ANGEL'S POV
The rooftop felt unusually quiet, like it was holding its breath. The sun hovered low, casting long shadows across the cement. Ryan stood in front of me, stiff and unreadable.
Then he asked the question.
"Do you like him?"
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart fluttered in panic. I opened my mouth to respond, but my throat felt dry.
And then—
"Angel?" a familiar voice called out.
I turned sharply.
Zayne.
He stood at the rooftop entrance, holding a water bottle and his sketchpad, brows furrowed as his eyes darted between Ryan and me.
Oh no.
His gaze landed on our hands. I hadn't even realized Ryan had reached out and held mine, fingers tense, not romantic—just desperate.
"Zayne, wait, it's not what it looks like!" I called, already moving toward him.
But Zayne only gave a soft smile, the kind that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Looks like I came at the wrong time," he said calmly, but his voice had that cold edge.
He turned and disappeared down the stairs.
I stood frozen.
"You shouldn't have done that," I told Ryan, yanking my hand away.
"I just needed to know," he murmured, looking down.
A sharp click echoed nearby.
I turned just in time to catch the tail end of someone hurrying out the stairwell—a phone in hand, blonde curls bouncing.
Sienna.
Oh. My. God.
SIENNA'S POV
I wasn't supposed to be up there.
But when I saw Ryan heading toward the rooftop after class, I followed.
I know that sounds creepy, but... I couldn't help it. I've liked him since the first day we sat beside each other in Software Engineering 101. He barely spoke to anyone, but something about the way he moved—calm, precise, like he didn't care what anyone thought—made my stomach twist.
I thought maybe he liked me back. I mean, I helped him during midterms, we studied a few times together. He even complimented my debugging skills once.
So when I saw him walk up there alone, I thought, Maybe he wants to think. Maybe I can go up and talk to him.
But what I saw shattered me.
He was holding Angel's hand.
Not just any girl. Angel.
The same girl who always looked lost in her sketchpad and was always surrounded by attention.
I pulled out my phone without thinking. I didn't mean to film it. I just... did.
And when he asked her if she liked Zayne?
It felt like something inside me broke.
So I uploaded it anonymously to the confessions page. I didn't think it would go viral. I didn't think everyone would know it was me.
But now they do.
And Ryan still doesn't see me.
He only sees her.
THE NEXT MORNING
The internet exploded.
The video hit every group chat, every private forum, even campus confession pages. Someone edited it with dramatic music.
"Do you like him?" replayed like it was some teen drama trailer.
My phone wouldn't stop buzzing.
Texts. DMs. Tags.
I shut it off and buried my face in my pillow.
Zayne hadn't texted.
My heart twisted.
He thought I betrayed him. And worst of all—I hadn't said no to Ryan. I hadn't said anything.
What if Zayne thought silence meant yes?
AT THE ART STUDIO
He was there. Painting.
I stepped inside quietly.
He didn't look at me at first.
"Hey," I said, my voice small.
Zayne paused, then wiped his hands with a rag.
"Hey."
"Zayne, I didn't know she was recording. And Ryan just—he doesn't talk about emotions. That's how he is. But I didn't say anything because... I was shocked."
He finally looked at me. "You don't owe me an explanation."
"But I want to give one. I choose you. I've always chosen you."
Zayne's lips twitched into a small smile. "You sure?"
I stepped closer. "Yes. I didn't say it that day, but I mean it. I like you, Zayne."
He nodded, then leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine.
"Then I guess we just need to ignore the internet."
ZAYNE'S POV
Angel.
Every time I look at her, I feel something that's more than butterflies. It's a storm. A calm one. A storm that feels like home.
It started with her smile.
Then her art. Her hands covered in paint. Her eyes lighting up when she talks about colors.
I fell.
And now I was in deep.
We went to the campus movie night that weekend, and she sat beside me, laughing at dumb animated jokes and squeezing my arm when she got excited.
Halfway through, I leaned over and whispered, "Would it be crazy if I asked you to be my girlfriend?"
She blinked. Then smiled.
"Only if I said no."
I held her hand. "I don't like you, Angel."
Her smile faltered. "Oh."
I leaned closer.
"I love you."
Her eyes glistened, and I swore, in that moment, I didn't care about my reputation, my last name, or anything else.
She was it.
She was the whole story.
RAY'S POV
When I saw that video trending, I literally choked on my protein bar.
"You saw it, right?" I asked James.
"You mean the soap opera rooftop scene? Yeah."
I tried not to laugh but failed.
"Man, I swear, Ryan's so emotionally constipated, I didn't think he even had feelings."
"Apparently he does. Just two years too late."
I felt a tiny flicker of satisfaction. Maybe now he'd back off.
Zayne was good for her. That was obvious. And Angel deserved someone who didn't need a viral video to realize he cared.
LUCY'S POV
"Emergency hangout. Angel is coming with us whether she likes it or not," I announced, slamming the door to Annie's dorm.
"Already got her favorite milkshake," Annie added.
We dragged Angel out of bed. Her face was pale, eyes hollow.
"I hate all of you," she grumbled.
"You're welcome," I replied cheerfully.
Two hours later, we were at a neon bar with glowing drinks and pink lights. Annie wore a sparkly top, I had my hair curled, and Angel... Angel looked like a goddess in eyeliner and a fitted dress.
"You're hot. Embrace it," I said, handing her a drink.
"Still hate you."
"Still worth it."
We laughed. We danced. For a while, things almost felt normal.
Until a guy tried to grope her and Annie nearly threw her purse at him.
Classic night out.
RYAN'S POV
I watched the video again. Alone. Sitting on the edge of my bed.
I watched the way she looked down after I asked. The hesitation.
And then Zayne appeared. Confident. Calm. Like the guy who already had her heart.
James had told me.
"You're falling for her, bro."
But it was too late. I had fallen quietly, secretly, and too damn late.
My phone buzzed.
I stared at her contact.
Then typed:
Ryan:Can we talk? Rooftop. Tomorrow. Just us.
I hit send.
Because even if I was late, I had to try.