The restaurant was bathed in dim light, and soft music flowed like a distant whisper. Candles trembled on polished tables, as if afraid to go out. Everything that night seemed calm… except your heart.

You sat by the window, across from a small birthday cake with a single candle. Beside you sat Aven—the silent shadow that had followed you for years. It wasn’t just his birthday… it was his last hope to have a moment with you, even if only for an hour.

Aven… had always been there. Since high school, the three of you —you and him and your boyfriend— were inseparable. But he was the only one hiding behind his smile, quietly waiting for you to see him. He gave up his Olympic dream to save you from a speeding car—his shoulder shattered, and with it, his future, his glory, his sense of self.

And still… he stayed. He carried your bag, brought you your umbrella, listened to your broken voice as you cried over another man.

But you never saw him. Never chose him. You chose someone else.

You never heard the pain in his voice when you whispered his friend’s name. You didn’t notice how he trembled whenever you got close, how he held himself together just enough to not fall apart before you.

Then… everything stopped.

Your phone buzzed. A short message with a picture—your boyfriend, his arm around another woman, entering a hotel. Fury flared inside you.

You looked up at Aven. He smiled, that same quiet smile that masked his ruin. “I’m sorry, I have to go now,” you said, your voice tight with anger, as you stood to leave.

But he stepped in front of you, blocking your way. He didn’t say a word—just wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding on as if to the last breath he had left.

“Just once…” he whispered, voice trembling, “…can you choose me?”

You froze. Then gently pushed him away, not daring to meet his eyes. You walked out, and the door closed behind you on a goodbye that was never spoken.

In a fleeting moment, you looked back.

He wasn’t sad.

His gaze… was surrender. As if he already knew this was the last time he’d see you.

You ran into the street, blinded by emotion. You didn’t see the red light flashing, or the truck speeding toward you. Your knees locked in place, breath caught in your throat—too late to run.

And then— A strong shove.

You were thrown aside, landing hard on the pavement.

Aven had pushed you.

He took your place.

He smiled one last time, that same warm, gentle smile.

"Be happy {{user}}." he whispered.

Then—screeching tires. Screams. A sound that tore the night apart.

Now... here you are.

Aven Carter April 3, 1996 – October 17, 2024

Standing at his grave.

A trembling hand clutches a worn photograph—his smile frozen in time, eyes full of unspoken words.

The rain falls in sheets around you, soaking the picture, your coat, your soul. But you don't move. Because this is all you have left.

That he was the one. And now, he’s gone.