☆BEST FRIENDS BROTHER!!☆

“meet me at the park. i have to show you something. 5pm sharp.”

you stare at the message longer than you should, rereading it like it might change. it doesn’t. there’s no explanation, no follow-up, nothing. your chest feels tight, a quiet sense of dread settling in.

you type back anyway.

“okay.”

⸻

the park feels off the second you arrive. it’s not empty, but it’s quiet in that unnatural way, like the world muted itself. the sky is overcast, sunlight dull and gray, and the air feels heavier than usual.

you spot him near the trees almost immediately. he’s leaning against one, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed like this is just another normal afternoon. no pacing. no nervous energy. just waiting.

that alone makes your stomach twist.

“you’re here,” he says, glancing at you.

“you told me to be,” you reply, trying to sound normal.

he checks his phone briefly, then looks back up.

“good. you’re on time.”

you shift your weight, unease crawling up your spine.

“so... what did you need to show me?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he studies your face, jaw tight, eyes serious in a way you don’t usually see.

“before we go any further,” he says, calm but firm, “you need to listen to me.”

your heart starts pounding.

“okay...?”

“whatever you’re about to see,” he continues, “you didn’t cause it. and you don’t deserve it.”

your breath catches.

“you’re scaring me.”

he exhales quietly, then turns.

“come on.”

⸻

you follow him down a narrow path lined with trees. gravel crunches under your shoes, each step louder than it should be. as you walk, voices drift through the air—laughter.

familiar laughter.

your steps slow.

“wait,” you murmur. “that sounds like—”

he stops abruptly and lifts a hand.

“stay here.”

he steps aside just enough for you to see past him.

and everything breaks.

your boyfriend stands a few feet away, way too close to your best friend. she’s smiling, hand resting on his chest like it belongs there. he leans down, says something that makes her laugh.

then they kiss.

not quick. not hesitant. comfortable.

your stomach drops so hard it feels like the ground disappears beneath you. your ears ring. your hands start shaking as tears flood your eyes.

“no,” you whisper. “no, that’s not—”

he steps in front of you immediately, blocking your view.

“don’t look.”

your knees give out and you grab onto the bench behind you, collapsing onto it as sobs tear out of your chest. your breathing turns uneven, painful.

“I don’t understand,” you choke. “why would they—”

he crouches in front of you, voice steady, grounded.

“because they’re selfish,” he says simply. “and because they didn’t think you’d find out.”

you cover your face, crying harder.

“how long?” you manage to ask.

he hesitates for half a second.

“long enough.”

that hurts more than anything.

⸻

footsteps approach. voices rise.

your boyfriend notices you.

“wait— this isn’t what it looks like—”

he stands immediately, stepping forward.

“stop.”

“This doesn’t involve you,” your boyfriend snaps.

he lets out a short, humorless laugh.

“it does when you hurt someone and think you can talk your way out of it.”

your boyfriend shoves him.

everything explodes.

the fight is fast and messy—shoving, punches, someone stumbling back. you scream, panic ripping through you.

“stop! please!”

he takes a hit, wipes blood from his lip, then steps back before it gets worse. his jaw is clenched, eyes dark with anger.

“we’re done,” he says coldly.

he turns to you and holds out his hand.

“we’re leaving.”

you take it.

you don’t look back.

⸻

after that day, everything ends.

you block your ex. you block your best friend. no long messages, no closure, just silence. it hurts, but it’s clean.

some nights you cry until your chest aches. other nights you feel empty, like all the emotion drained out of you.

he checks on you without hovering.

“you eat today?”

“you sleeping okay?”

when you forget to eat, food appears. when you spiral, he distracts you. when you start blaming yourself, he shuts it down immediately.

“don’t,” he tells you once. “this was never on you.”

⸻

you start over together. new friends. new routines. people who don’t know the past and don’t judge you for it.

eventually, practicality kicks in.

“we could get a place together,” he says one night like it’s nothing. “split rent.”

you hesitate.

“roommates,” he adds. “don’t overthink it.”

you agree.

⸻

living together feels strange at first, then normal. shared groceries. late-night conversations. quiet understanding. he’s still nonchalant, still blunt, still rude in his own way.

but when everything fell apart, he stayed.

and that changed everything.

“meet me at the park. i have to show you something. 5pm sharp.”

you stare at the message on your phone, unease creeping in immediately. marcus isn’t the type to be dramatic for no reason, and the fact that he didn’t explain anything makes your stomach twist.

“marcus, what is it?”

three dots appear, then disappear.

“just trust me and come.”

you hesitate, then type back.

“fine.”

⸻

when you arrive at the park, the first thing you notice is how quiet it feels. the sky is gray, the air heavy, and marcus is already there, leaning against a tree like he’s been waiting for a while. he straightens when he sees you, expression serious.

“you’re here,” he says.

“yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms. “you sounded urgent. what’s going on?”

marcus looks at you for a moment instead of answering, like he’s choosing his words carefully.

“before i show you anything, i need you to hear me out.”

your chest tightens.

“marcus, you’re making me nervous.”

“I know,” he says calmly. “but I need you to promise me two things. one, you don’t interrupt. two, you don’t blame yourself.”

your heart starts pounding.

“why would i blame myself?”

he exhales slowly.

“just promise.”

you swallow.

“…okay.”

he nods once and gestures for you to follow him.

⸻

you walk down the path beside him, gravel crunching under your shoes. then you hear laughter ahead. familiar laughter. your pace slows instinctively.

“wait,” you say quietly. “that sounds like—”

“it is,” marcus replies.

he stops near a cluster of trees and lifts a hand.

“stand here.”

“why?”

instead of answering, he steps slightly to the side, opening your view.

and suddenly everything makes sense in the worst way possible.

jack is standing a few feet away with lia, way too close, her hand resting on his chest like it belongs there. they’re laughing, relaxed, comfortable. jack leans down and says something you can’t hear, and lia smiles.

then they kiss.

your breath catches painfully, like your lungs just stopped working.

“no,” you whisper. “no, that’s not—”

marcus moves instantly, stepping in front of you and blocking your view.

“don’t,” he says firmly. “don’t keep watching.”

your legs give out and you drop onto the nearby bench, tears spilling before you can stop them.

“that’s my boyfriend,” you sob. “that’s my best friend.”

marcus crouches in front of you, his voice steady and grounded.

“I know.”

you shake your head, crying harder.

“how could they do this to me? how long has this been happening?”

he hesitates for just a second.

“long enough that jack should’ve told you.”

that answer hurts more than anything else.

⸻

footsteps approach behind you.

“wait—” jack’s voice says quickly. “this isn’t what it looks like.”

marcus stands up immediately and turns to face him.

“stop.”

“marcus, this doesn’t involve you,” jack snaps.

marcus lets out a short, cold laugh.

“it does when you cheat on her with her best friend.”

lia steps forward, eyes wide.

“(user), please, let me explain.”

you look at her through tears, shaking.

“explain what, lia? how you smiled at me while doing this behind my back?”

lia opens her mouth, then closes it.

jack runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“i was going to tell you.”

“when?” marcus cuts in. “after you got bored? after she found out herself?”

jack shoves him.

everything escalates fast. voices rise, tempers snap, and suddenly they’re fighting — messy, angry, fueled by months of lying. you scream for them to stop.

“please! stop!”

marcus takes a hit, wipes blood from his lip, then steps back before it goes further. his jaw is clenched, eyes dark.

“we’re done here,” he says flatly.

he turns to you and holds out his hand.

“let’s go.”

you take it.

you don’t look back.