The sun came out like it was showing off.
After a week of low skies and moody winds, the sky finally remembered it could be blue. Birds were loud, the campus lawn smelled like wet grass, and students spilled out of their buildings like someone had yelled "freedom."
Gun was the first to suggest it.
"Bonfire night," he said, swinging his arm around Peat's shoulder. "Beach. Music. Snacks. Chaos. It's exactly what we need."
Peat gave him a look. "We?"
"Don't start with the we slander. You know you need to get out."
"I got out. I went to class."
Gun raised both brows. "Wow. What a thrilling adventure."
Peat rolled his eyes, but didn't pull away.
They weren't the only ones dragged into it. Gun had already added Mix to the group chat, then Bave, then Jack. Arm was last.
He hadn't responded.
---
"Tell me again why we're doing this?" Bave muttered, adjusting her sunglasses as she stepped off the shuttle van onto the sand.
"Because it's free therapy," Gun said, brushing sand off his jeans.
Tarn arrived five minutes later, sleeves rolled and confidence intact. He handed Mix a bottle of something cold and fizzy. "No caffeine this time. Trying not to overdose you."
Mix blinked. "You brought me a drink?"
"Don't act surprised. That's my love language."
"I thought sarcasm was your love language."
"That too."
They stood close, not touching, but the air between them was charged.
Arm, meanwhile, was leaning on the hood of the van, watching them. Not speaking. Not joining. Just... watching.
Gun clapped his hands. "Alright, people. Teams. We're building rafts. Or boats. Or floating disasters. I don't know. You get thirty minutes and whatever you can find around here."
Everyone groaned.
"Team assignments?" Peat asked.
"Random. But also evil," Gun grinned. "Mix, you're with Arm and Jack. Bave, you're with me and Tarn. Peat gets to be the judge because he's beautiful and easily bribed."
Bave looked like she wanted to switch. Jack was already complaining.
"I don't even know how to swim," he muttered, dragging a half-deflated inner tube out of the van.
"You're training to dance onstage under strobe lights," Bave snapped. "You'll survive."
Mix didn't say anything. Just looked at Arm, who was already walking toward the waterline, dragging wood scraps and ropes with him.
Jack followed. "He always like this?"
Mix gave a tight smile. "Depends on the day."
---
They worked in uneven silence. Arm was tying knots like his life depended on it. Jack tried to help, but mostly tangled the ropes. Mix was left cutting, holding, adjusting, not speaking unless he had to.
It should've been unbearable.
It wasn't.
It was heavy. But not breaking.
"Here," Arm said, holding out a strip of fabric. "For padding."
Mix took it. Their fingers brushed for a second too long.
Jack cleared his throat. "So... who wants to name our boat?"
No one answered.
---
On the other side of the beach, Gun and Tarn were arguing about sail angles while Bave quietly stacked the most symmetrical pieces she could find. She wasn't talking much, and Tarn had noticed.
"You okay?" he asked, voice lower now.
Bave kept arranging. "Jack forgot my birthday last year."
Tarn paused. "Damn."
"Didn't even text. Said he was 'off-grid.' But someone tagged him in a dance video twelve hours later."
"Double damn."
She shrugged. "So. I'm fine."
He didn't believe her, but he also didn't push.
---
Back by the water, the boats were shaping into floatable chaos.
Mix stood back, brushing sand off his palms. "It might actually work."
Arm nodded. "Might."
Jack was already shirtless, testing the water with a toe. "If I die, tell Bave I love her."
"She's right there," Arm said, deadpan.
"I want it to be dramatic."
Mix let out a quiet laugh. It surprised him. It surprised Arm too.
The sound was small, but real.
Jack looked between them, curious, but didn't ask.
---
As the sun dipped lower, the water glowed soft gold. Bave and Gun's boat capsized first. Jack's floated just long enough to be hilarious before crumbling into driftwood.
Peat declared no winners. Only survivors.
Tarn offered Mix his towel. "You're soaked."
"You're not even wet."
"I know. I'm very clever."
Mix didn't take the towel, but he didn't move away either.
Arm saw it. All of it.
Still, he didn't look angry. Just... tired.
---
Later that evening
The fire started slow.
Gun struggled with the matches for a full five minutes before Bave rolled her eyes and lit it with a flick of her thumb. "You're lucky I don't let things burn for fun," she muttered, stepping back as the flames took.
