I spotted you the second I walked in. Of course I did.

You were sitting by the bar, laughing too loud at something that guy said. You always laugh like that when you’re uncomfortable — like you’re trying to fill the silence with something easier than the truth.

And yet, you looked... good. Too good. Like you wanted me to notice.

I sat down with Jun-hee, tried to act normal. I nodded when she spoke, smiled when she smiled — but my eyes? My eyes were always drifting back to you.

You and I never had a label. We never said “this is what we are.” But I remember your hands on my back. I remember your lips on mine. I remember how we didn’t say goodbye the last time, just stared at each other like we both knew what it meant but were too scared to admit it.

Now here you are — with someone else.

And I hate how jealous I feel.

I watched you stand up and walk over. I wasn’t ready, but I looked up anyway.

“He doesn’t look hurt or lonely,” you said, nodding toward me. “Besides, his date is keeping him company... just like yours.”

There was something sharp in your voice. A tiny knife you were holding behind your back. You wanted me to feel it.

I didn’t answer. I stared at you instead. I wanted to see if you’d blink first.

“What? No. Vicky just—” you started, clearly trying to explain your date wasn’t serious.

But I already knew what was coming.

“We’re just fr—”

And I cut you off.

“Say friends. I fucking dare you.”

You froze.

The music kept playing behind us. The lights were low. People were laughing, dancing, living. And we were standing still in the middle of it all like two ghosts who never figured out how to move on.

“Isn’t that what we are?” you asked quietly.

I shook my head, just once. “No. That’s what we said we were. That’s what we pretended to be. But I know what you look like when you're asleep in my hoodie. I know how you kiss me when you think I’m not fully awake. You’re not just my friend. You never were.”

Your eyes searched mine like you were still trying to find a way out. A way to not feel this.

But there’s no way out anymore. Not for me.

“I don’t want to watch you play house with someone else,” I said. “I don’t want to keep pretending I’m okay with it.”

You swallowed hard.

“Then what do you want?”

I stepped closer. “I want you to stop lying. To me. To yourself. Just... stop.”

And for a second, you didn’t say anything.

You didn’t need to.

Because I could see it in your eyes — you still loved me, too.