Morning sunlight slid through the cracked blinds of the tiny one-bedroom apartment, the kind of place where dreams went to suffocate. The space smelled faintly of cheap incense and yesterday's noodles. But despite the gloom, laughter drifted from the living room — soft, warm, familiar.
Jade sat cross-legged on the threadbare carpet, hair tied up in a loose bun, pen tapping against her notebook as she reread the job listings she could never seem to qualify for. Bambi leaned over her shoulder, chin resting lightly against Jade's back, while Mateo sprawled across the lumpy sofa like a lazy cat, scrolling on his phone.
They looked like three people who had their lives figured out — close, comfortable, connected.
But the truth simmered underneath.
Love.
Fear.
Pressure.
And something else unspoken, fragile, always one wrong word from shattering.
"Tell me again why employers expect ten years' experience for an entry-level job?" Jade muttered, tossing the notebook aside.
"Because the world is trash," Bambi said cheerfully, pressing a quick kiss to Jade's shoulder before crawling to her feet. "Coffee?"
"Yes," Jade sighed.
Mateo lifted his head. "Make mine strong," he added, though he hadn't contributed a single naira toward groceries this week.
Bambi didn't complain.
She never did.
She moved around the kitchen, humming softly, fingers trembling only a little. She hid it well — the exhaustion, the bruising stress that came from working nights at a bar that paid barely enough to keep them afloat. Mateo thought she was just clumsy. Jade knew better, but Bambi shrugged it off every time.
Jade watched her now, an ache forming in her chest.
Her best friend.
Her almost-something.
The girl she loved quietly, gently, the way one loves a fragile thing they're terrified to break.
Mateo yawned loudly, oblivious. "Bills are due next week," he said casually, as if announcing the weather.
Jade tensed. "We know."
"And," Mateo continued, eyes glued to his screen, "my boss cut my hours again. Not my fault."
Of course it wasn't. Nothing ever was.
Bambi returned with the coffee, placing Mateo's mug carefully beside him. He caught her hand — not lovingly, not gratefully — but as if he were checking possession.
Jade's jaw tightened.
They all lived together. They all shared everything.
Mateo was Bambi's boyfriend.
Mateo was Jade's childhood friend.
Bambi was Jade's reason for breathing.
It was messy. Complicated.
Beautiful, on good days.
Breaking, on bad ones.
Bambi settled beside Mateo, curling into him. Mateo's hand absently stroked her thigh, more out of habit than affection.
"You okay?" Jade asked quietly.
Bambi looked at her — soft brown eyes that always felt like a home Jade could never fully enter. She smiled. "We'll get through this. We always do."
Mateo snorted. "Not unless one of us grows a money tree."
Jade glared at him. "We're trying."
"Yeah?" He tossed his phone onto the couch. "Trying doesn't pay rent."
Bambi flinched. Jade saw it. Mateo didn't.
Jade replied with a hint of disgust "well if you would actually work properly so your boss wouldn't cut your pay, you could actually have a say in this fucking house." She made an air quote when she said the words boss and cut your pay.
A tense silence filled the room.
Outside, a motorbike roared past. The city groaned awake. But inside, something heavier weighed down the air — the kind of pressure that builds slowly, silently, until the moment it snaps.
Bambi leaned into Mateo more, seeking comfort.
Mateo didn't notice.
Jade noticed too much.
She stood abruptly. "I'm going out."
Bambi looked up. "Where?"
"To breathe," Jade said simply.
Mateo rolled his eyes. "Drama queen."
Jade ignored him. She grabbed her jacket, stepped into the hallway, and closed the door behind her.
Only then did she let the truth slip onto her face.
The tiredness.
The fear.
The love she shouldn't feel — and the love she didn't receive.
They were a trio.
A unit.
Three hearts tangled together in a knot.
But knots, when pulled too tightly, eventually tear.
And Jade could feel the threads already fraying.