CHAPTER 5 — “When Chaos Walked In”

We Never Said Goodbye

The sky was draped in soft grey clouds, the kind that made everything below look a little quieter, a little slower. Mark stood outside the bookstore, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, phone in hand though he wasn't reading anything.

His heart was beating a little louder than usual—not wild, but just enough to make him aware of it. Every few seconds, he'd glance up, scanning faces.

And then he saw her.

Bright hoodie. Loose jeans. A casual slouch in her posture, like the world didn't demand performance from her. She spotted him and waved, her face lighting up in a wide grin that matched her DMs perfectly—slightly chaotic, fully unfiltered.

Mark's stomach flipped.

He smiled back and raised a hand in return, suddenly unsure if he was standing right or walking weird. His thoughts were racing, crashing into each other like anxious traffic.

She approached.

And for a second, it felt like everything else blurred out.

This was it. The moment they'd talked about for months. The chaos-meets-stability meetup Aria had jokingly threatened to make legendary.

> "I'm hugging you first. No escape."

That was what she'd said.

But now, standing face to face just a foot apart, neither of them moved.

She hesitated. Her arms lifted halfway—then stopped. Her smile stayed, but it flickered, almost like she was waiting for him to take the lead.

Mark's throat felt dry.

He chuckled, awkwardly.

"Hey," he said. His voice was a little softer than usual, like he didn't want to shake the moment too hard.

"Hey," she replied, mirroring his tone.

Then came the pause.

That one second where both of them tried to guess what the other might do—hug, laugh, say something—only to do absolutely nothing.

Mark quickly extended a hand. A default move. A safe one.

Aria looked at it like it had appeared out of nowhere.

Still, she shook it gently, their fingers brushing.

"We really fumbled that intro," she said, trying to laugh it off.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah… I thought you were gonna tackle me."

"I was," she admitted, a little breathlessly. "But then I saw you and I… blanked."

"Same."

Another pause. They weren't awkward in a bad way. Just… startled. Like two people who had known each other in a hundred digital ways and were now trying to figure out how that translated in real air, real eyes, real time.

Mark looked past her for a second, then down at his phone like something had come up.

"I should—uh," he mumbled, thumbing the screen, "check on something."

He didn't wait for her to respond—just gave a small nod and started walking, casual but clearly escaping the moment. Not because he didn't want to be there.

But because being there had felt too real.

He stopped just a little distance away—by a bench near the parking lot, head tilted up toward the grey sky. The air smelled faintly of books and distant rain. He took a deep breath, trying to slow the fluttering rhythm in his chest.

He hadn't expected that. Any of it.

Seeing her felt like someone hit unpause on a feeling he didn't know had been waiting.

His phone buzzed.

Aria 🧃:

"So handshake? Really? 😶"

"I was 0.2 seconds away from full koala-mode."

Mark:

"You blinked. I panicked."

"It was like my brain clicked 'exit meeting' IRL."

Aria 🧃:

"Tragic. All that buildup for the world's most professional greeting."

Mark:

"We looked like LinkedIn friends."

Aria 🧃:

"Honestly? I'm still proud we didn't trip over each other or spontaneously combust."

Mark:

"That's growth."

She sent a GIF of two penguins awkwardly waddling past each other.

He laughed—really laughed this time.

And as he sat there, breathing easier, texting her like it was just another ordinary day… he realized something.

Even if they'd fumbled the moment—

Even if there wasn't a hug, or a movie-style slow-mo scene—

They'd shown up.

And sometimes, that's enough.