Emilio Francine De Ramos

It has been weeks, and I'm exhausted from hoping things between Yuwan and me will return to how they used to be. Each day, I convince myself that change is on the horizon, but it never materializes.

Since that day at the mall with Yuwan and Heather, all I hear from him are stories about her, how funny she is, how smart, and how cute her selfies are. It's tiring, pretending I care. I can't even voice my opinion about it. If I did, Yuwan would probably ask if I have a problem with Heather, and that's a fight I'd rather avoid. So, I stay silent, letting him talk, wearing a mask of indifference. 

They grew closer when Heather offered to tutor Yuwan, even though she only takes one math subject. According to him, she's a 'math genius,' so I didn't bother questioning it. Clearly, he forgot that he once asked me to find him a tutor, though it seems he already found one, or maybe it's more accurate to say that someone made sure she became one.

We're sitting at a small wooden hut nestled in a quiet corner near our building, a space we've claimed as our own since freshman year, where we can be away from everyone. My laptop is open, and I'm trying to finish an assignment due tonight. Yuwan, of course, is glued to his phone, fingers flying over the screen as he chats with Heather.

"Emil, look at this! Heather sent me another selfie," Yuwan exclaims, excitement bubbling in his voice as he shoves his phone in my face. "Isn't she cute?"

I glance at the screen briefly. Heather's bright smile fills the display, her hair cascading perfectly around her face. Cute? Sure. But I'm not about to tell Yuwan that. Instead, I give a non-committal chuckle and turn my attention back to my laptop, forcing myself to concentrate on the words in front of me.

"Hey... Are you mad at me or something?" Yuwan suddenly asks, his voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his tone.

"Huh? No, why would you think I'm mad?" I reply, attempting to sound casual while my heart races at the unexpected question.

"It's just... you've been quiet and distant these past few days."

Look who's talking, you're the one who is distant. You've been with Heather constantly. I thought to myself, but I can't voice those thoughts. Instead, I just shrug. "It's nothing. I don't want to get between you and Heather, that's all."

Yuwan frowns, confusion knitting his brow. "Is that why you're pulling away? Emil, you're my best friend. You shouldn't feel like I'm abandoning you just because I'm spending time with her."

I stay silent. What could I say? That it hurts every time he chooses her over me?

"Okay, here's what we'll do," Yuwan says suddenly, sitting up straighter, determination shining in his eyes. "After class today, let's have dinner at our favorite cafe, just the two of us. We'll hang out before your shift starts. How does that sound?"

I glance at him, surprised. "You don't have to do that, Yuwan. It's really not a big deal."

"No, I want to. I've noticed it too; I've been distant lately. And I want to make it up to you. I want to spend time with my best friend," he insists earnestly, his eyes wide and sincere.

If I weren't staring at my laptop, Yuwan would probably have noticed how my cheeks flushed at his words. How does he always manage to make my heart race like this?

"Alright," I say, pretending to be reluctant. "If you insist, I guess I'll go. 4:20, okay? I'll be there. I might arrive early, but I know you still have class, so I'll wait for you at the cafe."

"Perfect," Yuwan says, grinning widely. He slings his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a side hug. "I promise, no matter what happens, I'll always choose my best friend."

Then, as if that wasn't enough to send me into a blushing mess, he ruffles my hair playfully.

I arrive at the cafe a little before 4. It's a cozy place, dimly lit with warm wooden interiors and the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. The same cafe where Yuwan and I had celebrated passing our midterms together last year. Back then, it felt like the two of us against the world.

I take a seat near the window and order a glass of water while waiting for Yuwan. Time seems to crawl.

I check my watch, 4:10. Maybe his class ran a bit late. By 4:30, I'm still waiting. My heart sinks a little, but I tell myself not to overthink it. Maybe he's on his way. I keep glancing at the door every time it swings open, hoping it's him.

By 5, my water glass is empty, and so is my patience. I pull out my phone and text him.

Me: "Hey, are you still coming?"

The minutes tick by without a response. I try not to feel hurt, but it's hard. The waiter comes by, and I tell him I'll wait a little longer.

