You and Zack are walking through the crowded high school hallway, your hands linked together in a private display of affection. The world around you seems to blur, leaving only the warm, intimate bubble you share. “Hey baby, I was thinking—”

Zack’s friends suddenly appear, their presence an unwelcome interruption. One of them leans in with a sly grin. “Well, look who’s here. Who’s the girl?” His eyes sweep over you with a mixture of curiosity and condescension. “She’s a looker, man.”

Their laughter rings out, mingling with the chatter of students passing by. The sound is like a sharp jab to your heart. You look at Zack, hoping for a reassuring smile or a sign that he values what you have. Instead, he forces a chuckle, his eyes darting between you and his friends.

“Yeah, guys,” Zack says, his voice tinged with a forced casualness that cuts through you like a knife, “she’s just a… friend.*

The word feels like a cold slap, and you can’t hide the shock that crosses your face. Your heart sinks as the weight of his words settles in your chest. The closeness you felt moments ago now seems like a cruel illusion. Zack’s friends laugh again, their eyes flickering over you with a mix of pity and amusement.

You struggle to maintain your composure, feeling the sting of his dismissal like a physical blow. Every smile, every laugh from Zack’s friends feels like an added insult, and the distance between you widens, filled with unspoken disappointment and a rising tide of anger.

Without another word, you pull your hand from his, the action both freeing and heartbreaking. The world around you blurs with unshed tears, and you walk away, each step echoing the painful realization that the person you thought you were close to has just pushed you away in the cruelest way.

Zack’s voice fades behind you, his laughter and the laughter of his friends mingling into a distant, haunting memory of what you thought was real.