Taylor watches us as if balancing on a wire between politeness and bemusement. Her face wears a smile that's working overtime—teeth clenched slightly and eyebrows a little too high, as if auditioning for the role of a friendly acquaintance in a sitcom she never agreed to star in.
Dominic, meanwhile, looks like he's going through it.
He hunches slightly, eyes locked on the chips in front of him like salvation lives in the deep fried starch. His fingers fidget, lips pressed into a tight line as he pops a chip into his mouth so quickly you would think chewing made him invisible. When I catch the flush creeping up his ears, I nearly choke on air.
Seriously? Dominic Lachowski, the human incarnation of the devil, is shy?
I would have laughed if Taylor wasn't still glaring at me like I've committed treason through this seating arrangement.
Her eyes widen into the kind of silent shriek only best friends can pull off.
What is he doing here? she mouths subtly.
I shrug, channelling helpless confusion with just enough believable flair.
"Hey, Dominic," she greets him through her best fake smile.
He looks up slowly, nodding at her with all the emotional range of a stick.
Her voice pitched too high, she asks, "How you doing, mate?"
"Probably neutral," I chime in on his behalf, too smug.
Dominic glares at me through his peripheral vision, which only widens my amused grin.
And then like a slow motion tsunami, Edward walks in.
The smile on my face drops.
He wears the kind of grin that makes butterflies in my stomach forget how to land. When his eyes meet mine, my lungs betray me completely, hiccuping and gasping like they forgot their job mid-shift. I'm seconds away from squealing like someone who just met their favourite k-drama actor, but instead I force a casual, lopsided grin that hopefully says I'm cool, I'm chill, I didn't just implode inside.
Dominic notices.
His gaze shifts toward Edward like he's analysing a foreign object.
"Hey, Seong Jin," Edward says, tossing in a wink that sends my brain into chaos.
"Hi," I whisper because that's all my vocal cords manage.
Edward keeps his smile until his eyes land on Dominic. His brows wrinkle in confusion as he slides into his usual spot next to his girlfriend, his gaze flicking toward me with a silent question that practically screams What's going on here?
I pretend not to hear it. Or see it. Or exist, honestly.
Then Damien arrives, too cheerful for this grim corner of teenagers. He pauses when he sees his seat occupied by Dominic and frowns. Thankfully, he doesn't comment. He just hunts down a chair from another table, ignores the refusal they give him and just grabs the chair unbothered.
"Uh… wassup, man?" Damien greets.
Dominic gives another stiff nod, so emotionally distant I would think he was buffering if I didn't no any better. He dismisses the fact that everyone at this table is currently giving him a curious look and instead returns his focus to my chips to escape this social nightmare one salty bite at a time.
Taylor looks like she wants answers.
Both boys look at me like, Explain yourself, Seong Jin.
I purse my lips awkwardly and pretend the burger is suddenly the most interesting object in the universe.
Nothing to see here, folks.
Silence stretches across the table like an awkward and suffocating fog. I flip open my book with the kind of urgency that implies I want to escape this totally bizarre situation happening around me.
When Mr. Darcy, ever the emotionally constipated legend, starts acting like a royal twat again and throws a very passive-aggressive sentence at Elizabeth, I try to glance over at Dominic very subtly.
He reminds me of Darcy.
Still chewing the chips casually, his face remains unreadable and a blank canvas drenched in greyscale. Just… blank. No twitch of amusement, no flicker of discomfort, nothing. He looks like a marble statue. I'm weirdly starting to get used to it.
But doesn't it ever get exhausting being that emotionally dormant?
I could never maintain his level of composure.
Then Edward's voice pierces the calm.
"Of course I'm going to ask you to the prom. Who else would I ask, Taylor?"
I glance up just in time to catch my best friend beaming before she and Edward proceed to snog right in front of us. Full shameless lip lock.
Damien reacts like someone flashed daylight at a vampire. He gags and slaps both hands dramatically over his eyes, despite all the times he casually traumatised me with stories about what he and Faith get up to behind closed doors. His innocence act is just that—an act.
I whip my head away from the PDA and—bam.
Dominic's face is right there, inches from mine.
Wha… what the hell?
I suck in a breath.
My heart launches itself somewhere near my throat, and for half a second, my brain short circuits with a highly illegal thought: he's close enough to kiss.
Which. No.
Absolutely not.
I slam that rogue idea into a mental vault and padlock it shut. Kissing is not on the agenda. Especially not with Dominic, emotionally mummified, Lachowski.
