Focusing on work is simply impossible. No matter how grumpy the owner is or how pedantic the customers can be, nothing can bring Felix back down to Earth. As he arranges cans in the old, noisy fridge, crouches down to stock the off-brand chips on the shelf, or checks off items on the inventory list, his mind is elsewhere—lost in the thought of the Seychelles, the island he’ll be landing on in just a couple of days with Chan.

He has no idea what happened to his fate. Maybe the one writing it—hammering away on a dusty old typewriter—got bored of the dreary monotony of his life and decided it would be more interesting to turn it into a romance novel. Or perhaps a psychological thriller. Or a tragedy. For some reason, those last two seem far more likely than the first.

Around five in the afternoon, the owner grumbles a goodbye through clenched teeth. He didn’t take the news of Felix leaving for ten days nearly as philosophically. It’s a major inconvenience, obviously. But Felix is sure he’ll find some desperate soul in need of cash, even on such short notice—Sydney is a city where jobs disappear in the blink of an eye.

Customers thin out significantly after ten p.m., when even the most dedicated workaholics have finally called it a night and headed home. Outside, a heavy rain is falling, making the sky look even gloomier, but truth be told, that’s a blessing—it keeps the usual loiterers off the streets. Felix can enjoy the silence, so to speak. His mind, however, hasn’t been quiet for a second. It’s filled with worries, yes, but beneath them, there’s also a thrill. He tries not to dwell on the fact that he’ll be taking this incredible trip with that asshole Chan. Instead, he focuses on the fact that he’s about to see an amazing place—one he’d never have been able to afford on his meager convenience store salary. Plus, this trip will also take care of his debt to the plumber. A real godsend.

Seated on the stool behind the register, Felix pulls his phone from the lower pocket of his jeans. He scrolls through his contacts until he finds Jisung’s number and opens the chat. The moment he does, a strange nervousness washes over him. It feels as if he’s done something terribly wrong, yet at the same time, he can’t wait to shout it to the world. He doesn’t want to feel this way. He doesn’t want this at all. He’s probably losing his mind.

[ Hey. How are you? Do you miss my haunting presence in your apartment? This long message is just me stalling. You know how much I love doing that—oh oh. When I’m nervous, I love wasting time—oh oh. And why am I nervous, you ask? Well, let me tell you. And don’t make that face, I know you’re rolling your eyes in exasperation. Just don’t.

This morning, Chan showed up at my apartment. That’s right. Chan, the piece of shit who ghosted me after everything that happened at the party. But wait, there’s more. Oh no. Oh oh. I sound ridiculous with these “oh oh,” don’t I? Yeah, I know, I’m aware. Anyway, listen to this. He comes over and guess what this colossal idiot asks me? He wants me to dress up as Lizzie again and play the role at his cousin’s wedding because his mom would be so happy.

I mean, does he take me for a complete moron? And his cousin isn’t even getting married around the corner—nope, she’s tying the knot in the Seychelles. Do you really think I’d do something that stupid? Dress up as a woman, fly to an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and pretend to be his girlfriend in front of all his relatives for ten days? Let me tell you, he’s completely brain-dead. A guy like that must have hit his head as a kid—hard.

And get this—he was so desperate that he even offered to pay me four times my salary to convince me! AHAH! Does he think I’m some kind of toy? Nope. No way. Felix is not for sale. No, sir.

Hope your day went better than mine. I kinda miss hearing you snore, you know?

Anyway, I took Chan’s offer and I’m leaving in two days. I’m going to bury myself now. Goodbye. ]

He sends the message without even rereading it. It’s undoubtedly the longest text he’s ever written in his entire life—and probably the longest he ever will. The moment the message is marked as read, Felix throws his phone onto the counter, nerves on edge.

It’s Jisung. Why the hell is he so scared? They’re friends. Great friends.

When his phone suddenly starts vibrating like crazy and Jisung’s name pops up on the screen, Felix is actually about to lose it. He immediately hits the red decline button and fires off another message.

