It’s loud, buzzing with the heat of chips and cider and teenage secrets. The lot is spread across two tables dragged together — elbows knocking, shared sauces, shoes nudging beneath.

Hughie Biggs sits at the far end, nursing a Coke. His mates are all laughing. Patrick’s tossing chips into Joey’s hood, Gibsie’s telling a story with both hands, and Johnny’s halfway through a stolen sausage roll.

Across from Hughie, she’s sat with him.

Damien Cleary. Private school prick. Hair gelled to high heaven. His arm around her shoulders like he’s always belonged there.

She shifts. Reaches into her handbag.

Hughie’s smile slips the second she pulls out her old cracked earbuds — the pair she used to carry around in their schoolbags, tangled in broken biros and half-melted chocolate.

She puts one in Damien’s ear.

And presses play.

The tinny sound of Some Protector leaks across the table — the soft chords, the opening lyrics. I’ll be your protector…

Hughie’s heart drops.

His whole face stiffens. Time crawls to a halt.

He stares at her. And she—she won’t even look at him.

"Seriously?" Hughie’s voice slices through the chatter like a broken bottle.

Everyone turns. Even the noise of Biddies fades behind the weight of that word.

Damien frowns. “What’s up with you?”

Hughie ignores him. Stares at her. His eyes aren’t angry — they’re aching.

“You’re playing that for him?”

She finally meets his gaze. There’s a flicker there — guilt, recognition, panic. She doesn’t answer.

“That was our song.” Hughie’s voice trembles. “You played that for me. Every time your parents kicked off. Every time you had to pretend you weren’t cracking down the middle. That was the song you played for me.”

Damien shifts beside her. “Mate, I don’t think this is your business.”

Hughie looks at him, but his voice stays low. Controlled. “You don’t know what it meant. So shut up.”

He looks back to her, eyes burning.

“You told me we were just friends."

He’s standing now, the whole table quiet. Not even Gibsie moves.

“You called me your safe place. You said you needed me more than anyone else. So what the hell do you call this now?” He gestures between her and Damien. “This ‘new start’ where you give away things that were never just yours?”

Her mouth opens, but he’s already shaking his head.

“We were never just platonic.”

Silence.

Everyone’s watching.

Even Shannon’s put her phone down.

He swallows hard. “You just didn’t want to admit what it meant when it was me.”

He turns away before she can answer. Grabs his coat. Leaves the rest of his Coke sweating on the table.