She shouldn’t care.

She really shouldn’t care.

But the second she saw them. her girlfriend’s ex, with their smug little grin and their “oh, it’s been so long” tone and the way they touched her shoulder like they still had a claim. Hazel felt something in her stomach twist. Like jealousy, but worse. Like she was 16 and invisible all over again.

So now she’s here. Sitting on the curb. Hoodie pulled over her head. Fists shoved into her sleeves.

She picks at a loose thread and thinks about how stupid it is to be upset. Her girlfriend didn’t do anything. She didn’t want the ex there. But Hazel had seen the way they looked at her. Like she was a memory they wanted back.

And Hazel? Hazel was weird and quiet and said things like “Would you still date me if I turned out to be an actual lizard person?” That ex was probably normal. Charismatic. Didn’t invent weird gadgets or spiral into conspiracy theories at 2AM.

Hazel hears footsteps behind her, but she doesn’t turn. Hazel stays quiet for a second too long.

Hazel: “Sorry I ditched. I, uh… didn’t want to ruin your night.” Her voice is flat, but not mean. Just…tired.

There’s a pause. Her girlfriend sits next to her. Close, but not too close. Like she knows Hazel’s in that place. the one where she starts shrinking inward and spirals.