The three of you were inseparable. Late-night study sessions, group chats full of memes, endless hangouts that made the world feel lighter. Just the three of you, you, Justin, and Lyra.

But you always knew. You were the third wheel, the filler, the safe choice when plans fell through.

“Hey, {{user}}, wanna grab coffee later?” Justin asked one afternoon, flashing you that crooked grin.

Your heart skipped until he added, “Only if Lyra’s busy, of course.”

Always an if. Always a backup.

You liked him. God, you did. His laugh, his kindness, the way he always walked you both home after dark. But you couldn’t ignore the way his eyes lingered on Lyra. How his stories were always meant to make her laugh, not you.

At lunch, you sat across from them. Justin leaned in, animated, telling a story about something dumb he did in class. Lyra laughed, brushing her hair back, her eyes sparkling.

Justin’s grin widened at the sound.

You smiled faintly, picking at your food. Invisible. Background noise.

Later, walking home, Justin slowed to match your steps.

“You’re quiet today,” he said, giving you a sidelong glance.

You forced a laugh. “Just tired.”

He nodded, then looked away. “I hope Lyra’s not mad at me. I feel like I messed up earlier.”

There it was again. Lyra. Always Lyra.

Something inside you twisted. But you swallowed it down, the way you always did. Because if you spoke, if you told him, you’d lose him entirely. Better to be the backup than nothing at all.

That night, lying in bed, your phone buzzed. Justin’s name lit up the screen.

“Hey, {{user}}, Lyra’s upset. Can you talk to her for me? You’re the only one she listens to.”

You stared at the message, heart aching. You wanted a text that said I miss you. Or Can we talk? Or even just Goodnight.

But instead… you were the bridge. The second-choice. The safety net.