[The West Plaza - Cinna Bean Café]
Lyka was mid-rant, nose red from crying and voice somewhere between a sob and a shriek.
Lyka wiped her nose with a tissue for the third time, eyes still watery.
"And then—then he said he needed time to 'find himself.' Like bro, you work at a vape shop and live with your mom. How lost can you be?!"
Celeste, halfway through biting into her cinnamon roll, muttered,
"Should've told him to look for himself in a mirror. Start small."
"And then—he said we needed to 'focus on ourselves.' Like excuse me, sir, I've been focusing on your ego for six months straight!"
Celeste blinked, straw halfway to her mouth.
"Okay. First of all—what a dick. Second of all—what a dick."
Lyka wiped under her eye with a napkin, laughing through the sting.
"I'm being dead serious and you're just echoing insults."
"I don't know how to comfort someone," Celeste said honestly, leaning on the table. "I've never had to cry over a boy. I'm NBSB, remember?"
She paused dramatically, then added with a crooked grin,
"For now."
Lyka didn't even try to hide her eye roll.
"Right. And yet you flirt with your brother's best friend like it's a full-time job."
Just then, the café bell above the door jingled. They're not concerned about who's stepping through the door.
Celeste grinned but didn't deny it this time. Her tone dropped, softer but still playful.
"Hey. I might be flirting, but I'm serious."
"As in serious, serious?."
Celeste just nodded proudly
"Let's not make this about me, but… be honest. Did you even like him?"
Lyka glared.
"He had great arms."
"That's not a personality."
"I thought I could build around it!"
Celeste rolled her eyes.
"You don't adopt a man like a fixer-upper apartment, Lyka."
Lyka slumped over her drink.
"I feel like trash."
"You're not trash," Celeste said. "You're just a girl with bad taste and too much hope.
"Oh… senior? Are you okay?" A new voice joined them, gentle and familiar.
Lyka froze mid-sniffle.
Celeste turned her head lazily.
"Huh?"
Liam stood just a few steps away, holding an iced Americano and blinking in surprise.
He looked between Lyka's tear-streaked face and Celeste's half-eaten pastry.
"I—uh. Didn't expect this vibe," he said carefully.
Lyaka covered her face.
"Oh god. You saw me cry. End me."
Celeste tilted her head.
"What are you doing here?"
He walked over, tone casual.
"Buying coffee. I live like, three blocks from here."
He pulled up a chair without asking and plopped himself right next to Celeste.
Too close. Shoulder-almost-touching close.
Celeste was too busy licking cinnamon off her thumb.
Liam glanced at Lyka.
"Did someone die or…?"
"My love life," Lyka muttered into her sleeves. "It died tragically."
"Oof. That's rough," Liam said with a sympathetic wince. "Want me to fight him?"
Lyka raised an eyebrow.
"Do you even lift?"
Liam sat straighter.
"Emotionally."
Celeste let out a small laugh.
"So," Lyka sniffed, "what do I do now?"
Celeste blinked at her over the rim of her cup.
"Get revenge."
Liam coughed on his bagel.
"Whoa, whoa. Maybe start with a rebound, not a felony."
"I'm serious!" Lyka huffed. "He just… ended it like that. Like I was disposable."
Celeste leaned forward, elbows on the table.
"Okay, listen. Take it from me—someone who's never had a boyfriend, never been dumped, and never shared fries romantically."
Liam raised an eyebrow.
"Impressive resume."
Celeste held up a finger.
"I call it: being emotionally undefeated."
Lyka frowned.
"That's not a flex."
"It absolutely is," Celeste said, deadpan. "My heart? Mint condition. Untouched. Like a rare collector's item."
Lyka rolled her eyes.
Celeste grinned.
"So here's what you do: First, cry it out. Which you already did. Ugly tears, bonus points. Then, buy yourself something unnecessarily expensive."
"I don't have money."
"Sell your sadness," Celeste shrugged. "Write a breakup poem, win a contest, profit."
Liam laughed.
"That's… surprisingly on-brand advice for her."
Celeste leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Then—you post. Not a sad girl post. A glow-up post. Hair done, lashes popping, captioned like: 'Healing in peace ✌️' or 'thank u, next but hotter' or something equally delusional."
Lyka blinked.
"That's toxic."
"Yes," Celeste said proudly. "But therapeutic."
"I thought you were gonna tell me to move on."
"I am. Through passive-aggressive Instagram stories."
Liam nodded thoughtfully.
"Honestly? Better than punching a wall."
_______
Their drinks were half-finished, and Lyka was finally breathing like a functioning human again—less sobbing, more sarcastic sighing.
Celeste was scrolling through the dessert menu, flipping it upside down like it might reveal a secret item if she tilted it hard enough.
"I swear if they have mochi brownies and no one told me—"
*Bzzzt.
Her phone lit up on the table.
Ash:
Where'd you go? Everything okay?
Celeste froze.
Out of all people… she didn't expect him to text first.
She smiled.
She typed quickly, thumbs dancing with practiced ease.
Celeste:
Miss me already? I was gone for an hour, baby. You're getting clingy. Should I be worried? 💋
She hit send and locked her phone, sliding it screen-down on the table again—looking entirely unaffected.
She looked up at Lyka and Liam—Lyka now sucking down her drink like she hadn't just spent twenty minutes crying, and Liam doodling nonsense in the corner of a napkin.
Celeste exhaled softly, a slow smirk tugging at the edge of her lips.
"Alright," she said, stretching her arms above her head. "After this, we're buying you lip gloss and emotionally irresponsible earrings."
Lyka blinked.
"What are emotionally irresponsible earrings?"
"The ones that say, I look like I healed, but I will absolutely cry again on your birthday."
Liam clapped once.
"I want that on a tote bag."
________
The last of the snack bags had been stored. The books were alphabetized. The apartment finally looked livable.
But still—no Celeste.
Ash had tried not to think about it.
Had tried not to check the door. Or the clock. Or his phone.
But then he did all three.
And then he caved.
Ash:
Where'd you go? Everything okay?
He stared at the message. Then locked his phone. Then unlocked it again. Then immediately panicked because what if that sounded clingy? He'd just wanted to check in. That was all.
Nothing weird. Nothing intense.
Just… concern. Mild concern.
Right?
His phone buzzed.
Celeste:
Miss me already? I was gone for an hour, baby. You're getting clingy. Should I be worried? 💋
Ash nearly dropped his phone.
His face flushed instantly, like someone had poured boiling tea down his collar.
"B–Baby?" he whispered to himself in horror, like the word had physically stabbed him in the chest.
Rowan—still fiddling with the air fryer—looked up.
"You say something?"
"Nope," Ash said quickly, voice about an octave too high.
He turned away, clutching his phone like it might self-destruct in his palm. His ears were glowing.
He opened the message again. As if rereading it would somehow make it less flirtatious.
It did not.
He ran a hand down his face.
Clingy.
Clingy.
Had he sounded clingy?
Was he clingy?
The kiss emoji was definitely illegal.
Ash groaned quietly into his sleeve.
He didn't reply. Not right away.
Not because he didn't want to.
But because he had to sit in a corner for five minutes and rethink his entire emotional trajectory.
__________