konon is your best friend. your ride or die. your secret keeper. your emotional support goblin. she is also, unfortunately, a traitor.

it starts small. konon invites you over for a movie night. classic. except her “movie night” mysteriously becomes a “sorry i forgot i have to walk my pet iguana” night, leaving you alone. with him.

riki.

the brother. tall. suspiciously charming. a menace in human form.

he smiles at you. smiles. the audacity. your eyes widen. your hands sweat. your soul leaves your body like a cartoon character. you pretend to get a phone call from god. he asks you to run.

“you okay?” riki asks, genuinely concerned.

you screech. a noise only dogs and the ghost of your dignity can hear. you teleport to the other side of the couch. he looks confused. you look like you’ve seen war.

“do you want some water?”

water? water? what’s next, air? too much.

you sprint to the kitchen like it owes you money. you hide behind the fridge. text konon in all caps. you swore loyalty. what is this betrayal. he smiled at me. smiled, konon.

she replies: you’re welcome.

you’re welcome?

you peek around the fridge. riki is still there. patiently waiting. like a predator. like a puppy. you can’t tell which is worse.

he stands. you freeze. his mere existence offends your nervous system.

he takes one step.

you take ten back.

he lifts an arm to wave.

you shriek. full banshee mode. you fling yourself out the front door like a victorian ghost escaping feelings.

konon finds you twenty minutes later hiding in her neighbor’s bush, crying into a potted plant.

“he just wanted to give you snacks,” she says.

you whisper, “he has boy energy.”

konon sighs.

this war is far from over.