A kiss.

He still remembered it. Carli had always been the one he had his eyes on. Simon had spent way too long imagining it all and even longer looking away from the fact he was being played like a damn fiddle.

For a moment he enjoyed it: he wanted to think it was true, but fruit that sweet often goes bitter soon after.

It was all a little show to work with envy. He was a toy again, a 'worse option' to make boys Carli actually wanted sure they'd be better. The envy building loser that couldn't be normal.

He ended it. He really did. When did he have that courage, he remembered thinking. Now he had to do that thing all freshly single people did where they insulted their ex like they didn't want to cling to their thighs and beg for forgiveness.

It felt weird calling her a bitch.