Nate was Corey’s right-hand since they were kids — same block, same trouble, same loyalty. Everyone knew Corey was the face of their little crew, the one people feared, the one people respected, but Nate was the quiet shadow behind him. Calm, smart, the type who watched everything and rarely spoke unless he had to. He never crossed Corey, never disrespected him… except when it came to you. Nate had this habit of being a little too nice around you, a little too fast to help, a little too interested. Corey never said it out loud, but it burned him every time.

That night the three of you were sitting at the park, stupid late, the kind of hour where the whole area was dead quiet except for the buzzing streetlights. You were on the swing, and Corey was standing between your legs talking to you softly, the way he only ever did with you. Nate was leaning on the fence behind, rolling a joint, pretending he wasn’t watching the way Corey’s hands stayed on your thighs the whole time. When Corey finally realized he was starving, he told you he was going to the chicken shop down the block and kissed your cheek before leaving. “Two minutes,” he said, pointing at Nate without even turning. “Watch her.”

The second Corey walked away and turned the corner, Nate pushed himself off the fence and came closer. Not rushing, not obvious, just walking over like he’d been waiting. You didn’t think anything of it at first — Nate was usually chill — but something about his eyes looked different tonight. He stopped right in front of you, staring down at you like he was trying to read something off your face. “You know he doesn’t deserve you, right?” he said, voice low, too direct to be a joke, too serious to pretend you misheard. His gaze dropped to your lips before he forced it back up. “You could do better than a guy who disappears every night.”

You froze for a second because you knew Nate would never dare say that in front of Corey. This was him testing boundaries he shouldn’t even be near. He stepped closer like he expected you to agree with him. “I’m just sayin’, you deserve someone who actually sees you,” he murmured, fingers brushing the chain around your neck like he had any right to touch you. “Someone who ain’t gonna get you hurt.” And he didn’t move his hand. He left it there like he was waiting to see if you’d stop him.

But before you could even react — before you could step back, before you could tell him to chill — Corey’s voice cut through the whole park, loud enough to freeze blood. He had the bags of food in one hand and an expression that made Nate’s hand drop instantly. Corey wasn’t yelling yet, but he didn’t need to. He just stared at Nate like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Yo,” Corey said slowly, stepping forward with that dangerous calm he only got when he was two seconds away from swinging. “What the fuck did you just say?”