LOGINAlex~I get to the arena too early.The building looks smaller from the outside than it does on TV, a squat concrete thing with banners taped crooked along the entrance and students milling around in clusters.I walk in with my hands in my jacket pockets and my shoulders loose.Inside, it smells like popcorn and rubber soles and there is a faint electric buzz that never quite goes away in places meant for crowds. I find my seat halfway up the bleachers, close enough to see faces but far enough back that I can take the whole court in at once.The floor gleams. The lights are aggressive. Music pulses through the speakers in short bursts, hype stitched together from bass and shouting.I text Seth even though I know he won’t see it yet.I’m here.Three dots appear almost immediately, then disappear, then come back.Good. Don’t leave.I smile to myself and tuck my phone away.People trickle in around me. A couple holding hands, a group of freshmen wearing matching hoodies, someone settles
Alex~ I clock in at twelve forty-eight, two minutes early, because I like the feeling of being ahead of something even when nothing else in my life feels like it’s waiting for me. Jamie is already there, perched sideways on the edge of the big table like the room belongs to them, laptop open, coffee sweating through the paper cup and leaving rings on the wood. The space smells like dust and citrus cleaner, the kind they use when they want a place to feel productive instead of loved. The windows are cracked open just enough to let the afternoon in, that half-warm, half-bored light that makes everything look unfinished. Maya swivels in her chair when she sees me. “You’re early,” she says. “I woke up early,” I tell her, which isn’t a lie, just not the reason. She hums, already turning back to her screen. Maya always does acknowledging you without making it a thing and I swear it’s a talent. Jamie, on the other hand, looks up like they’re about to read me aloud. “How is t
Seth~ I wake up already late for something. Alex is still in bed beside me, the sheets kicked halfway down, his shirt twisted around his ribs. He’s on his side, facing me, eyes closed but not deeply asleep. I can tell by the way his fingers keep flexing against the pillow, like he’s counting breaths. I don’t move right away. There’s a version of my life now where mornings feel borrowed, like I’m always leaving something behind even when I’m still in the room. I don’t want to rush this one. Not when he’s here. Not when the day hasn’t asked anything of us yet. The light is different this late. Sharper. It cuts across his face instead of spilling gently over it, catching on his lashes, the line of his mouth. He looks older like this. More settled. Not softer—Alex has never been soft—but anchored in himself in a way I don’t remember from earlier in the year. I wonder when that happened. Maybe I was too busy looking outward to notice. I reach out, brush my thumb
Alex~ The sheets are still warm when we crawl back into them. The curtains are half drawn. Afternoon light spills in sideways, catching dust in the air, striping Seth’s bare shoulder, my arm, the wall. By this time the campus is fairly active that we can hear activities going on. A skateboard cracking against concrete, a car door slamming somewhere too far to matter, voices of people. Seth lies on his stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other stretched toward me. His hair is still damp from the shower he took after breakfast, darker at the ends. I watch the slow rise of his back, the way his breathing evens out only when he’s really relaxed, when he’s not thinking about drills or meetings or the shape of the next week. I slide closer, my knee fitting into the space behind his thigh like it belongs there. My hand finds the line of his spine, traces down, stops at the waistband of his shorts. He hums, low and content, without opening his eyes. “You’re heavy,” he
Alex~ I wake up first, which is rare, because Seth usually sleeps like he’s guarding something. Light and easily ready to throw his arm across whatever’s closest like it might disappear if he lets go. Today it’s me. His forearm is warm against my stomach, skin-to-skin, the weight of it anchoring me there. The room is so quiet in a way that only exists early in the morning. Pale light sneaks through the blinds, striping his shoulder, his jaw, the corner of his mouth that’s always slightly turned down even when he’s relaxed. I don’t move right away. I just lie there and breathe him in. His hair is a mess, curls flattened on one side, sticking up on the other. His lashes look unfairly long like this, resting against his cheeks, and for a second I feel that familiar tug this soft, ridiculous fondness that feels like it could ruin me if I stare too long. So I don’t stare, I catalog. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The way his fingers twitch occasionally, like he’s dr
Alex~ The dorm feels quiet in that late afternoon way, the kind where sunlight spills in through half-open blinds and the world outside seems almost irrelevant. Jordan is perched on the edge of my bed, knees bent, backpack at his feet, and he’s talking fast, half to himself and half to me about the final edits on his project. He gestures, letting the air take the shape of his words, and I watch him, listening more than responding. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him like this, casual and relaxed. He is a little distracted but it’s good. “I think I finally settled on the last color grade,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s subtle, barely there, but it keeps the mood from going too… theatrical, I guess. Too polished. You know what I mean?” I nod, though I’m not sure I do. “Yeah. Polished most times can kill authenticity. Sometimes too much clarity makes people miss what’s underneath.” He grins. “Exactly. That’s what I was going for. Lived-in, but intentional.
Alex ~By the time I wake up the next morning, I’m still riding the high of last night. The mail from the program hasn’t left my head since I clicked accept, and even though I didn’t sleep much, my chest feels light in a way it hasn’t in weeks.I glance over at Seth’s bed, already planning the way
Seth~I trail after him across campus, but it feels more like chasing the shadow of someone who doesn’t want to be caught. Alex doesn’t look back once, not even when his pace falters at the edge of the quad and he nearly runs into a couple holding hands. He just cuts between them, muttering an apol
Alex~The library is quieter than I expect for a Tuesday afternoon, sun slanting through the high windows in streaks that cut across the long rows of desks. I spot Jordan easily, hunched over a stack of notes with his earbuds in, tapping a pen against his laptop like the beat is something only he c
Seth~I can’t sit still.I’ve been pacing the same strip of floor for twenty minutes, back and forth, like if I stop moving my chest will cave in. My heart won’t slow down. My hands keep finding each other, wringing, then dropping, then tugging through my hair.The livestream ended an hour ago, bu







