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riizingwish · 1 month ago

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until august says goodbye | lee anton pt. 1

⟶ summary: every summer job, every inside joke, zero personal space—since you were fourteen, it’s always been anton. even with college pulling you in different directions you stayed close… just less effortlessly so when he says, “one last summer job, just us,” you don’t hesitate. the only thing is, something’s different this time. he still packs your lunch, still gives you the better locker, still makes it feel like no one else exists when he talks to you but now you’re starting to look at your best friend differently. the worst part? he’s always looked at you like this.

˗ˏˋpairing: best friend!anton x f!reader, slight sungchan x reader ❀ genre: summer love, slow burn, best friend to lovers ❀ word count: 13.52k ❀ staring: maya (22)- xg, anton (21)- riize, sohee (21)- riize, sungchan (22)- riize, harvey (22)- xg ⟶ warnings: mentions of edibles, getting high, drinking, arguments, swearing, makeout sessions, talk of toxic relationships, mentions of panic attacks and anxiety, mentions of blood, allusions to sex, let me know if i missed anything.

✎୭: in honor of my first full year as loveanton and the start of summer ! also, this was meant to be a one-shot of 28.9k words but due to tumblr rules i had to split it into two parts, part two will be up soon!

ʚїɞ taglist: @gacktsa @dreamiestay @yoursyuno @yctfreaky @stormy1408

Your dorm looks like it exploded.

The room’s a mess with half-packed boxes, a rogue sock on your bedpost and three different cups of half-drunk matcha on your desk. Your roommate’s sitting cross-legged on the floor folding your clothes like she doesn’t have finals in twelve hours.

“You always wait until the last second,” Maya says.

“I had finals,” you protest, throwing a tangled heap of chargers into a box labeled kitchen things even though it clearly isn’t.

She snorts. “You also took a two-hour nap in the middle of folding your laundry.”

You grin in response. Fair.

Maya’s been your roommate since freshman year—assigned totally at random and somehow it just worked. You weren’t expecting much but she showed up with a full-size speaker, a neon pink kettle and two coffee mugs.

She's funny, stylish and has been the kind of friend who knows when you need to be told to get it together and when you need someone to bring you overpriced sushi and sit with you in silence. Three years later you still share the same room, same favorite mugs, same playlists on loop. She's become a second home.

Your first home however has always been Anton, your childhood best friend.

You met him when you were nine in the middle of an English immersion summer camp neither of you really wanted to be at. He sat next to you during arts and crafts and told you your macaroni picture frame was ugly and then gave you the glue stick you were missing. Somehow, that was the beginning.

From that point on the two of you did everything together. Swim lessons, school projects, awkward middle school dances where both of you swore you’d rather die than slow dance with anyone else. Every summer in high school the two of you found a job be it ice cream stands, lifeguarding, even one cursed summer as camp counselors. It was a tradition, one that lasted longer than either of you expected.

Now, you’re both rising seniors in college and time’s harder to come by. If he’s not busy with swim practice then it’s late-night labs or RA responsibilities but even with the time limitations, some things haven’t changed.

You still show up to all of his swim meets sitting in the same spot cheering loud enough for him to hear underwater. Still make time to grab boba every Friday night as a trio and occasionally make time for off campus frat parties where he watches over you and Maya like a hawk.

“You still haven’t packed your toiletries,” Maya points out, tossing a pair of your sneakers into a box without bothering to make sure they’re even the same pair.

“I like to keep my skincare in reach,” you say, which is mostly true. You just don’t want to admit you haven’t figured out how to pack twelve steps of face wash and serums into one Ziploc bag.

“You’re not going off-grid,” she replies. “You’re going home.”

“Same thing.”

Maya gives you a look but doesn’t say anything before standing and stretches, glancing at the mess around the room. “This better be mostly done by tonight because I am not helping you do a 2 a.m panic pack.” She warns, heading toward her desk.

You snort, “babes, you and I both know that’s not true.”

Maya tries her best to hide her smile but can’t and rolls her eyes before opening her laptop. “Screw off,” she mutters, pulling up a stats lecture she’s already watched twice today. There’s a knock at the door before you can respond.

