Zane
I take a moment to reply to Maeson, while sending Emma a smiley emoji and a quick "Yes love, I love you." Then I simply say, "Go ahead."
Maeson walks into my room with his usual calm, but his eyes tell me he's worried. Of all my friends, he's always been the one who cares most about everyone's emotional and overall well-being. We joke that he's our dad, and even our fanbase has embraced the joke, posting videos online titled"Maeson and his kids."
"Dinner was great," he says, sitting beside me. "I saved you some in the oven in case you get hungry later."
I thank him silently, and we sit in quiet for a few seconds.
I hesitate to start talking. But with him, I always feel free to open up—even when I don't know what's going on inside me.
"Bro, I don't know. When I looked at her today, I couldn't handle all the emotions that hit me in one second."
Maeson doesn't ask who I'm talking about. Apparently, I was obvious enough for everyone. He stays quiet for a moment, like he's choosing his words carefully. Then he speaks in that voice of his that never judges—only listens.
"Sometimes emotions don't ask permission. They just show up. And they don't always make sense. They don't always have intention. Sometimes it's just that—a human reaction to something that hits you differently."
He lowers his gaze, like he's searching for answers in the floor.
"I love Emma. I don't understand what's happening. I don't want this to mean something it's not."
Maeson nods, without interrupting.
"I know. And I'm not going to tell you it's normal, because that sounds like an excuse. But I can tell you that what you feel doesn't define you. What you do with it does."
I take a deep breath. His words give me space to think.
"Melissa has something. I don't know what it is. But she stirred things in me I didn't expect."
"She has presence," Maeson says. "And a story you can feel without her saying a word. It's easy for that to shake you. But maybe, if you get to know her more—see her in her day-to-day, in her silences and her laughter—you'll realize what you felt was just attraction. And you don't have to turn it into a conflict."
I look at him, grateful. I don't need to say more.
"Thanks, brother."
Maeson stands, giving me a soft smile.
"Come downstairs. Watch the movie with us. If you still feel the same afterward, we'll talk. But don't lock yourself in what you don't understand. Sometimes what feels like an earthquake is just a gust of wind."
I nod. And for the first time in hours, I feel a little more at peace.
Melissa
We settle in the living room to watch a movie, like it's our usual Friday night plan. While Shawn and Konnor fight over the TV remote, Vanessa and Wenn are having a secret conversation I can't quite follow. So I allow myself a moment of quiet reflection.
Honestly, I'm proud of every decision I've made in the past few days. Even if my neck is sore, the jet lag has me in zombie mode, and traveling with seven suitcases felt like an Olympic test of physical and emotional endurance—trying not to lose my luggage or my flights while keeping my sanity intact—I wouldn't change a thing. Well... almost nothing.
What weighs on me is having to lie to guys so honest, so transparent, with such clean energy—Vanessa's new friends. They welcomed me without questions, without judgment, as if they already knew I needed a place to land without breaking. Their way of trusting people is clearly different from what Vanessa and I grew up with.
Wenn was the first to offer me calm. She speaks like she's wrapping you in a warm blanket. She offered me her home without knowing me, and that says more about her than any biography. I don't know Shawn well yet, but if he's a reflection of Wenn, then I already know what to expect. Plus, there's something in his gaze that seems to read more than he says. Konnor... well, Konnor is adorable chaos. He makes me laugh even when I don't want to. He has the gift of saying the wrong thing at the perfect moment—and somehow, making everything feel lighter. Maeson is different. He has a calm that can't be faked. He looks at me like he understands things I don't even know I'm feeling. He's the kind of person who doesn't need to speak to make you feel seen. And even though my friend hasn't said anything yet, I've already noticed the glances between them. That's something we need to talk about later.
And Zane... Zane was something else. From the moment I saw him, I felt something. I don't know if it was attraction, curiosity, or just the impact of someone you didn't expect to meet. But then, his behavior confused me. He looks at me like he wants to understand me, but pulls away like he shouldn't. And that confuses me more than I want to admit...
Just then, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It's Maeson. His slow, steady walk—like the world can't rush him—makes me look up. He gives me a faint smile, like he knows I'm thinking about him. And for a second, everything feels a little more settled. Then I see Zane, so different from Maeson's calm. He walks in behind his friend, like a mystery. I can't decipher what his gaze is telling me, but one thing's for sure—I fully intend to find out.
Vanessa
Just as the battle between Shawn and Konnor over the TV remote ends—with Shawn clearly winning thanks to superior muscle and a bit of help from my friend Wenn, who distracted Konnor with a perfectly timed innocent question—Maeson and Zane walk into the room. Zane seems to have had a productive talk with his friend; I can tell the tension he's been carrying since the airport has lightened. But there's something in his gaze, especially when it lands on my best friend, that gives him away. I can already guess what's happening.
We end up choosingThe Secret Life of Walter Mitty, because Konnor insisted we needed something "inspiring, but with good music." No one argued—not even Shawn. Maybe we were all too tired to debate, or maybe the idea of watching Ben Stiller run through Iceland felt surreal enough to match our week.
Shawn settles on the couch, and Wenn sits on his lap, hugging him like they're one emotional entity. Zane takes the far end of the same couch, arms crossed but more relaxed than before. His gaze drifts toward Melissa now and then, like he can't help it. I notice his fingers playing with the edge of the blanket, like they're searching for something not on the screen.
Konnor plants himself on the other end of the couch with a tub of popcorn that looks stolen from a movie theater. I sit on the floor, right in front of them, and Maeson settles beside me—so close his knee brushes mine. Melissa chooses a single armchair by the window and curls up with a blanket she found nearby.
The movie starts, and for the first few minutes, everything seems normal. But soon, Shawn and Wenn begin whispering, giggling, and exchanging affectionate touches that have nothing to do with the plot. Konnor, with the patience of a Zen master on the edge, glances at them and finally snaps:
"Can we watch the movie without you two turning into a romantic short film on the side?"
Shawn laughs, and Wenn throws a popcorn kernel at his face. Konnor, offended, drops to the floor and sits on my other side, muttering something about "the invasion of the emotionally attached."
Maeson, as if sensing his space has been invaded, secretly takes my hand. His thumb gently strokes the back of my hand, making me smile. But when Konnor comments on my "indie film critic pose," Maeson tenses. He doesn't say anything, but his grip tightens slightly. It's subtle, but I notice—he's the possessive type.
Meanwhile, Zane and Melissa exchange glances that aren't easy to decode. No words, but something's there. A silent tension settles between them like a third presence. She looks at him with curiosity, he with something that feels like a mix of attraction and inner conflict. And I, from my corner, see it all.
The movie ends with that beautiful Himalayan scene, and the silence that follows feels deeper than the credits.
Shawn, as if he'd been waiting for the perfect moment, breaks the ice:
"Well... now that we've seen Walter Mitty find his purpose, can someone catch me up on Melissa's arrival? Because between the suitcases, the drama, and the intense stares, I feel like I missed the trailer."
We all laugh. Melissa shifts in her chair. And I know what's coming next isn't just an explanation. It's the beginning of something more.