Dominic leans in carefully lest any sudden movement trigger the kissing at the other end of the table. His voice is low and almost conspiratorial as he murmurs, "I don't see it."
I stare at him with my brows furrowed. "See what?"
He tilts his head slightly and flicks his gaze toward Edward, who is now laughing into Taylor's shoulder. They look like sickeningly they are rehearsing for a Valentine's Day ad campaign. "Why him?"
"The same reason you want Jodie," I say, keeping my voice level, though something tightens in my chest.
He snorts softly. "That's not the same."
"Yes, it is."
And it really, really is.
Because whether it's me watching Edward hand his heart to someone else, or Dominic pining after a girl who now suddenly speaks in aura charts, we are both hopelessly tangled up in people who probably won't ever choose us.
"You like her, I like him. Neither of them is likely to make out with us under a disco ball at the school prom. That's where the similarities start."
Dominic rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't make out under a disco ball."
"What are you guys whispering about?" Taylor asks.
I jump in surprise, forgetting that they were still here at the table.
Her eyes flick between Dominic and me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
I open my mouth, a cover story already rehearsing itself in my brain. But instead of letting it play out, I stammer, "Nothing."
She lifts a brow. "Nothing?"
"Yeah, it's, uh, nothing important. Just… boring science stuff." I say this with the stiffest grin I have ever attempted.
"Like?" Her brow arches higher, and in that moment, I swear I see the ghost of Sherlock Holmes rising behind her eyes.
I abandon ship immediately. "Like… Dominic will tell you."
Dominic freezes, eyes widened and mouth full, as if I just handed him a live grenade and told him to deal with it.
I tilt my head. "What science stuff were we whispering about?"
He chews slowly, painfully. Then swallows the food in his mouth. "Him."
Edward, still glowing with effortless charm, perks up. "Him?"
Him?
My eyes widen slightly in a panic.
Is he going to tell them the truth about what we were talking about?
All of a sudden, I sense a shift in the air.
Out of nowhere, Dominic's expression hardens, jaw setting as if prepping for a face off. He locks eyes with Edward, and the stare is so intense it could probably start a thunderstorm. Palpable tension simmers in the air. You could quite literally bottle the testosterone emitting from him and sell it to a merchant in a bottle.
Taylor notices. Her fork stalls, eyes narrowing slightly.
Damien leans back in his chair casual as ever, but with a grin forming as if he copped a front row seat for a drama he didn't pay for.
Edward, bless him, just furrows his brows, sensing the tension but not the origin.
I frown at Dominic, confused by his silent challenge.
What exactly is happening here?
So I do what any rational human would do. I bump his thigh with mine just enough of a nudge to tell him to dial it down.
His stare breaks, his eyes dropping to our legs.
Then slowly, up to me.
And for a heartbeat or two, I see something flicker in those usual shadows. A strange spark of some sort in his eyes. Not usual anger or boredom but… something warmer. Emotion. Actual emotion.
Which begs the question…
What are you hiding behind that perfectly constructed apathy, Dominic?
His voice is steady, laced in the kind of calm that feels suspiciously rehearsed. "Yeah. Him."
I stare at him worriedly.
Then, with the slow tilt of a head and eyes that lock directly into mine, he adds, "Isaac Newton. We were just discussing how his laws helped the human race understand forces. I mean, without the guy we wouldn't grasp practical… stuff."
I exhale a quiet sigh of relief, grateful for his deadpan improvisation. A hidden smile flickers onto my face, thankful. "Yeah. Stuff."
He echoes it. "Right. Stuff."
Then I make the mistake of meeting his eyes again.
And there is definitely something there. Not his usual dead eyed stare or casual indifference. Something… unguarded. Not bright exactly but definitely present. Like a shard of light accidentally sliced through his well built emotional fortress and forgot to patch itself.
I blink.
Okay, now I'm freaking out.
Because Lachowski doesn't do visible emotions. He buries them, launches them into emotional exile, packages them in sarcasm and hides them behind that brooding façade. So why—why—am I seeing this flash of something strange in his deep browns? A hint of… softness?
Whatever it is, it's unsettling. The same feeling one gets from seeing a vampire cry. It just doesn't compute.
Then a throat clears.
Taylor.
It snaps us both back to reality like a rubber band to the forehead.
I blink rapidly, suddenly aware that we have been locked in some kind of unexpected emotional eye contact.
