done, it's over... He doesn't feel that way about me..."

Each sentence was like a wave crashing over me, but not the refreshing kind. The kind that drags you down before you can take a breath.

He really thought it was fake.

All of it.

I wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or maybe both. I leaned against the wooden beam, eyes stinging with something I didn't want to name yet.

Of course he didn't know.

Of course he didn't realize how real this had started to feel for me.

The shared late-night conversations. The glances across bonfires. The way he held me when I was cold without even thinking. The way he looked at me when I was talking—even when I was saying dumb things.

I wanted to believe there was something more. That maybe, just maybe, he looked at me the same way I'd started looking at him.

But I was wrong.

I stood there for a moment longer, trying to breathe past the tightness in my throat.

Then I turned and walked away—slow, steady, like I hadn't just felt something inside me break a little.

The sunset blurred in my vision as I made my way back to the beach, alone.

And maybe that was the only thing real after all.

________

MATT'S POV

"Nate? Has anyone seen Nate?"

I was starting to panic—not in an obvious way, of course. Just in the way that my throat was tight, my palms were cold, and my brain wouldn't shut up. I had asked Zeke, Brice, and even Luther, but all I got were shrugs and vague hand gestures pointing toward nowhere.

Brice squinted at me, sipping his drink. "He was just here a while ago... I think? Maybe he went back to the villa?"

"He left his phone," Luther added. "So maybe not?"

I turned away before my worry turned into full-blown paranoia.

Was he okay? Did he leave?

Did I screw up that much?

I walked down the stretch of beach, shoes in hand, the sound of the waves and my thumping chest keeping a painful rhythm. I just needed to find him. Apologize. Say something—anything.

Instead, I saw someone else.

There, under a swaying palm, casually leaning against a post like he belonged in a fashion editorial, was Nathan Lim.

And he saw me first.

"Funny how I always find you on beaches," he said, voice like velvet over daggers.

I froze. "Nathan."

He smiled like we weren't complicated.

"You look lost, Matt," he said, stepping closer. "Let me guess. Looking for the boy everyone says you're in love with?"

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you want, Nathan?"

He chuckled. "Just a conversation."

I didn't move.

"I've been hearing things," Nathan continued, voice low. "Matt Reyes dating rising heartthrob Nate Rae Villanueva. It's the talk of the internet. Trending. So public."

He paused, studying my face.

"Is it true? Or just another one of your staged romances for damage control?"

I didn't answer. Because I didn't know anymore.

Nathan stepped closer. "You forget I know you, Matt. I know how you breathe when you lie. I know when you're performing and when you're really in pain. And this?" he gestured toward me, "this is the same face you had when you wrote that song about me. So tell me, is this boy just another role?"

My jaw clenched.

"Do you still love me?" Nathan asked.

The silence between us was so thick, it could've swallowed the ocean.

I was about to say something—maybe nothing good—but then my eyes caught movement near the beachfront bar.

Nate.

Drunk. Laughing. Swaying.

A guy—some stranger—leaning too close.

Nate's hand on his shoulder, lips only inches away.

They were about to kiss.

I didn't even think. I just moved.

The sand flew behind me as I rushed over, shoving through a small group of people. My heart was pounding, my fists were already clenched.

"Hey!" I barked, and the guy turned just in time to catch my punch square in the jaw.

Gasps echoed. Someone dropped their drink. Nate stumbled backward.

"Matt?!" he shouted, confused and wide-eyed.

The guy groaned and backed off, holding his face. "What the hell is your problem?!"

"She's not yours, man!" I snapped, half in rage, half in confusion. "He—he's not a damn party favor."

I didn't look back. My eyes were on Nate. His hair was a mess, his lips were red, and his expression was a cocktail of anger, shock, and something else.

NATE'S POV

Of course, the universe had to throw its own brand of cruel irony tonight.

It started with me looking for a distraction. I had seen Matt—with Nathan, no less. Talking like they were still the only two people on earth. The way Matt looked at him, the way Nathan touched his arm—I knew that touch. It used to be mine... for pretend, anyway.

And the worst part?

It hurt.

So yeah, I drank. A little too much. I laughed too loud. I flirted with someone who didn't matter, just to make myself forget.

The guy leaned in, and I knew it was a bad idea. But I didn't pull away.

I wanted to see if Matt cared.

I wanted to believe that this wasn't all a joke to him.

Then—bam. Out of nowhere.

Matt punched the guy.

Straight-up, full-on punch. No hesitation.

The music stopped. People stared. My ears were ringing.

"What the hell, Matt?!" I yelled, stumbling to my feet. "You don't get to act like that!"

He looked at me, chest heaving. "I don't care. I couldn't watch it."

"Well maybe you shouldn't be busy cozying up with your ex if you care so much!"

His mouth opened. Closed.

The crowd started to disperse, but my heart was still beating like I'd sprinted the whole bay.

Matt took a step forward. "You saw that?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I did."

He looked like he wanted to say something—something that might ruin us or save us.

But nothing came out.

Only silence. Again.

And then I whispered, "So was I just your way to get him back?"

Matt didn't answer.

So I turned away—eyes burning, throat tight.

I had to walk before I cried. Before I said something I couldn't take back.

Behind me, I heard him say softly, "You were never a plan, Nate."

But I wasn't sure I believed him anymore.

_________

The tension between them had cracked like glass.

Matt stood there, fist still throbbing from the punch, his chest still tight from the words Nate had thrown at him—deservedly so. People were whispering again. Phones were out. And in the middle of it all... Nate was swaying like a paper boat in a storm.

He tried to walk away. "I'm fine!" Nate slurred to no one in particular.

