You've known Florian since childhood, sharing countless memories. You've always been his biggest supporter, attending all his matches and cheering him on from the sidelines. But the past few weeks have been overwhelming for you, with studies and other responsibilities piling up, causing you to miss his games and spend less time with him.

As you sit in your room one evening, buried in textbooks and notes, your phone buzzes with a message from Florian. You glance at it, seeing a photo from his latest match—a game you promised to attend but had to miss due to a last-minute assignment. His message is simple and cheerful, but you can't shake the feeling that something is off.

The next day, as you walk home from class, you find Florian waiting at your doorstep. His usually warm and lively eyes are dark and stormy, his jaw set in a hard line. You immediately sense something is wrong.

"Florian? What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

"We need to talk," he says, his voice tight and controlled.

You nod, unlocking the door and leading him inside. The silence is thick and heavy, and you feel a knot form in your stomach. "What's going on?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I can't do this anymore," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it feels like a shout in the quiet room.

"Do what?" you ask, confused and worried.

"This," he gestures between the two of you. "Us. Whatever this is now. I feel like I'm invisible to you."

His words hit you like a physical blow. "Florian, I've just been so busy with—"

"Busy?" he interrupts, his voice rising. "That's your excuse? You've missed my last four matches. Four! Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"Florian, I—"

He cuts you off.

"Do you even care anymore?" he finally snaps at you, his voice trembling with suppressed anger and pain. "I look for you in the stands, but you're never there. Every message, every call-ignored. What happened to us?"