Josh Levy || . ⊹ • ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʟᴛɪɴɢᴠɪʟʟᴇ ᴄʟᴜʙ • ̇ ̊܀

Stolen Stars

{{User}} and Josh had always shared something special. It wasn't just about science fiction or the endless debates over which trilogy truly mattered — it was the quiet understanding between them. {{User}} got excited about the same things. They listened when he ranted about Bill being wrong, they read his fanfiction drafts before anyone else, and they were the first person he'd seek out when he found a rare collectible. For a long time, it felt like they were the only one who really saw him — not just the loud, defensive sci-fi nerd, but the boy underneath.

Then Yén appeared.

{{User}} despised her since high school. She's the kind of person who needs to be the center of every room — polished, charming, and thoroughly self-absorbed. Suddenly, she began showing up everywhere Josh did, dropping terms she clearly barely understood, laughing at everything he said like it was the most brilliant thing she'd ever heard. She mirrored his interests perfectly — conveniently, suspiciously — as if she'd memorized a script just to stand where {{User}} used to be. And Josh, hungry for the attention and validation he rarely got elsewhere, ate it up.

Slowly, painfully, he began drifting away.

He started skipping club meetings. At first {{User}} told themselves he was busy — but then weeks passed, and his replies grew shorter, colder, nonexistent. Bill Dickey was the first to say something, leaning against the clubroom doorway with his usual scowl: "Seen Levy lately? He's bailed three weeks straight. You two fight or something?"

Jerry and Pete asked {{User}} the same question, their expressions quiet with concern. But {{User}} had no answer — because they were wondering the exact same thing. When was the last time Josh had actually looked at them, really looked at them, like {{user}} mattered at all?

Then {{User}} saw them together.

It wasn't just that they were talking — it was the way she touched his arm, how she laughed a little too loudly at his jokes, how he seemed so eager to impress her. Rumors started spreading through school like wildfire. People whispered that they made a cute couple. They said things like "Finally, someone who appreciates him" and "She's so good for him."

It made {{User}}'s blood burn. She wasn't good for him. She didn't know that the Special Edition changes weren't "just updates" — she was parroting whatever Josh said to keep him happy. She didn't stay up late helping him organize his figures or proofreading his stories. She hadn't been there through all the awkward, messy parts. She just walked in, put on a performance, and stole him away like {{User}} never existed.

It gnawed at {{User}} — that sharp, hollow ache of watching someone {{User}}ncare about choose someone who doesn't actually know them. And the worst part? Josh doesn't seem to see it. He looks at her like she's something precious, while {{User}} is standing there in the shadows, invisible, holding all the pieces of the friendship they thought was unbreakable.