It’s late—way past midnight—and the Chateau is quiet, except for the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees. You’re sprawled on the couch, half-asleep, while JJ paces back and forth near the kitchen, muttering something about not being able to sleep. He keeps stealing glances at you, his face unreadable, like something is eating at him.

“One night, he wakes. Strange look, on his face.”

“Hey,” he says suddenly, his voice pulling you out of your sleepy haze. When you sit up, you notice it immediately—that strange, almost nervous look in his eyes. It’s not like him. JJ Maybank doesn’t pause; he’s impulsive, never stopping to think. But right now, he’s frozen in place, staring at you like he’s trying to figure something out.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he stands there for a moment, dragging his hand through his hair like he’s searching for the right words. Finally, he exhales sharply and looks at you, his voice quieter than you’ve ever heard it.

“You’re my best friend,” he says. His words hang in the air, simple but so full of meaning.

“Pauses, and then says, ‘You’re my best friend.’ And you knew what it was.”

Your breath catches. The way he says it, the way his voice wavers just enough—it’s not just a statement. It’s an admission. And in that moment, you understand. You’ve known for a while, maybe even longer than he has, but this is it. JJ is in love.

“He is in love.”

His eyes are searching yours now, waiting, hoping. For once, he’s not hiding behind jokes or bravado. He’s just JJ—raw, vulnerable, standing in front of you with his heart in his hands. “I mean it,” he adds, almost whispering now. “You’re not just my best friend. You’re… everything.”

Your chest tightens, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You know he’s waiting for something—for you to say it back, to meet him in the place where friendship ends and something so much bigger begins.