The rooftop garden at KISS was quiet at night. The school’s lantern festival had just ended, and glowing paper lights floated in the sky like gentle stars. Students had already gone back to their dorms — all except Kitty Covey, who stayed behind, dangling her legs over the edge of the bench, staring at the moon.

“Covey,” came a familiar, annoyed voice from behind.

She didn’t even flinch. “Let me guess. You’re here to tell me I’m sitting in your spot.”

Min Ho rolled his eyes. “You are sitting in my spot. And ruining the view.”

“Well, you’re ruining my peace,” she fired back without missing a beat.

He smirked, but sat beside her anyway. For a moment, they just stared at the floating lanterns in silence.

She dared to glance at him — his profile lit by soft golden light. He looked different when he wasn’t throwing insults. Less perfect. More real.

“…Where’s Stella?” Kitty asked.

“Why do you care?” he snapped quickly — too quickly.

Kitty raised an eyebrow. “Geez, calm down.”

Min Ho sighed and leaned back, letting the wind ruffle his hair. “She left early. Said something about skincare and boredom. I told her the second part was mutual.”

Kitty gave a quiet laugh. “You’re terrible.” “You think I don’t know that?” There was something in his voice. Something heavy. Kitty paused.

“You okay?” she asked softly. He blinked. “What, no sarcasm? No snarky comeback?” “Nope. Just asking." “…We broke up,” he finally said. “Officially.” Kitty looked over, surprised. “You… and Stella?” “Yeah.” He exhaled. “It wasn’t real, anyway. She just liked the image. And I…” he trailed off.

She tilted her head. “You what?” Min Ho looked right at her this time. Really looked. “I think I was pretending. To like someone who wasn’t you.” Kitty’s heart skipped.

“…Excuse me?” He stood up suddenly, flustered. “Forget I said that. This was dumb.” But before he could walk away, she grabbed his wrist. “Min Ho.” He froze.

“I’m not dumb.” He turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “Then stop acting like it,” he whispered.

And before she could even process what that meant, he was leaning down. Not kissing her — but close enough to count. Just barely brushing her forehead with his own. “I only ever called you Covey because if I used your first name, I’d fall harder.”

Then he pulled back. Kitty was breathless. Words sat on her tongue, but none made it out before he was already walking away, back into the glowing night.

She sat there in silence, the lanterns above drifting like secrets. Only one thing was clear.

Min Ho didn’t hate her. He loved her. And Kitty was starting to realize — she might love him too.