Maya looks up brows raised. “You expecting someone?” You shake your head and cross the room, tugging the door open without thinking.

Anton stands on the other side, holding a tray containing three drinks in one hand and a roll of industrial-sized trash bags in the other.

“Hi,” he says like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he’s not supposed to be studying for his neurobiology final. Like showing up at your door with Dunkin’s and a stack of trash bags is a normal Tuesday thing.

You blink. “Aren’t you supposed to be studying?”

“Figured you’d be knee-deep in panic packing, I brought reinforcements.” He says, surveying the room.

You say nothing and step aside to let him in. He moves past you and enters the room like he’s done a hundred times before and sets the drinks down on your desk.

“Mango pineapple lemonade refresher,” he says, sliding yours toward you. Then, to Maya, “Strawberry matcha, extra ice, no sweetener.”

Maya happily takes the drink and thanks him before turning back to her laptop. Anton gestures to the room. “Alright. Where do you want me?”

“You have an exam,” you remind him.

“Yeah and I’ll pass,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing then adds, “and you’ll forget your toothbrush if I don’t help so really I’m doing us both a favor.”

Maya snorts. “He’s not wrong.”

You sigh, reaching for your drink. “Fine. You can stay but only if you promise not to judge how I pack.”

Anton’s already taping a box shut. “No promises.”

You sip your drink as Anton settles on the floor beside your pile of clothes, legs stretched out casually peeling tape from the roll like he’s the one moving out. You glance at Maya who’s still half-focused on her laptop and say, “I’m gonna miss you.”

She doesn’t look up. “Okay, drama queen.”

“I’m serious, you’re ditching us. Going all the way to Japan while we rot in Jersey.” You pout.

That gets her attention. She sighs and finally looks at you just in time for you to toss your weighted dino Antoinette, a birthday gift from Anton right at her head.

She catches it with both hands and clutches it to her chest. “You’re right. I don’t love you. Only Antoinette.”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

“FaceTime exists, you’re gonna call me every day. We’ll groupwatch trashy TV and complain like always.” She says, petting the dino like it’s a cat.

“Promise?”

She smirks. “Only if you don’t cry during move out.”

You flip her off and she grins, setting Antoinette on her lap before turning her attention back to her screen. “So what are you two doing this summer anyway? Internships? Summer classes? Something productive?”

You shrug. “I don’t have plans. Probably just sleep, eat and annoy Anton.”

Anton hums without looking up from the hoodie he’s folding. “Confirmed.”

You glance at him. “What about you Ton?”

He shrugs. “Nothing locked in but I saw the old country club near my house is hiring again.”

You sit up straighter. “Wait—the one from freshman year?”

Anton glances up at you, smiling. “Yep. Same one.”

Maya looks between the two of you. “You guys worked at a country club?”

You grin. “It was our first summer job. We were like…fourteen? Mostly did poolside snacks and towel returns.”

Anton nods. “And there was the golf cart incident.” Maya raises a brow.

“She stole one of the golf carts and crashed it,” he says, gesturing at you.

You gasp. “That is not how it happened.”

He grins. “It absolutely is and I took the blame.”

You shake your head, laughing. “First of all, he’s being dramatic. Second of all, he got off with a warning. He’s making it sound worse than it was.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of the people,” Anton says, sipping his drink.

You roll your eyes. “They let you off because of your dad.”

“More like because of my amazing personality,” he says proudly.

“Privilege,” you correct.

“Semantics.”

You shake your head, still laughing as you reach for another hoodie to fold. Maya’s grinning behind her laptop clearly entertained. Then Anton casually says, “We should apply again.”

You pause mid-fold. “To the country club?”

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “One last job. For old times’ sake.”

You glance at him and raise your brows. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Anton nods. “Why not? It’s close to home, the pay wasn’t terrible and we already know half the staff’s probably the same. No stress. Just summer.”

You eye him. “Why though? You could intern anywhere or do research or I don’t know…rest?”

He shrugs. “And you could do the same but we both know you’re not doing anything structured this summer.”

