Classes were nearly over, and I couldn’t help but glance at the bracelet Matt had given me. A sudden realization hit me—we shouldn’t be fighting like this.

When the bell rang, I went straight to Matt's desk, my heart racing. “Matt, can we talk?” I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.

He looked at me, then nodded. “You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” he told Stephanie, who was sitting beside him.

Something panged in my heart again. What do you mean you’ll catch up? Were you walking her home this whole time we couldn’t go together?

We walked outside and found a bench by the open sky, the wind blowing softly as the sun dipped lower.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

He mirrored my words. “I’m sorry too.”

Our eyes met, and in that moment, I felt something deep stir inside me—whether it was longing or something I had been missing for too long, I couldn’t say.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he continued, my chest tightening.

“I’m sorry for being harsh with my words.”

Matt turned his face toward the setting sun, the golden light casting shadows on his features. His hair glowed like the sun itself.

“Do you remember that day we went up to the mountains?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, my heart skipping a beat. He smiled faintly. “I’m working at a coffee shop now. The one Stephanie works at... I’m saving up to go to university.”

I blinked, trying to piece things together. “So that’s why you said you’d catch up with her?”

“Yeah.” He paused, looking down.

“When did you start?”

“Two weeks ago.”

We fell into a quiet lull, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Then, almost as if I had to say it, I spoke up. “I hope you’ll save up. If you need help, I can—”

“I’m sorry, Livi,” Matt cut me off, his voice serious, “but I think we should stop.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“About us,” he said, his voice distant. “We should stop.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “Matt, if this is about last time, I swear I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was out of line.”

“This isn’t about that,” he said, his voice soft but firm.

“Then what is it?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

He stayed silent, and I felt the weight of every second that passed.

“Matt, please. Tell me what I did wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quietly. “It’s just... I think it’s not the right time for me to be in a relationship.”

But we haven’t even started. You never asked me to be your girlfriend.

“But I won’t get in the way,” I pleaded, my voice breaking.

“You are in the way,” he said, his tone rising. My eyes widened in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning away. “I have to go.”

I sat there, feeling the heat of his words linger. My head dropped, unable to face him, as the pain twisted inside me. “I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice almost a whisper. “I have to go.”

Matt’s perspective

I wanted to say something more, to utter anything at all, but the words eluded me. My heart throbbed with pain, caught in the tension between the desperate desire for her to stay and the painful truth that I had to let her go. My hands moved instinctively, reaching out to brush her hair, but as my hands neared, they trembled and pulled back, caught in the weight of a silent farewell.

I started walking away. The seconds dragged on. 

“Do you like her?” she stood up and suddenly asked, the question escaping before I could stop it.

I said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, tears welling up in my eyes. Without thinking, I started walking fast, hoping the speed would dry the tears.

“Wait—” I heard behind me, and before I knew it, Melanie grabbed my arm, stopping me.

I didn’t turn to face her. “What?” I asked coldly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I understand. I really do. I—” she began, her voice full of emotion, but I refused to look at her.

“Can we still be friends?” she asked, her tone soft. “I don’t want to lose our connection. If I had known—”

I turned my face away. “Sure. But could you let me go now? I’m late for work.”

She let go of my hand, her voice barely a whisper. “Okay. Take care.”

“You too,” I replied, my voice hollow. “See you later.”

And with that, I walked away. Each step heavier than the last.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months passed in a blur. I’d heard that Matt had to drop out of the Music Club to take on a part-time job, and it felt like a knife to the chest. I couldn’t bring myself to stay in the club anymore, either—seeing him, hearing his absence, the weight of it all became too much. The Music Club, once a place of comfort, was now filled with ghosts of things I couldn’t have.

But I still cared.

I found myself questioning everything. What made him take the job? Was his family struggling? Was that why he wasn’t around, why he wasn’t the same Matt I once knew? My mind swirled with questions I had no answers to. I wanted to help him, to find a way to make it better, but I couldn’t even figure out where to start. I think, deep down, I was still in denial—pretending that maybe things could go back to what they were, even though everything had shifted.

So, I threw myself into the Karate Club instead, letting it consume my thoughts and energy. I needed the distraction, the focus. It became my new normal, my way of shutting out the ache that still lingered in the background.

The school year was almost over, and the festival was just around the corner. It should’ve felt like a time for nostalgia, a time for reminiscing about the moments that defined the past, but all I felt was emptiness. The memories I once cherished seemed distant now, like faded photographs, fading further with each passing day.

This year’s festival was no different. I found myself standing with Ephraim and Dianne, both of them dressed up, their energy contagious, but I was too caught up in my own thoughts to fully engage.

“Dianne, how’s your big brother doing? I haven’t seen him in ages, he doesn’t even come to family dinners anymore,” I asked, my voice holding a note of longing I didn’t quite intend.

“Oh, you miss big brother now?” Dianne teased, her smile playful.

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. “Hhhhmmmm, not really,” I said, trying to brush it off, but she gave me that sly smile, the one that always made me feel like she saw right through me.

“Hhhmmmmm,” she murmured, her grin widening. “What?”

“Nothing,” I muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Ephraim, always the one to notice when something was off, turned to me with a concerned look. “Uh, Mel?” he asked, his voice gentle, but the worry clear in his eyes. He pointed toward the stage, where the night’s performers were about to be introduced. “I thought Matt stopped coming to the Music Club?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, my heart sinking. “Maybe they asked him to come perform tonight.” My voice sounded hollow, as if I didn’t quite believe the words I was saying.