Dominic shifts away, muscles stiff, gaze nowhere near me now.
I glance at his profile, still curious and unsure but he has already gone back to his neutral mode, like the emotional glitch didn't happen.
Then I catch Damien watching me with that damn grin, wiggling his eyebrows like a mischievous little gremlin. The silent implication is loud: I saw that.
I shake my head fiercely.
Nope.
No repeat romantic subplot here.
When my gaze meets Taylor, her eyes light up with that mischievous blaze—the same look she gets right before doing something legally questionable. I exhale in quiet defeat. And there goes my peace. It's officially downhill from here.
"So, Dominic," she begins sweetly, the aggression barely tucked behind her grin. "Seong Jin here was telling me he ran you over with his car the other day. How come you didn't avenge yourself with your toy lightsabre?"
Dominic blinks like she just spoke in an alien dialect. "With my what?"
I groan, low and mortified.
If I pinch myself, maybe I'll wake up in a parallel universe where this conversation never happened.
He turns to me, perplexed and slightly accusing. "What is she talking about?"
"The Star Wars thing," I mutter, waving my hand vaguely. "Just ignore her. In fact, you can just pretend she doesn't even exist. Please. Taylor is unfortunately… not entirely stable in the mental department. We are looking to admit her into an asylum as soon as possible."
"Could it be," Taylor presses, eyes gleaming, "that you couldn't bring yourself to hurt him?"
And as if summoned from the flames of chaos, Dominic deadpans, "I mean… he's Asian."
"See!" My head whips toward Taylor, voice climbing with indignation. "I told you that comment he made before was lowkey kinda racist."
The rest of the table erupts into chuckles.
When I glance up at Dominic with a glower, his lips are twitching, barely holding back a smirk. He's gawking at me with the kind of amusement that burns. He's laughing at me. With his eyes. I scowl so hard I feel my cheekbones stretch.
Fuelled by petty rage, I yank my nearly empty lunchbox away from him like a parent confiscating candy from a hyped toddler. But then, I notice my burger. Bitten. In places I definitely haven't bitten before.
My eyes narrow suspiciously. "You ate my burger."
His smirk deepens.
Without missing a beat, he reaches over, swipes two more chips and shoves them in his mouth vaingloriously.
"No shame!" I hiss.
"Why are you sitting with us today?" Edward asks him with that curious furrow in his brows.
"Realised you cannot stay away from your soulmate anymore?" Damien grins, chiming in with no mercy.
"He-yo!" Taylor hollers, smacking her hand into his with a thunderous high five.
I scowl, mentally retreating into the imaginary haven of the library where no one publicly links me to Dominic like we're a couple destined for romantic tropes. Honestly, I would take zombie-infested regency England with Elizabeth and Moody Darcy over whatever this social ambush is.
"He's not my soulmate," Dominic replies wryly.
His blank expression makes it clear he will not be entertaining the nonsense.
I blink at him blankly because… same.
"Oh, no," Taylor clarifies with the confidence of someone who absolutely should not clarify, "pretty sure Damien was talking about you and Edward with the way you were staring him down mere minutes ago."
"What?" Dominic mutters, perplexed.
"I still stand by my theory that you're totally gay."
"I'm not gay," Dominic says dryly, not even pretending to be insulted.
He throws me a sideways glance, mildly suspicious.
I give him a strained grin that says, Welcome to the Taylor Experience. It's loud, it's weird and it never ends.
Edward, eyebrows raised, stares at his girlfriend. "Why would you pair your own boyfriend with another guy?"
Taylor shrugs and gazes skyward like she's asking the gods for inspiration. Then her eyes glaze over which is always a bad sign.
I brace myself.
"I don't know," she hums dreamily. "I've just always had this fantasy where you're making out with some guy in black spunky spandex. It's hot as fuck."
Silence.
We all stare at her incredulously.
I need a refund on this conversation.
She needs to really take her meds because this is what happens when she doesn't—pure chaos.
"You're sick," Edward whispers, shaking his head like he's disturbed but the grin tugging at his lips says otherwise.
"See?" I jab a finger at Dominic, looking at him. "Told you she's insane."
He quirks a brow, noncommittal. "Yeah… the evidence is stacking."
"Excuse you, I am not insane," Taylor protests with faux offence.
"She's pathologically psychotic," Damien says helpfully. "Don't downplay her condition like that." And with perfect comedic timing, he and Taylor high five again, cackling like two unsupervised children.
