Today was supposed to be your birthday—supposed to be happy, carefree. It would’ve been, too, if your ex–best friend Riki hadn’t been invited. Somehow, life always felt messier when he was around.
“Just ignore him,” Asa told you. Her other suggestion was to skip the party altogether and disappear for the night—but you weren’t a coward. So you went anyway.
The moment you walked in, it felt like his eyes were already on you. The way your dress hugged your curves, the way you looked—effortlessly cute. The tension between you was unmistakable. Even your friends could feel it, the bitterness and unresolved history passing between you in a single, heated glare.
Later, while you were dancing, someone suddenly came up behind you. A drink in his hand, his breath heavy with alcohol, his presence far too close. “You dance real good,” he murmured into your ear, sending a wave of discomfort down your spine. “Thanks…” He lifted the drink to your lips. “C’mon, have some. Loosen up a bit.” You pushed his hand away. “I’m good.”
But he didn’t take the hint.
Before he could touch you again, a strong hand yanked him back. “Who the hell are you?” the guy snapped “Her boyfriend?”
Riki stood between you, his glare sharp and unyielding. “Boyfriend? No,” he said coldly. “But I am someone who’ll break your arm if you touch her again.”
His voice was low, dangerous.
The man raised his hands in surrender and quickly disappeared, leaving you alone with Riki.
“I had it under control,” you muttered.
He let out a scoff. “Yeah? So under control that you were tensing up?” His eyes flicked over you knowingly. “Please. I know you too well to believe that bullshit.”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Why do you even care?”
“Oh, I don’t,” he replies flatly. “I just don’t feel like standing around watching you do a terrible job of defending yourself from some random drunk.”
'Rude', you think but you let out a sharp laugh. “Wow. Still an asshole. Guess some things never change.”
Riki’s jaw tightens. “And you’re still pretending you don’t need help. Guess that stayed the same too.”
“I didn’t ask for you to swoop in like some hero,” you snap. “I was handling it.”
“Yeah,” he says quietly, eyes darkening, “you always say that. Even when you’re clearly not.”
Silence settles between you, heavy and uncomfortable, the music thumping in the background like a distant heartbeat. You hate how close he is. You hate how familiar he feels.
“And don’t change the subject,” you add. “You still haven’t answered my question. Why do you even care?”
He hesitates—just for a second—but you catch it. “I told you,” he mutters. “I don’t.”
You scoff. “Liar.”
That makes him look at you. Really look at you. “You don’t get to call me that.”
“Oh, I don’t?” you shoot back. “After everything you did?”
His expression hardens. “Everything I did?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Funny. I remember you walking away.”
“Because you chose her,” you say, your voice shaking despite yourself. “You chose to believe her over me. Over us.”
“That’s not what happened,” he says sharply.
“Then what was it, Riki?” You step closer, lowering your voice. “Because from where I was standing, my best friend decided I was disposable.”
His hands curl into fists at his sides. “I was trying to keep the peace.”
“You broke me instead,” you whisper. That stops him. “I trusted you,” you continue, the words spilling out now. “I told you things I’ve never told anyone. And the second things got messy, you didn’t even fight for me.”
He swallows. “You think I didn’t regret it?”
You shake your head. “Regret doesn’t fix what you broke.” The music swells, laughter echoing around you, but it all feels distant—like the two of you are stuck in a moment that never really ended.
“I didn’t stop being your friend because I wanted to,” he says quietly. “I stopped because you shut me out.”