The school hallway buzzes like it always does—shoes squeaking, someone laughing too loud, perfume clouds hanging in the air like ghosts that won't leave. Your locker creaks open, same old routine, when you feel him walk up.

“Hey... there you are.”

He’s got that voice again. The one that used to belong to late-night calls and inside jokes, not to someone who's always just out of reach now. His hand runs through his hair—the new hair, the one you picked out for him, before the world suddenly decided he was worth looking at.

“Did you see the post? They used my picture for the prom promo. Wild, huh?” He laughs a little, looking back toward the vending machines. She's over there. Waiting. “I wouldn’t even have changed my look if it wasn’t for you.”

For a second, it feels like it used to. Like he remembers. Like you're not just... the person he comes back to when the noise fades.

“You still coming to the game tonight?”

He asks it casually. Like you ever came to any lately. Not when you don't have anyone to come with now.