Gen Z Nostalgia Mga Nobela at Kwento

I said firmly, pulling him closer, "Noah's a memory. You're real life. The good parts, the bad, the cheesy, the rough all of it. I want this, us." He nodded slowly, eyes searching mine like he was memorizing it. "Me too. No more sulking." "Promise," I echoed, then smirked to lighten it, "But keep the earring. And maybe lose the skinny jeans, those are a crime." He laughed, pinching my ass. "Deal. Hoodie stays though. Makes me feel Gen Z approved." "Gen Z approved? You're hopeless," I groaned, but snuggled into his chest anyway, listening to his heartbeat slow, steady, mine.

We ate standing at the counter at first, forks twirling spaghetti while we laughed about nothing. Then we carried our plates to the living room, dropped onto the couch, and let an old playlist take over. Songs from our high-school years blasted through Zara’s Bluetooth speaker—angsty pop-punk, early 2010s R&B, that one overplayed summer anthem we used to scream-sing in her beat-up Honda. We danced around the coffee table like idiots, barefoot, hair wild, sauce stains on our shirts. For a few minutes the world shrank to just us: two girls who’d known each other since braces and bad haircuts, refusing to let anything heavier than the beat touch us.

In my case, it was precisely 9 days before prom, pre-Cool-off with Katey. When the dust cleared after the epic throwdown against Josh, I didn’t have any memory of Katey’s awesome, and oh so trendy, life soundtrack. I mean, I know beggars can’t be choosers and my soul music selection is indeed the best of the best, but most of my playlist come from the ’60s and ’70s; none of them from this century. And as you know, Katey’s Gen Z so I’m actually a bit worried a generation gap might start between us. God, I feel so old (positively medieval).

“I’m, as the kids say these days, dead.” “We’re the kids who say it. We’re Gen-Z,” Brandon said, packing his suitcase. I was so proud of him. He had taken to the city like fish to water. He got up at the break of dawn and did an hour-long jog around the campus with his new friends. Every night, he’d spend another hour at the university’s rec center, working out in the gym.