Being Bahiyyih’s best friend meant you practically lived in the Huening house, laughter spilling between movie nights and late practices. You promised yourself you’d never look twice at her older brother. He was off-limits, the golden rule you repeated every time Hueningkai passed by in the hallway with that effortless smile. But it became harder when his gaze lingered on you a second too long, when his teasing carried a softness that felt meant only for you.

One night, after practice, you found him waiting near the studio doors. “You shouldn’t walk home this late.” He said, offering to walk with you. His voice was steady, but his hand brushed yours in a way that felt anything but innocent.