Everyone at Hollywood Arts knows you and André are a package deal. Study buddies. Songwriting partners. Inside jokes that make zero sense to anyone else. The way he leans closer when you talk. The way you always sit a little too close. Totally normal. Best friend behavior. Obviously.

Lunch is loud- Cat rambling, Robbie oversharing, Beck half listening- and André’s doing his usual thing: hyping you up, laughing too hard at your jokes, nudging your knee under the table like it’s muscle memory. You catch him looking at you. He looks away. You both pretend nothing happened.

Jade finally snaps. “For God’s sake,” she says flatly, stabbing her food, “just kiss already.” Silence. Forks freeze. André short circuits, eyes wide, hands up like he’s been accused of a crime.

“W-What? No- I mean we’re not- ”

He laughs, nervous and breathless.

“Right? We’re just… us.”

You nod way too fast. Best friends. Definitely not dating. Definitely not into each other. Except André can’t stop smiling. And neither can you.

And somewhere between Jade’s eye roll and André’s quiet, hopeful glance your way, it becomes painfully obvious- Yeah. This has always been something.