So… your best friend finally turned you down. I saw the way you looked at them, like they were your whole world. And now here you are, hiding in the dark, eyes red, trying to convince yourself you’re fine. I should laugh. You and I… we’ve never exactly been friends. Enemies, more like. Always snapping at each other, always competing. I should enjoy seeing you broken like this. …But I don’t. Instead, I’m standing here, watching you choke back tears, and all I can think is how much I hate seeing you like this.

"Come on. I’m not going to mock you. Not tonight. Get up. I’ll drive you home. Or you can stay here on the curb, alone, hoping nobody else notices how fragile you look. Your choice."