INT – CONVENIENCE STORE – 5AM
"DJ!" Oriel snapped, her voice loud enough to echo down the quiet aisle. "Answer your phone!"
But the ringing didn't stop.
Across from her, Dhylan slurped his instant noodles, pretending to be too absorbed in his breakfast to notice.
"I swear, I'm going to throw that thing in the trash," she growled, eyes locked on the vibrating phone beside him.
'I love you, DJ!' chirped the overly enthusiastic voice from the ringing phone. The same voice now belonged to the girl standing in front of him, glaring like her eyes could set him on fire—Oriel.
How did it come to this? It was supposed to be his birthday gift—the one he begged for.
She felt guilty. She didn't have money for a real present, and though she knew DJ wouldn't mind, she still wanted to give him something special. Something thoughtful.
So she asked him what he wanted.
Bad idea.
And granting that wish? An even worse one.
She remembered that moment in the restaurant—the one he also paid for, of course. How could she say no when he asked so sincerely? It's just one time, she told herself. So, swallowing every ounce of her dignity, she said those cringey, soul-scarring words out loud:
"I love you."
And did she get an "I love you too" back?
No. Of course not.
Not that she was expecting it or anything. Totally not.
Instead, he grinned like a smug little gremlin and said, "Oh yes!"—then clicked something.
He recorded it.
That traitor.
Back in the present, DJ finally picked up the call. It was a classmate asking him to hang out. He declined, citing the photography project as the reason.
Trying to lighten the mood—his fault entirely—he glanced at Oriel. "Fire really does have connections, huh? This photographer's portfolio is top-tier."
"Right? I looked him up too," she replied, her usual brightness returning to her tone.
But DJ could tell—it wasn't for him.
It was because of Fire.
Bittersweet, but not jealousy. No hate. Just that dull sting he was used to.
"Let's get going," she said, standing up and brushing her skirt. "We don't want to be late for this."
"Yeah," he agreed.
Despite being nearly broke, Oriel had still bought a small gift for the photographer—probably using the last of her allowance. DJ had offered to pay, of course. She refused, as always.
INT – ICE'S APARTMENT – MORNING
"Are you sure you don't want to eat first?" Ice asked, eyeing her with suspicion.
Fire nodded with her usual smile plastered on—but something was off. She wasn't talking as much as she usually did. In fact, she hadn't said a single word unless spoken to.
Not that Ice disliked peace and quiet, but from her? It felt... unnatural.
He grabbed his jacket from the hanger, slung it on, then took the keys off the kitchen counter. But to his surprise, Fire was already by the door, jacket in hand and bag slung over her shoulder, facing forward like she was waiting for his cue.
Just last night, she'd been cheerfully barging into his space, demanding home-cooked meals like she owned the place. Now, it felt like she couldn't wait to get away from him.
Not that he cared.
Still, it was confusing.
He walked toward her with no intention of prying, but the moment she heard his footsteps, she turned to him and forced a smile.
Then suddenly—she collapsed.
Startled, Ice barely managed to catch her in time.
He crouched down, adjusting her limp form in his arms. "Hey," he called, voice calm at first. "Fire?"
No response.
"Hey—this isn't funny. I'll drop you on the floor," he warned, a flicker of panic in his tone.
Still nothing. No reaction. No movement.
Ice studied her face. Something was wrong. This wasn't like when she fell asleep on his couch.
Makeup?
She hadn't worn any yesterday. Now he could see it clearly—lipstick trying to hide how cracked and pale her lips were. Her skin, too, paler than usual.
She's been covering it up.
His gut clenched.
This... is bad.
INT – HOSPITAL ROOM – LATER
"I told you, no hospitals!" I pounded on him like a madwoman.
The betrayal!
But Ice just stood there, arms crossed, calm as a stone statue. Like I was the unreasonable one here.
The hospital room was small but clean, private, and stocked with the basics. I wasn't even sure if this was part of my insurance. Ice, seriously—you know how much I hate hospitals!
"Stop moving. The doctor said you need to rest. They're still running tests," he said in that usual flat tone, like it was no big deal.
I clutched his shirt around the collar like a desperate woman on the edge of war. "No!"
No change in expression.
What is this man made of?
Needles. I remembered the needles. I gasped, clinging harder. "No way, Ice! Save me! Take me home!"
Still expressionless. Like a robot.
"I said lie down." His voice was calm, but his eyes—those cold pupils slowly locking onto me—sent a chill down my spine.
But this is not the time to be scared of Ice, this wasn't the kitchen. This wasn't a baking lesson. This was war.
"You can't tell me what to do!" I puffed up like a stubborn balloon. "You have no power over me!"
"I'll call your dad," he said. "Tell him you're being stubborn,"He added. With that face, I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or actually serious.
"You don't even have his number," I shot back, triumphant.
"I don't," he agreed—then slowly raised a phone in his right hand. "You do."
"That's mine!" I lunged, but he pulled it back just in time, like a master teasing a toddler.
"You traitor!"
"Shut up and lie down," he grumbled, pushing me gently but firmly back onto the bed. His face looked annoyed, but his hands were surprisingly careful.
"I dare you to talk to Papa!" I cried. "You can't even talk to people properly!" I challenged him like a sore loser, almost crying like a kid whose candy just got stolen.
"I already did."
My jaw dropped. My soul left my body. "For real?!"
He nodded. Cool as ever.
Why do I talk to this iceberg?
"I told him not to worry," he added with a sigh, like he was reporting the weather. "He was about to book a flight."
"Of course he was!" I groaned. That's why I didn't want to tell him in the first place.
"I told him you're okay now."
I paused, the tension melting just a little. I took a deep breath. "Thanks, Ice. I really didn't want him to worry... or spend money flying all the way here."
"Maybe stop being a burden to me too," he muttered.
Excuse me?!
I was about to burst into tears—just a little, okay?! But this was Ice, so…
Instead, I pulled out my best card: my winning smile.
"I'm hungry."
By the look on his face, he was clearly unimpressed.
I don't care! This is totally your fault!