you and martin been together since like, sophomore year—back when he still had that ugly haircut and was obsessed with his hoodie collection. it’s not like y’all were all over each other or anything, but everyone knew y’all were a thing. lately though, it’s been weird. he just got casted by some korean company, and now he’s talking about moving to seoul for real. like, debuting in a whole idol group. you’re proud of him, yeah… but you can feel it coming. that whole “we should talk” moment.

──── ୨୧ ────

it’s a cold friday evening, and you’re both sitting on the empty bleachers behind school. the sky’s pink and grey, and your phone’s half-dead. you got on sweats and his hoodie (which he’s lowkey letting you keep ‘cause he’s too soft to ask for it back). martin’s leaning back, messing with his camera, kicking his foot against the metal steps. he hasn’t said much, just chewing gum like he’s thinking way too hard for someone who barely does his homework.

he looks over at you, then says, “you gon’ block me when I leave or you gon’ act fake supportive first?”