[ I’m not ready to hear you scream at me. I know. I’m an idiot. Just say it, go on. I know you want to. I’d do the same if I were you. ]

[ YOU’RE AN IDIOT. A COMPLETE FUCKING IDIOT. But I would’ve done the same. Enjoy the ocean, you spineless coward. And don’t even think about leaving without calling me, YOU HEAR ME??? ]

Felix sighs as he reads the message, but then a quiet laugh escapes him. Moments like these remind him why he needs Jisung in his life. He’s that little dose of madness—the good kind, the kind that makes everything feel okay, that makes Felix feel like his brain isn’t wired wrong. And God knows how badly he needs that right now, when everything feels shaky, when nothing is in order, when it’s impossible to pinpoint a solid strategy that will lead to the best possible outcome with the least amount of damage.

He shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and presses a hand against his palm. Exhaling, he stares at a vague point in front of him. He truly has no idea what to expect from this trip. He doesn’t know what will happen, how he’ll feel, or even if he’ll be able to keep up the act as Lizzie for that long—especially considering how quickly he cracked at the party. He shuts his eyes, trying stubbornly to push that memory away.

They both made so many mistakes that night. And more than half of them, Felix doesn’t even understand. He only knows they exist—undeniable, lingering like cracks in a vase that somehow still manages to stand. How their friendship can even still be called that is a mystery. But then again, it’s not the first time he’s found himself thinking this exact same thing.

Situations change. Emotions change. The reasons they fight, the way they talk to each other, the insults they hurl—those all change. The colors of their hair, the length of it, the style of their clothes. Their dreams and ambitions shift. Even their taste in music. Sometimes, even their favorite foods. But if there’s one thing that never changes, it’s the fragile balance their relationship teeters on, completely unfazed by the constant storms trying to bring it down.

Felix truly believes it.

Maybe this time, it really is do or die. Maybe he’ll finally understand if there’s still a place for Chan in his life—for his best friend. Or maybe he’ll realize that all this time, he’s been fighting to hold onto nothing more than a sliver of space in Chan’s world.

Felix thinks he should use this chance to figure things out—to figure himself out. And he hopes, with everything he has, that he won’t lose his patience in record time and ruin his own plans. Because chances like this don’t come every day. They’re rare. They’re precious.

His phone buzzes.

Felix pulls it out of his pocket without urgency, unlocking the screen without even checking the sender. He taps the notification while absentmindedly eyeing the shelf in aisle two—they’re running low on overnight pads for elderly women.

Then he glances down at his phone.

A photo of a tiny, pink-and-black, leopard-print bikini stares back at him.

The sender? Chan.

[ Think this would look good on Lizzie? AHAHAH. Time to go shopping—I’m sure you don’t have any bikinis lying around. Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered. ]

Felix stares at the screen.

This world is so unfair.

Honestly, he thinks murder shouldn’t just be legal—it should be encouraged in cases like this.

***

Felix woke up at dawn, finished packing his suitcase (most of the stuff had been delivered straight to his door—courtesy of Chan’s online shopping spree), and had breakfast with a cup of scalding hot Americano and two biscuits. His stomach is a mess, his head wrapped in a fog, like he’s living someone else’s life.

For the tenth time, he checks that his passport is safely tucked into the front pocket of his bag. Then, restless, he sinks into the couch and waits.

His phone vibrates in his hands, sudden and sharp, like a cat bristling at an unexpected touch.

[ Come down. I’m waiting. ]

Felix bites his lip.

This is it. The very last moment he can turn back. The second he steps into that car, there’s no more room for second thoughts. He wonders if he should just cancel everything, tell Chan he can’t do it, crawl back into bed and pretend this was all just a fever dream.

But then he thinks about how much he’d hate himself for it. And, knowing Chan, he’d probably hate him too.

So he pulls the zipper on his suitcase closed for good and steps out of his apartment. Before shutting the door behind him, he glances one last time at his living room.

No turning back.

Whatever happens, happens.