Except—he wasn't. His knees buckled, and before his face could meet the sand, Matt caught him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa—easy, baby," Matt muttered, instinctively catching Nate in his arms.

And for some reason, bridal-style felt like the most natural thing to do.

Matt hoisted him up like a scene straight out of a drama series—arms under Nate's legs and back, holding him close. Nate blinked at him, dazed and flushed. "You smell like guilt and tequila."

"You smell like a mistake I'd still make," Matt whispered under his breath, chuckling bitterly.

"Was that poetic?" Nate hiccuped. "That was poetic."

But Matt couldn't answer—not when the crowd suddenly erupted into cheers.

"WHOOOO!! GOALS!!"

"REAL LIFE K-DRAMA!"

"IS THIS A PROPOSAL?!"

Click. Click. Click.

Flashes exploded like fireworks around them.

Phones were up. Videos rolling. One girl even shouted, "THEY'RE SO IN LOVE I'M GONNA DIE."

Matt's jaw tensed.

This wasn't a scene anymore.

This was a headline in the making.

He turned, trying to shield Nate's face as they made their way back to the villa. Behind him, someone whispered, "Post that on Twitter. This is better than the last episode of any BL I've seen."

He carried Nate up the short wooden path toward the villa. Ciandrei and Jake trailed behind quietly, half amused, half concerned.

"I got him," Matt said.

"He's heavier than he looks," Jake muttered.

"Shut up," Matt grunted, still walking.

LATER THAT NIGHT... SOCIAL MEDIA IS ON FIRE

[TWITTER - @fan_boylife]

📸: Matt Reyes carrying Nate Villanueva like a Disney prince and the entire beach losing their minds.

"Y'ALL. THIS IS REAL. MATT LITERALLY CARRIED HIM LIKE HIS LIFE DEPENDED ON IT."

[INSTAGRAM STORIES - @ZekeSavage]

🥂🏝️ Background: Nate mumbling something about mangoes while Matt adjusts his grip on him.

Caption: "How to end a night in Maya Bay 101."

[TIKTOK - @kdramaluvvverrr]

Song: "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift

 Clip of Matt bridal-carrying Nate with everyone clapping and shouting "KISS! KISS!"

"This isn't fake. This is LOVE."

#MattNate

#BridalCarryTrend

#MayaBayMadness

Matt shut the door behind them with his foot, the slam echoing through the villa like a warning bell. Nate was still limp in his arms, head leaning against Matt's chest, his breath warm and sticky with alcohol.

He set him down gently on the couch, but the moment Nate's back touched the cushions, he sat up like he was spring-loaded.

"Boundaries," Nate slurred, pointing a wobbly finger in Matt's direction. "Y-you don't get to carry me like a fairytale and then... act like... you didn't almost punch a man for breathing near me!"

Matt blinked. "You're welcome for saving you, by the way," he muttered, stripping off his jacket and throwing it onto the armrest.

"I didn't need saving! I needed... space!" Nate waved his arms dramatically. "I can flirt with whoever I want!"

Matt's jaw tightened. "So you were flirting? With that guy? Right in front of everyone?"

"Why do you even care?" Nate snapped, staggering to stand but swaying like a palm tree in a storm. "We're fake dating, remember? FAKE!"

"You were about to kiss him, Nate!" Matt's voice thundered through the villa, raw and sharp. "In front of everyone. When you're publicly dating someone. When my name is tied to yours—"

"Oh, now I'm bad for your brand?" Nate scoffed, tears pooling in his eyes—not from sadness, but from frustration. "Then maybe you should've been with your actual brand deal—Nathan Lim!"

That name cracked the air between them.

Matt flinched.

Nate didn't stop.

"I saw you," Nate continued, poking a finger into Matt's chest. "Laughing with him. Getting all nostalgic. While I was drinking away the fact that I'm just... a filler until he comes back."

Matt didn't speak.

Because God, wasn't that what he feared too?

"Why are you even mad, Matt?" Nate whispered now, voice trembling. "You can't play hero then vanish into someone else's memory."

"You think I'm vanishing?" Matt's eyes blazed. "You think I don't see everything—how you smile like it doesn't ache, how you look away every time we get close because you're scared it might not be fake anymore?"

Silence.

Nate swallowed hard.

Matt stepped closer. "I'm mad because I don't want to see you kissing someone else, okay? I hate it."

"But we're fake, right?" Nate challenged, eyes glossy. "So why does it hurt so much?"

Matt didn't answer.

He just grabbed him.

Their mouths collided like lightning meeting water—messy, wild, unforgiving. Nate gasped, and Matt kissed him deeper. Nate's hands tangled into Matt's hair, pulling him closer, closer, like he was drowning and Matt was the only thing keeping him afloat.

They crashed into the wall, lips desperate, hearts louder than the rain outside.

But then—

Matt pulled away, breathing hard, forehead pressed against Nate's.

"I shouldn't," Matt whispered. "You're drunk."

Nate leaned in again, but Matt gently caught his face, steadying him. "I want to... but not like this. You're not okay."

Nate exhaled slowly, falling back onto the couch.

The heat between them still buzzed in the air, their lips tingling, eyes locked.

Matt stood there for a second—conflicted, wired, aching.

Then quietly, he walked around the couch and scooped Nate into his arms again.

This time, not for a crowd. Not for the cameras.

Just for him.

He laid Nate gently on the bed of their shared room, pulled a blanket over him, then paused.

Nate reached out, barely awake, barely coherent. "Don't go."

Matt hesitated, then nodded—slipping under the blanket beside him, careful not to touch.

But in the dark, Nate's hand found his.

And Matt didn't let go.

//