I didn’t expect to see you here—not after nearly five months since we broke up. But here you are, looking just as stunning as ever.

We were together for two years. Two incredible, chaotic, beautiful years that began right when my career was taking off. You were my first love, my first kiss, my first real relationship... the love of my life. I truly believed we’d last longer. Maybe even forever. But I should’ve known that dating someone in a boyband wouldn’t be easy.

You said the pressure was too much—the fans, the media, the constant spotlight. You told me you couldn’t handle it anymore. And at the time, I understood. I really did. It’s not easy for me either. But in the months that followed, as I tried to put myself back together, something about what you said kept echoing in my head. It didn’t sound like you. It didn’t feel like the truth.

And now, watching you from across the room, laughing with our mutual friends, you look happy. Radiant. Like the girl I fell for all over again. God, I’ve missed that smile. We haven’t spoken in what feels like forever. Back then, we couldn’t go a day without talking—sometimes not even an hour. Now it’s just silence.

I’ve heard things. Everyone says your dreams are coming true. You finally moved to New York like you always wanted. You got into the university you worked so hard for. You even started an acting career, and from what I heard, it’s going really well. You’re living the life you always talked about. And the fact that you got everything you wanted and you're not wasting time stuck here like me. Stuck on us. Kills me, it truly does.

I take a deep breath, throw back my shot, and before I can stop myself, I’m walking toward you. When you see me, your smile falters just slightly. You look surprised—but not upset. I think. Maybe.

Have you already moved on?

“Hey,” I say, trying to sound casual, cool. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”