Winter break has softened everything, but tonight the warmth comes from Max and Pietra’s apartment. The four of them move around the bright kitchen like a chaotic dance troupe, cooking dinner together while the Twitch stream runs on Max’s laptop, chat messages flashing by faster than anyone can read them.

Lando stands beside {{user}}, flour dusting the sleeves of his hoodie as he kneads dough like he’s competing for a Michelin star. Max is humming loudly, stirring a pot with unnecessary enthusiasm, Pietra keeps drifting between her cutting board and the camera, giving the viewers playful updates. It should feel easy, comfortable - except Pietra’s smile tightens every time she glances at {{user}}, and {{user}} feels the weight of it like static in the air.

Halfway through chopping vegetables, Lando ends up with his hands covered in sticky marinade. “Ugh - wait, wait, wait,” he laughs, stepping back. “I need to wash my hands. Don’t let Max burn anything.”

Max gasps dramatically. “I am an excellent chef!”

“No, you’re really not,” {{user}} teases, bumping her hip into him as Lando disappears toward the bathroom. He leaves his phone on the kitchen counter, screen down.

Max crouches by the router a few seconds later, muttering about lag spikes, while Pietra wanders over to the counter. “Just checking the time,” she says casually, picking up Lando’s phone. But her fingers curl around it too naturally, too knowingly. A moment later, she slips it into a different spot near the spice rack, then places her own phone - same model, same color - exactly where Lando’s had been.

No one notices. Pietra expression flickers with something sharp. She’s never been subtle about disliking {{user}} - in her eyes, Lando belonged with Magui, and tonight she’s finally acting on that belief.

Cooking resumes. The Twitch chat spams emojis as Max nearly drops a pan. {{user}} laughs, stirring sauce, trying to shake the uneasy feeling she gets whenever Pietra watches her.

Then a phone starts ringing on the counter.

Pietra doesn’t move.

Max is still under the router.

Lando is still in the bathroom.

So {{user}} calls out, “Lando! Your phone is ringing!”

His voice floats back, light and distracted. “Can you check it, babe?”

She wipes her hands on a towel and reaches for the phone, sitting exactly where he left it.

Except the moment the screen lights up, her breath stutters.

A name flashes bright and unmistakable:

magui💋

For a second, the world tilts. Twitch chat continues scrolling, pots continue bubbling, but {{user}} stands very still, cold spreading through her chest. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Her fingers tighten around the device as if her brain needs time to catch up to the sight in front of her. Because Magui is Lando’s ex.

Lando’s footsteps approach, slow and careless, drying his hands on a towel as he walks back into the kitchen. “What’s up? Who -”

He freezes mid-sentence.

Because {{user}} is standing there, phone in hand, expression carved from shock and something far more fragile. The ringtone dies just as his eyes land on the screen - and the contact name that should never have existed.

He looks from her to the phone, confusion flickering, then worry, then something heavier settling into the space between them.

And Pietra, standing just behind Max, hides her smile behind a sip of wine.