Then, they appeared on stage: Stephanie, with Matt standing beside her. My breath caught in my throat. I froze, the world around me becoming a blur. I couldn’t explain what I felt in that moment—anger, confusion, disbelief, maybe all of it mixed together, suffocating me. They stood there so effortlessly, so at ease with each other, and it felt like everything I’d tried to bury came rushing back in a single, crushing wave.

The music started—“Everything” by Michael Bublé—and as their voices harmonized, something inside me snapped. It was too much. Ephraim, noticing the tension in my face, didn’t hesitate. “Okay, let’s go to the stalls and eat!” he said, trying to steer me away from the stage.

But I couldn’t look away. The scene before me was unbearable. I couldn’t bear it anymore—seeing them together, so effortlessly perfect. I had no words, only a hollow ache in my chest, growing with every note they sang.

As we were hanging out by the noodles area I told them.

Ah, got it! Let’s shift the setting to a school festival, which definitely changes the vibe a bit. Here’s a refined version that reflects the school atmosphere and the complicated feelings Melanie is grappling with:

“Hey, I’ll just grab a cotton candy. I’ll be right back!”
‘You want me to come with you?’ Dianne asked, glancing up from the group of classmates she was chatting with.
“No, I’ll be quick!” I said, already stepping away from the crowd. The school festival was a lot of fun, but sometimes I just needed a break from the noise.
“Alright,” she said, turning back to her friends without hesitation.

The school grounds were alive with activity—booths set up everywhere, the sound of laughter and music drifting in the air, the smells of food mixing with the sugary sweetness of carnival snacks. But all I could think about was the way this place always seemed to bring memories flooding back—memories of him.

Knox.

He was a year older than me, and we’d spent many school festivals together when we were kids. He was like an older brother to me—always there to make sure I didn’t get lost, always teasing me in a way that made me roll my eyes but secretly love it. I could almost hear his laugh in the air, could almost see his bright grin as we’d race through the games and booths, trying to beat each other at everything. It was so easy back then.

But that was before things changed. Before high school. Before life got more complicated.

As I walked past the booths, I thought back to last year’s festival. Knox had been there—of course he had. But it wasn’t like before. He’d barely had time to hang out. I was starting to see the space between us growing, and it was hard to deny that we weren’t kids anymore.

I snapped myself out of those thoughts as I reached the cotton candy stand. The sweet, sticky smell hit me, reminding me of simpler times. As I waited in line, a familiar voice pulled me out of my head.

“One blue cotton candy, please.”

My heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Matt.

I couldn’t help it. My stomach tightened, and I felt the air between us thicken. Even after all this time, hearing his voice still affected me in ways I didn’t understand. It had been a while since we’d talked, and I wasn’t sure what to expect now. But when I finally turned around, there he was—standing a few feet away, with that casual smile he always wore. The same smile that had once made my heart race.

“Livi.” His voice was a little softer this time, like he wasn’t sure how to say it.

“Oh hey,” I said, forcing the words out. The smile on my face felt more like a mask than anything else. He handed me the blue cotton candy, and I took it without thinking.

“For you,” he said, his eyes catching mine briefly. There was something unreadable in them.

Well, that’s out of the blue, I thought. The last time I’d seen Matt, everything had felt strained between us. There were too many unspoken words, too many moments left hanging in the air. I tried to keep things light. “It’s free cotton candy, so I will gladly accept it.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I could see the exhaustion there, the same kind of tiredness I’d seen in him before. “How are you?” he asked, like we hadn’t seen each other for months.

“I’m okay. You?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t hear the tremor in my voice. He looked like he was holding something back, like he always did. I could tell by the way his eyes lingered on me, searching for something that wasn’t there anymore.

“I’m okay,” he said, but his words were empty. His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. I knew he was lying, just like I was. We both were.

A long silence passed between us, hanging there like an unsolved problem. I didn’t know what to say. There were too many things left unsaid. We were standing there, both of us pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

“You look tired,” I said, finally breaking the silence. The words felt clumsy, but they were the only ones I had.

He let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Yeah, I’ve been working part-time still at that cafe. You know, trying to save up. It’s… a lot.”

I nodded. I knew. It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned it. He always seemed to be busy, always seemed to be away doing something else. Part of me missed him—missed us—but I couldn’t ignore the way things had shifted between us.

“Uhm, I have to go,” Matt said, breaking the awkward pause. It wasn’t like he was in a hurry, but I could tell that staying there was just… uncomfortable for both of us.

There he goes again. Leaving. Always leaving. It stung more than I was willing to admit.

“Sure. Take care,” I said, keeping my tone steady. I didn’t know if I meant it or if I was just saying it out of habit.

Matt gave me a small nod, his eyes lingering on me for a second too long, like he was trying to say something he couldn’t. But then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd of students milling about the festival.

I stood there, still holding the cotton candy, watching the bright pink and blue fluff slowly start to melt in my hands. I didn’t even care about it anymore. The sugar didn’t matter. What mattered was the feeling of unfinished things that lingered in the space between us. Things that would never get said. Things I didn’t know how to move past.

As I stood there, lost in thought, I found myself wishing that things could go back to how they were, back when everything felt easier, like the school festival was a place where nothing could go wrong. Back when I was just a kid who could count on her friends, and maybe… maybe just maybe, there was something that could’ve been between Matt and me. But that was before everything changed.

The music from the festival played on in the background, and I couldn’t help but feel like a part of me had been left behind in that crowd of students, walking away with no intention of coming back.