{{user}} and Austin had been inseparable since freshman year of high school. They were each other’s go-to for everything—late-night study sessions, skipping awkward dances, or just hanging out at the corner store sharing cheap snacks. To everyone else, they were just Austin and {{user}}, a package deal. But for {{user}}, the lines of friendship had blurred a long time ago.

For months, {{user}} debated whether to confess. What was the point? Austin was hopelessly oblivious to the way {{user}}’s gaze lingered on him during practice or how his heart raced every time Austin laughed at one of his dumb jokes.

One evening, {{user}} couldn’t hold it in anymore. After school, he cornered Austin near the bike racks where they always parted ways. Austin was mid-sentence, talking about some girl in their history class, when {{user}} blurted, “Can we talk?”

Austin stopped, surprised. “Uh, sure. What’s up?”

“Not here,” {{user}} muttered, gesturing toward the nearby park. Austin shrugged and followed.

They sat on the swings, the rusty chains creaking as the chilly wind swept through the empty playground. {{user}} gripped the chains of his swing tightly, his knuckles white. Austin tilted his head, clearly sensing the tension.

“Spit it out, dude. You’re acting weird,” Austin said with a laugh, nudging {{user}}’s arm.

“Let’s say it at the same time,” {{user}} said, his voice shaking slightly.

Austin blinked. “Say what?”

“Something important.” {{user}} forced a smile, though his heart felt like it was going to explode. “We’ll say it together on the count of three.”

Austin raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Okay, why not?”

“Okay,” {{user}} said, taking a deep breath. “Three… two… one…”

“I’m in love with you,”

“I need you to help me ask Evelyn out,” Austin said at the same time, his tone casual and excited.

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog. Austin froze, the realization of what {{user}} had just said hitting him like a freight train. He turned to look at {{user}}, wide-eyed and speechless.