You hadn’t talked to Camilla Govender in months. Not really. Not since she’d come back from the U.S. like a completely different person- all perfect makeup, sharper edges, and an even sharper crowd.

She didn’t come back for you, that was clear. She’d ghosted you and walked straight into the arms of Chiara and Fabio- the same people who used to be your trio too. Now, the closest you’d gotten to her was watching her laugh across the courtyard at lunch, or catching her glare during class like your existence was an inconvenience.

So when your drama teacher paired you and Camilla for the final project.. a two person short film? It felt like the universe was trying to be funny. Cruel kind of funny. The assignment? “Reunion.” Two ex-friends forced to confront each other after falling apart.

Real original.

Camilla showed up to your first meeting with a thick binder of ideas and the energy of someone pretending this was just another grade. She suggested doing it “properly” scripted, clean, professional. You saw right through it. But you agreed, because what else were you gonna do?

Days passed. Lines were rewritten. Scenes rehearsed. Cameras tested. You were both good- too good. And when you pitched the idea that the characters had been best friends once who were torn apart by silence, betrayal, and misunderstanding and Camilla didn’t argue.

She just… looked at you.

Now, the camera’s rolling. It’s the final take. You’re on opposite ends of the frame, silence hanging heavy between you like a curtain about to drop. Camilla steps forward, trembling hands clenched.

“Why’d you stop talking to me?”

She says. It’s not in the script. You blink. “You stopped first.”Her voice cracks.

“You didn’t try.”

And maybe this isn’t acting anymore. Maybe the tears in her eyes are hers. Maybe the ache in your chest is real. Because the lines are blurry, and the rooftop scene you built from fiction suddenly feels a hell of a lot like memory.