We arrived at the theater, and as expected, chaos hit immediately.
Jake had already claimed the giant popcorn tub, sitting like it was a throne, brown hair sticking up in every random direction.
Nena chased him, scolding and swatting at him, short black hair whipping around her ears.
"Give it back!" she yelled, tugging at the bag, but he just leaned back smugly, tossing a piece into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed Mark's hand without thinking. He didn't flinch, just gave me a small, steady squeeze.
Calm. Solid. Anchor-level calm. I needed that.
Liam and Emma were in their own corner, whispering and giggling quietly.
They barely glanced at the mess we were in, their calm presence making the tension in the theater feel sharper—like the world had divided itself into chaos and order, and we were stuck right in the middle.
Finally, Jake and Nena settled into the seats, still bickering quietly over who got the better popcorn spot.
I could feel the adrenaline from the chaos settling in my chest, my ponytails bouncing slightly as I adjusted my bag.
The lights dimmed, and the movie started.
The first jump scare hit, and I yelped, squeezing both Mark's and Nena's hands. Nena laughed quietly, hair flicking over my arm. Mark stayed calm, just holding my hand gently, steadying me.
But then I noticed him—Ethan. Watching from the back, jaw tight, shoulders tense, eyes following every small interaction between me and Mark. My stomach tightened.
I leaned slightly closer to Mark. "Why is he… looking at us like that?"
Mark glanced over casually. "That's just him. He's always… intense like that."
I frowned. "Intense? That's… terrifying."
He gave me a soft, almost amused smile. "It's not exactly nice, but it doesn't mean anything."
Ethan's gaze softened slightly as he looked down at his hands, jaw relaxing just a fraction. I could see it. The tension, the intensity—softening, just barely.
And then he stood.
Not angry. Not storming. Just… firm. Deliberate.
"I'm going," he said quietly. "I can drive."
I waited, heart pounding. Mark leaned closer, hand still resting lightly on mine. "You know he's too scared to drive," he murmured.
Ethan's jaw clenched slightly. "I'll go alone."
Mark sighed. "You're stubborn."
From the back, Liam came out quietly. "Ethan… come on. Let us walk with you," he said softly. "You don't have to—"
Ethan didn't look angry. Not really. But the tension around him was sharp enough to make the air feel heavy. Everyone could sense it.
Jake finally came out, lazily leaning against the doorway, munching a stray popcorn. "Let us go, man," he muttered. "You'll be fine."
"I'll go alone," Ethan repeated firmly.
I just watched, heart tight, wanting to reach for him, but he walked off before I could move.
Mark rose slowly beside me. "I'm coming," he said softly. He followed silently, steady as ever.
We stepped into the night. The theater, the popcorn, the chaos—everything was behind us.
Only Ethan, moving rigidly, and us following, hearts pounding, nerves stretched tight.
We stepped into the night, the cool air hitting us instantly.
Ethan's shoulders were stiff, jaw tight, and he walked with that precise, rigid rhythm that made it impossible to read him.
"I told you," he said quietly, without turning, "I can drive myself."
I frowned, panic bubbling in my chest. "Ethan… you can't. You're too… you're too nervous. You'll mess up!" My voice trembled slightly.
"I said I can," he replied softly, calm, measured, almost unreadable.
"Can?!" I echoed, voice rising just a fraction. My ponytails bounced as I took a step toward him, heart racing. "You cannot! You get scared, you—"
"I know what I'm doing, It was in the past" he interrupted gently, without yelling, without a trace of anger. His calm made my stomach twist even more. "I'll be fine."
I swallowed hard, trying not to let the fear in my chest take over. "You won't. You can't. You'll crash—Ethan, please—"
He sighed, long and quiet, as if carrying the weight of the entire night on his shoulders.
"I'm sorry," he murmured finally, voice low, soft, resigned. "I shouldn't have argued. I just… I wanted to handle this."
And then he turned and walked away.
I froze, heart still pounding, and looked down at Mark, who had silently followed beside me.
His hand rested on my shoulder, calm and grounding. "It's okay," he murmured softly. "He's not mad at you. He's… stubborn, that's all. We'll be fine."
I tried to protest, to call him back, but my voice caught in my throat.
Behind us, the others—Jake, Nena, Liam, Emma—had lingered, unsure what to do.
When they realized Ethan truly wanted to go alone, they slowly nodded and started to head back toward the theater.
Jake muttered something about "he's impossible," Nena flicked her short hair, smirking faintly, Liam shrugged at Emma, and even Regina stayed frozen in place, fury simmering but silent.
Mark kept his hand on my shoulder as we followed the faint outline of Ethan disappearing into the night, his figure stiff, determined.
I could feel the tension radiating off him, and a part of me wanted to run, to grab his hand, to yell, to cry—but I didn't.
Instead, I let Mark guide me, steadying me, reminding me that even in this chaos, even in the tension, I wasn't alone.
The night was quiet except for our footsteps, but every shadow, every distant sound, reminded me just how… fragile and sharp this moment had become.
And somewhere deep in my chest, I knew the tension between Ethan and me wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
As I turned, I came face to face with Regina.
Her expression was sharp, eyes cold, full of fury I couldn't ignore. "You," she hissed, voice low but cutting, "EVERYTHING that's happened lately… it's because of you. Since you got involved with those four boys, every single time, it's chaos. Every. Single. Time."
For once… I didn't argue.
I swallowed, shoulders sagging just slightly, and muttered, almost to myself, "Yeah… she's right."
Nena, of course, didn't hesitate. She rolled her sleeves up, eyes blazing. "Regina, back off! Ayana hasn't done anything wrong!"
Jake, already standing nearby, waved a hand lazily. "Enough. Let's just go finish the movie."
Nena hesitated, hands still clenched, but finally, she backed down. Regina didn't even look at us after that.
She turned sharply on her heel and walked away, heels clicking with every measured step, like she was leaving chaos behind—and taking her anger with her.
I let out a long sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Chaos… yeah, it really was everywhere.
The parking lot was quiet, almost painfully so.
Ethan sat alone in the driver's seat, hands gripping the steering wheel loosely, head bowed slightly.
His expression was distant, heavy, weighed down by thoughts he refused to share.
I would have wanted to reach for him, say something, but I stayed back, letting him have this space.
The door opened quietly, and a woman stepped in. Early twenties, hair tied back neatly, casual black shirt tucked into slim blue jeans. Her smile was warm, gentle, like the kind of smile that made you feel seen without saying anything.
She leaned slightly against the car, looking at him. "What happened?" she asked, calm and even.
Ethan didn't meet her eyes. "Just… drive," he said softly. "Leave me alone."
She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing, as if reading something unspoken. "Hmm… is it… about the girl?"
He said nothing. His silence, his posture, the slight tightening of his hands, told her more than any words could.
Her lips curved in a knowing smile. "Ah. Thought so."
She slid into the passenger seat. "Can't still drive by yourself, right?" she teased gently, shaking her head just slightly.
Ethan glanced at her, expression softening a little—not for long, not fully—but enough for a flicker of vulnerability to show.