By 5:30, I realized it was time to let go. He isn't coming. I stand up from my seat, leave enough cash to cover the time I wasted, and walk out of the cafe. The cold evening air stings more than usual, or maybe it's just the disappointment settling in my chest.

===================================

The next day, I head to our spot at the hut, pretending like nothing happened. I didn't sleep well, and my thoughts kept circling back to yesterday's incident.

Yuwan arrives, looking a little too cheerful. "Hey, Emil!" he calls out, plopping down on the bench beside me. I didn't respond; I just opened my laptop and acted like I was busy with something.

"You wouldn't believe what happened last night," Yuwan says suddenly, his voice laced with guilt. "Heather and I—" I look up, meeting his eyes. His expression shifts, and he realizes he forgot.

"Shit! Emil," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "I completely forgot about the cafe. I was with Heather, and we lost track of time. I'm so sorry."

I shake my head, forcing a smile that feels like it's cracking under pressure. "It's fine, Yuwan. Don't worry about it."

"No, it's not fine. I promised you, and I messed up again," he insists, frustration clear in his voice, and I can see the regret etched across his features.

"It's really okay. I get it—things happen," I reply, trying to brush it off.

"No, Emil. I've been a terrible friend lately. I didn't mean to make you feel like this," he says, his voice soft with regret. "I just... I guess I got so distracted that I forgot about meeting up at the cafe."

I want to be angry. I want to tell him how much it hurt, waiting, hoping he'd show up. But instead, I shrug it off, like I always do.

"It's okay, Yuwan. I told you, it's not a big deal."

He looks at me, his brows furrowed, like he knows I'm lying but doesn't know what to say. "H-how about we hang out after class today? Just us? I'll treat you somewhere, your pick."

I shake my head, feeling a lump forming in my throat. "I... I can't. I have work tonight. Maybe some other time."

Yuwan sighs, clearly disappointed. "I really am sorry, Emil. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't worry about it," I say, forcing another smile that feels more like a grimace.

But deep down, I wonder how many more promises he'll break before I stop believing him.

As the weeks drift by, I try to adjust to this altered version of our friendship, a version where Yuwan seems increasingly entangled with Heather while I'm left clutching memories of what we used to have. I tell myself it's just a phase, that soon enough things will balance out. We still hang out, sometimes grabbing a quick coffee or studying together, but even then, he's not really there. I see him glance at his phone with a smile, texting Heather about some inside joke or making plans for their next outing. It stings, but I swallow it, convincing myself it's normal. People change. Friendships evolve.

But some nights, lying in bed, the ceiling feels far too high, and I can't shake the ache for the Yuwan I once knew. I miss the friend who'd show up at my door at midnight with a sack of burgers, just because he felt like it. We'd sit on the curb, eating in silence or talking until the sun began to rise. I miss how he'd drag me to the arcade after class, ignoring my complaints about homework and responsibilities, insisting we needed a break. He always made me feel like I was his priority, his 'number one', a title we'd half-joked about but held close to our chests all the same.

Now, when he looks at me, there's a warmth that feels like an afterthought. I'm the friend he'll text only when Heather's not around, the one who stays in the background like a comfortable, old sweater. And I hate how jealous it makes me feel, this bitterness that seeps into every corner of my mind. I tell myself it's selfish, that Yuwan deserves to be happy. But it's hard to escape the feeling that I'm slowly losing him, piece by piece, to a version of him I don't recognize.

Sometimes, I imagine telling him, letting him in on the frustration boiling under the surface. But the words never come, buried under layers of hesitation and doubt. If he knew, what would he even say? That he'd try harder? That I was still important? The idea feels hollow, like an echo that no longer means anything. And maybe, deep down, I'm scared that if I bring it up, it'll only push us further apart, widening the rift I'm so desperate to ignore.

So, I play my part, laughing at his stories, nodding at all the right times, pretending I don't see the way his eyes light up when he talks about Heather. And maybe that's what our friendship is now. Perhaps I am destined to fade into the background, a supporting character in a story where Heather shines as the lead. And maybe that's just how it is now, how it has to be.