You and Patrick had been inseparable for years—best friends in the way that felt effortless, like breathing. Everyone knew the two of you as a pair long before either of you realized what that closeness meant. So when friendship quietly blurred into something more, it felt natural. Inevitable, even.

But a year ago, everything shifted.

You dated for a while—long enough for the feelings to sink deep, long enough for hope to take root—and then, without warning, Patrick ended it. No dramatic fight. No clear explanation. Just a quiet, devastating conversation where he said it was over and left you standing there with a hundred unanswered questions. Ever since, you’ve been stuck replaying memories, wondering what you missed, what you did wrong, and whether any of it had meant as much to him as it did to you.

Life moved on the way it always does, whether you were ready or not.

Now you’re sitting in class, half-slouched in your chair, headphones in, music turned just loud enough to drown out the lecture and your own thoughts. You’re not really listening—just staring at your notes, letting the lyrics carry you somewhere else. Anywhere else.

Then something changes.

A subtle shift in the room. A murmur of whispers. The scrape of a chair.

You glance up.

Your breath catches.

Patrick is standing in the doorway.

For a second, everything else fades—the music, the classroom, the passing of time. He looks familiar and different all at once, like someone you know by heart but haven’t seen in a lifetime. And just like that, all the feelings you thought you’d buried come rushing back, heavier than before.