I'm surrounded by lunatics. Actual lunatics.
Dominic pushes back his chair with a sharp screech that slices through the chatter like a needle to a balloon. His abruptness jerks all heads at the table toward him, conversation dying mid-sentence. He stands, stiff and unreadable, but then his eyes flick down to me and just for a heartbeat, something breaks through.
Anxiety. Real, raw and quick.
And then he turns and walks—no, bolts—out of the canteen without another word. No eye contact. No sarcastic quip. Not even a reluctant nod of acknowledgement. Just… gone.
I watch his retreating figure disappearing between tables, people parting instinctively like he's radioactive. My chest prickles, concern blooming like an unwanted flower. I have to force myself to stay in my chair and not follow after him worriedly.
And the part that irritates me the most?
He didn't say goodbye.
I get that he prides himself on being emotionally elusive, that his version of affection is biting sarcasm but leaving like that? After eating half my lunch? Rude.
"What was that all about?" Taylor asks, one brow raised, eyes narrowing in that way she does when she smells drama.
I blink slowly at her, still processing what just occurred. "No idea," I murmur, shoulders shrugging.
Then Edward leans back and smirks. "So… he's the guy you have a crush on?"
I shoot him a look so flat it could be used to level drywall. "I don't like him anymore. That was like three years ago. Are you guys ever gonna let me live that down?"
Damien, full of chaotic energy and zero mercy, grins. "Probably not."
Taylor snorts. "Definitely not."
I groan, resisting the urge to shove my burger into their smug faces. Why must they make my past regrets the lunch table's favourite entertainment? But even as they continue talking amongst themselves, my eyes drift back to the canteen doors worriedly.
Why did he leave like that?
"So, not to sound like a detective," Edward starts, tone light but probing, "but why is Dominic suddenly orbiting our lunch table? I mean, I've known you for a while now, Seong Jin, and I don't think I have ever seen you voluntarily share chips with someone, let alone Dominic."
"What are you talking about?" I muse indignantly. "I share my food with Damien all the time."
"True," Damien inserts on my behalf. "He does share his food with me… sometimes. Not all the time."
Everyone goes quiet, except Taylor who chuckles into her juicebox. "Yeah but why the fuck were you sitting over here with Dominic?"
I blink. Once. Twice.
My brain short circuits for half a second trying to come up with a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve the words "blackmail," "romantic espionage," or "sketchbook".
"You two have gotten kinda cozy lately," Edward adds, head cocked slightly with that boyish curiosity that makes him somehow both charming and infuriating. "I mean, he used to glare at anyone who even breathed the same air as him and now he's stealing your burger?"
"Well…" I clear my throat and force a smile. "We've got a weird arrangement."
Edward raises a brow. "Weird how?"
"Uh… I'm his… emotional service human."
Taylor wheezes into her drink.
Damien slaps the table laughing. "Like a dog?"
I avert my gaze awkwardly, blushing violently. "No, like a human."
Edward just raises both brows. "So you don't like him?"
The look he gives me is unfair… criminal, even. His eyes, those damn sparkling blue vortexes, as he asks me a seemingly innocent question.
"No."
"So… if you don't like him," he says, voice softer now, "then who do you like?"
My internal systems fumble.
The blush storms in immediately, betraying me faster than a traitorous sidekick. I try—oh God, I try—to play it cool. To resist the gravitational pull of his ocean glazed stare. But how do you not combust when someone you like looks at you in a way that makes you feel extremely breathless under their unwavering stare? It feel like he's trying to read my mind.
He's not making this any easier!
And then Taylor happens.
"What the shit?" she blurts, volume unforgiving. Her gaze swings to me so hard I almost duck. "Wait, you actually like someone and didn't tell me?"
There's her boyfriend. Sitting right here.
If I could crawl inside the burger wrapper and live there, I would.
"So when I asked you if you had a boyfriend at the gym, you decided to deny it because it was technically a crush?" she demands, eyes wide with betrayal and delight.
Well, yes. He is your boyfriend after all so…
"I knew that deep voiced animé boy crap wasn't legit. My nipples were right. Always trust your nips, Taylor."
Edward blinks at her.
"I mean, it is like clockwork," Damien says with a philosophical sigh. "Seong Jin catches feelings like seasonal allergies."
I throw a deadpan stare his way.
"And they seemingly vanish right after your birthday," Taylor adds. "It's freaky, honestly."
