Summer's POV
"I'm in love with you, Liam," I exhaled sharply, the words tumbling out after being bottled up for ages. My heart pounded like a drum, and my fingers trembled, clutching the edge of the dining table as if it could anchor my swirling emotions. My body had betrayed my feelings long before my mouth dared to speak.
"I can't love you right now, dear. I'm in love with someone else," Liam replied. My heart twisted, a sharp, searing pain piercing through my chest, as if a spear had struck me. My knees wobbled, and I pressed a clammy hand against my ribs, trying to steady my ragged breathing.
"Ouch, I thought you were single," I said, my voice cracking as I gripped the table tighter, my knuckles whitening under the strain. My shoulders slumped forward, heavy with the weight of rejection.
"Yes, I'm single, but I'm still in love with my ex," Liam said. A sigh of relief escaped my lips, soft and shaky, as my tense grip on the table loosened slightly, my fingers uncurling like wilted petals.
"She's your past. Why don't you let me show you what real love is?" I said, pushing myself upright from where I'd leaned against the table. My spine straightened, and I took a bold step forward, my heels clicking sharply on the wooden floor, my chin lifted with newfound confidence despite the nervous flutter in my stomach.
"I can't. She was a gem—hard to find, easy to lose, hard to forget," Liam said. His words hit like a cold gust, and my confident stride faltered, my feet scuffing softly against the floor.
"Oh, I see. Sorry for bothering you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My head bowed, my hair falling like a curtain over my face, hiding the sting of disappointment as my hands fidgeted, twisting the hem of my shirt.
"Nice job, Summer! Your acting skills were top-notch, if you ask me," Queenth said, her hands clapping enthusiastically, the sound sharp and echoing in the room. Her sister joined in, their applause a warm contrast to my sinking mood.
"Frances, what do you think?" I asked, turning to her. She didn't clap, her hands resting calmly in her lap.
"I didn't notice much since I was playing Liam, but I feel your body movements are a bit excessive. Try toning them down to make it seem more natural," she said, her tone as calm as a still lake, carrying every bit of insight I needed at that moment.
Still trying to catch my breath, someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder. I turned around, startled—and there he was. Fred. Standing there in his casual hoodie, holding a small box in both hands like it was something precious.
"Hey," I stammered, a little breathless from both the practice and the surprise.
"Are you surprised?" he asked with a sheepish grin, the dimple on his left cheek peeking out.
"Yeah... how did you know I was here?" I asked, blinking against the soft breeze that suddenly swept into the room.
"One of your friends told me. I thought I'd come see you perform." He held out the box. "I brought something."
I took the box from him, curious. It was cookies—fancy ones. The label read The King's Cookies. Immediately, Queenth's voice pierced the moment.
"Wait—is that The King's?" She swooped over before I could even open the lid.
"Loveth!" she called out excitedly. "Come see what Summer's boyfriend brought!"
"Whoa, no way. These are like... top-tier," Loveth said, joining us and eyeing the box with reverence. "I've only ever tasted them once at a birthday party—and it wasn't even my party."
I chuckled, biting into one. It melted like butter on my tongue. Sweet, rich, and honestly? Worth the hype.
I was about to ask Fred how he managed to get them—because I was sure they weren't cheap—when he interrupted my train of thought.
"What were you saying earlier?"
"Oh, we just finished the rehearsal," I replied, swallowing the last of my bite. "We were about to head back to the hostel."
His eyes locked on mine, eager. "Can you perform a scene for me?"
Just like that, my nerves returned. My stomach twisted. Performing in front of my friends was one thing—performing in front of Fred was a whole different kind of stage fright.
"Nope," I said quickly, shaking my head and stepping back.
"Why not?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Are you shy?"
I tried to deny it, but the flush on my cheeks betrayed me. My face was burning. He knew.
"Thanks for the cookies, Fred!" Loveth called as she and Queenth walked off, clearly giving us space. I appreciated it, but it also made things... harder.
I turned back to him, trying to shift the spotlight. "Fred, why did you buy such expensive cookies?"
"I saw a clip of that actor—Tunde Ayeni. He said he eats these before auditions to calm his nerves. So... I thought it might help you too."
My eyebrows shot up in amused disbelief. "Wait—you believed that?"
He nodded, proud. "Yes. For my baby."
I burst out laughing. "Fred! That was clearly a paid promo! He's trying to sell them. It's a commercial!"
His face dropped a little, embarrassment creeping in. But the way he scratched the back of his head and shrugged made me melt.
"Still," I added quickly, softening my tone, "it was sweet. Thank you."
As we stepped out of the theatre hall, the sun hit us like a slap. The Saturday heat was brutal, and the entire campus felt alive with couples lounging under trees, sitting on benches, or strolling hand-in-hand. It made our quiet walk feel more intimate than it should have.
Neither of us spoke for a while. I could feel something shift in him—like he was deep in thought, maybe embarrassed. I didn't want to press.
When we reached my hostel, I turned to him, holding the cookie box tight against my chest. "Thanks for this," I said, and before I could hesitate, I leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.
His breath hitched.
"Don't be ashamed," I whispered. "My nerves were actually calmed."
Then I turned and walked inside, not daring to look back.
---
Fred's POV
The sun burned overhead, but it wasn't the heat that made me uncomfortable—it was the sting of humiliation, lingering long after Summer disappeared into her hostel.
I stood frozen on the sidewalk, her kiss still fresh on my skin, but it didn't chase away the bitter taste in my mouth. She thought it was a joke. A commercial stunt. And maybe it was. But in my mind, I was doing something meaningful. Thoughtful.
Now, it just felt childish.
I watched as a couple walked past, hand in hand, laughing like the world belonged to them. Summer and I could be like that, I thought—if I had more to offer. Not just cookies, or support, or words. But real things. Power. Presence. Money.
The truth settled in my gut like a rock.
If I had money—real money—this wouldn't be a joke. I wouldn't be the boyfriend who brought overhyped cookies. I'd be the guy with a car waiting outside. The one with connections in the industry. The one who could fund her dreams, not just cheer from the sidelines.
She's slipping from my hands, and I can feel it.
I thought love would be enough. That being there, cheering her on, listening, caring—that it would count. But love isn't always enough in a world where status and success write the rules.
So I made a decision.
I'm going to change the narrative. I'll make money. I'll get influence. Not to impress her—but to protect what we have. To shield our love from ridicule, and from the insecurity eating me alive.
No more playing small.
As I finally turned to walk away, the cookie box in my hands now empty, I looked up at the sky. The same sky that once held my dreams of love, simple and soft.
Now, I wanted more.
For her.
For us.
And for me.