Everyone gathered close. Not for warmth it wasn't cold but because darkness felt easier to face with a fire in front of you.
Jack passed around marshmallows. He was still wet from his brief shipwreck moment and kept wringing out his shirt like a sad puppy. Tarn played music low from a portable speaker indie acoustic stuff with enough melancholy to make Peat sigh out loud.
"I feel like this is the kind of night where people make bad decisions," he said.
"Or good ones with bad consequences," Mix replied, not really joking.
They sat in a loose circle. Conversations tangled and untangled. Gun made loud jokes. Tarn laughed too loud at one of them. Jack kept glancing at Bave like he wanted to apologize without doing the work.
And Arm sat across from Mix, silent.
Not hostile. Just watching.
Mix avoided his eyes, but it was getting harder.
---
"You ever think about how weird it is," Tarn said, staring into the fire, "that some of the people you care about most... you almost never say the right thing to?"
No one responded right away.
Then Peat, quietly: "That's because we wait too long. By the time we're ready to say it, the moment's gone."
Gun nudged him gently. "Was that shade?"
Peat shrugged.
Jack cleared his throat. "Sometimes it's not about timing. It's about guts."
Bave raised an eyebrow. "You got something to say, Jack?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. "Nope."
"Didn't think so."
---
The tension sat there, just beneath the music and flame, pulsing under the surface like a bruise waiting to be pressed.
Mix got up after a while. Walked a few paces away, closer to the water. Not far. Just far enough to breathe.
Tarn followed him.
"Hey," he said, hands in his pockets. "You okay?"
Mix didn't turn. "You always ask me that."
"Yeah. And I never get a real answer."
A pause.
Mix's voice came low. "I don't think I know how to answer you."
Tarn stepped closer. "You could try."
He hesitated. Then: "I liked someone. A long time ago. And he ruined it before I could tell him."
"You still like him?"
Mix gave a tired smile. "That's the worst part."
Tarn's voice was steady. "Do you want him to fix it?"
Mix shook his head. "I don't think he knows how."
"Then maybe you stop waiting."
Mix finally looked at him.
The silence that followed didn't feel sharp this time. Just... full.
---
Back at the fire, Bave stood up, brushing sand off her jeans. She walked away without a word.
Jack hesitated, then followed.
He caught up to her near the edge of the dunes. "Hey. Can we just... talk?"
She didn't stop walking. "About what? The fact that you're basically dating your fanbase now?"
Jack winced. "It's not like that."
"It feels like that."
"I'm just trying to chase something," he said. "This chance I got it could change everything. I need to focus."
"And I'm a distraction."
"That's not what I meant."
"It's what you said."
He reached for her wrist. She didn't pull away, but she didn't soften either.
"I miss you," he said.
Bave stared at him. "You miss the version of me that didn't ask questions."
Then she turned and walked away.
---
Peat was the one who finally stood and walked toward Arm, who had moved off to the side of the group and sat with his knees drawn up.
"You good?" he asked.
Arm glanced at him. "You ever wish you could just... delete people from your memory?"
Peat chuckled. "All the time. Doesn't work though."
"No," Arm said. "It doesn't."
He looked out over the water, then down at the fire.
"I think I broke something I wasn't supposed to touch."
Peat tilted his head. "You want to fix it?"
Arm looked at Mix, still standing with Tarn by the edge of the waves.
"I think it's too late."
---
They left the beach late.
Everyone quiet. Not tense, just tired in that way only emotions could cause. The van ride back was dim and wordless. Headphones in. Heads against windows. Thoughts everywhere.
When they got to the dorms, everyone peeled off with soft goodnights and unsaid things still hovering behind them.
In the room, Arm dropped his bag and paused.
Mix was already half undressed, hoodie tossed on the chair.
He didn't say anything.
Arm spoke first, voice quiet.
"I saw you. With Tarn."
Mix didn't look at him. "Did you?"
"You looked... like you could breathe."
Mix nodded slowly. "Yeah. He doesn't make me feel like I need to apologize for existing."
Arm winced.
Mix turned to face him fully. "You did. For a long time."
"I know."
"I don't think I can go back to pretending."
Arm nodded, jaw tight. "I don't want you to."
But he didn't move closer.
And Mix didn't wait.
He pulled the covers over himself, back turned, voice soft.
"I'm tired, Arm."
Arm stood there for a long time.
Then sat.
Then lay down, just across the room, the distance between their beds wider than ever..