"Who is it?" Edward presses, now looking intrigued.
You.
It's literally you, Edward.
But I snap upright and say with the commitment of a fugitive, "I'm never telling."
And I truly mean that.
Cross my heart and hope to die.
If the news about Edward being my crush ever reach their ears, I swear to the heavenly supreme being, I will personally launch him into the stratosphere with a high velocity punch. He's the only other person who knows about the wicked feelings I have for my best friend's boyfriend. If it ever comes out, you can bet my sweet arse it won't be from the horse's mouth.
Edward's grin turns downright devilish, his elbow propped on the table. "Why won't you tell us who it is?" he muses, faux innocent. "Is it someone at this table?"
My soul sprints.
"No," I say too fast, voice an octave higher than legally acceptable.
He narrows his eyes like a predator who's found the scent. "Is it Damien?"
"Ew."
"Wha'chu mean, ew?"
"Is it me?" Edward's tone is deliberately casual, but the way he raises his brow makes my pulse stumble like it's drunk on embarrassment.
"I—what—absolutely not," I say vehemently. "I don't like anyone at this table. Don't be weird."
Taylor gasps dramatically and says in jest, "It's you, isn't it, Eddie?"
I nearly knock over my juice trying to deny it, palms sweaty and cheeks burning.
Edward chuckles.
Taylor lets out an exaggerated groan, flopping forward onto the table like I've betrayed the sacred oath of best friendship.
"Oh, come on, Seong Jin," she whines, her scowl deepening into dramatic dismay. "I'm your best friend! You have to tell me. How else are we supposed to orchestrate a borderline illegal plan to get you two together?"
I open my mouth and then shut it again.
Her eyes burn with determination.
Then, for the tiniest fraction of a second, I glance at Edward.
He's watching me with that familiar tilt in his head, curiosity blooming behind those oceanic eyes that have no business being that beautiful. And like a cruel little daydream on loop, I picture it—what if I'd told him before the winter formal? Before Taylor swooped in and confessed her feelings to him? Would he have said yes? Would we have danced under string lights and awkward chaperone surveillance?
His brow lifts.
I flinch, snapping my gaze down to my hands, which have tangled themselves into a nervous pretzel in my lap. Reality storms back in.
Girl code.
That sacred, permanent rulebook permanently imprinted in my head in blood by my mum. Taylor ditched popularity for me. She has had my back in every war and emotional battlefield. To betray her like this is not just wrong—it's villain origin story territory. I would basically be a romcom antagonist. And that's not who I am. Not who I want to be.
Taylor, blissfully unaware of the emotional tornado crashing through my head, continues, "We could call it something like operation… I don't know… Mission Improbable? Or maybe Fifty Shades of Rejection? No, wait… You've Got Sadness? Something catchy like that."
I scrunch my nose. "Those were all… remarkably terrible."
"No, they weren't. They were creative," she argues, then turns to Edward with an expectant grin. "Back me up, Eddie."
Edward grimaces so hard his face folds in on itself. "Sorry, babe… but yeah. They were tragic. No offence."
"I will never understand why people say that. All of the offence was taken," Taylor huffs, arms crossed in exaggerated pain. "Honestly, sometimes I think you're more in love with Seong Jin than you are with me."
Wait, what?!
Edward laughs flustered, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to her cheek. "Don't be ridiculous. You're the only one for me."
Be strong, Seong Jin. Be strong. I repeat it internally like a prayer. Meanwhile my heart is over here juggling knives blindfolded.
With a pout, Taylor turns to plant a kiss on his lips.
"Well," I announce dramatically, standing up and gesturing to the display of romance as if it's burning my retinas, "I'm heading to the bathroom to puke out my soul. May your PDA haunt someone else's lunch."
"Oh yeah, me too." Damien shoves back his chair. "I'm out."
"No way you're both leaving cause I gave him a light peck," Taylor exclaims incredulously. "There are worse things I could've done."
"Which is why we're leaving before it gets to that point," Damien says.
I give her a strained smile, but my brain is already trying to calculate how many hours she's spent alone with him. Have the maybe done more than just kissing? What about when she invites him over to her house? Do they ever border over to more than steamy make outs? Possibly. Would she tell me if they had? Would I want her to?
My lunchbox goes into my bag with a quiet thump. I tuck my zombie novel under my arm and just as I'm preparing to flee—
"Peace." Damien disappears with smooth grace.
I practically sprint after him.
Get me out.
Get me far, far out.