“That’s…not untrue,” you admit.

Maya shuts her laptop with a soft click. “Okay, hold on. You two are telling me you’re seriously considering spending your last free summer wearing ugly polos and dodging rich people at a country club pool?”

You and Anton both nod. She sighs. “Gosh, you’re perfect for each other.”

You throw a sock at her.

Anton leans back on his hands, sipping the last of his drink and not commenting on Maya’s words. “Come on. No essays, no cramming, just a few shifts a week and bad iced coffee, and maybe some golf cart redemption.”

You narrow your eyes. “Only if you’re driving this time.”

“I’m an excellent driver.”

“Says the man who didn’t get his license until last year.”

It’s Anton’s turn to throw a sock at you. “And yet it only took me one try unlike some people in this room.”

You gasp scandalized. “Low blow! It’s not my fault my first instructor had it out for me!”

Anton laughs and dodges the squishmallow you throw at his head. “And the second and third time?”

You roll your eyes, “That’s rich coming from the guy who thought parallel parking meant ‘close enough.’”

Anton raises his hands, grinning. “Okay, okay. Truce.”

You toss the last hoodie into a box. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Anton shakes his head but says nothing. Maya pushes her laptop away and stands, stretching like she’s aged ten years. “Alright, I’m gonna shower before I lose the will to study.”

She grabs her caddy and heads toward the bathroom, pausing only to scoop Antoinette off her desk and cradle her under one arm.

“I’m stealing your daughter,” she says over her shoulder.

“Just don’t drop her,” you call back.

“You won’t get far,” Anton says, barely looking up. “Antoinette’s got separation anxiety like her mom.” He jokes.

You slap his arm as Maya snorts. The door clicks shut behind her and the room settles into something quieter. Anton’s still sitting on the floor, legs stretched out fiddling with the edge of a new piece of tape.

He leans back on his hands. “You know I was serious, right?”

You glance over. “About what?”

“The country club.”

“Oh. Yeah. I figured.”

“I mean, it’s dumb but…” He shrugs. “It’d be fun. Like—one last summer. Just us. Before everything…changes.”

You don’t answer right away because it sounds fun, of course it does but under the surface something else tugs at you. It’s the realization that this might really be the last summer like this. He’s right…things are changing and they’re changing fast.

Fall means senior year, your last one. After that he’s off to med school probably in a different state. Maybe a different coast. You’re taking a gap year to travel, to finally breathe after years of nonstop coursework. You don’t have much time before “just showing up” turns into scheduled calls and missed birthdays.

You’ve known him for thirteen years. He’s been in every version of your life and suddenly that constant is starting to shift.

No more Friday night boba runs. No more post-practice phone calls. No more knowing someone will always be exactly where they’ve always been. It hits you and it stings. All you’ve ever known is him.

You don’t say any of that though. Instead, you nod. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

He looks over at you, surprised. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah I’m down.”

Anton smiles, soft and boyish like it’s just another one of your shared inside jokes. “I’ll send you the link.”

And that’s it.

You don’t need to say anything more. He doesn’t push. You both just sit there in the middle of the mess, pretending like next summer isn’t already pulling you in opposite directions.

May 30th 2025

Your name tag clicks as you fasten it to your new polo—navy blue, crisp and slightly too long in the sleeves. The country club rebranded since the last time you worked there. No more ketchup red polos or painfully thick khakis. Everything’s been toned down, modernized.

It’s been a week since spring semester ended. The dorms are cleared, Maya’s off in Japan and you’re back home in Jersey sleeping in your childhood bed but everything feels different. You feel different. Mostly because of what this summer means.

You want this summer to be good.

Scratch that, not just good but fun, worth remembering. You want to laugh until you’re on the verge of vomiting, take off guard point fives and have stories to tell when you’re older. If this is your last summer being attached at the hip with your best friend, then it better be one for the books.

You head down the stairs and make a quick detour into the kitchen. The fridge hums quietly as you open it, grabbing the water bottle you left chilling overnight. It’s already fogging from the heat. You stuff it into your tote before slipping into your beat up New Balances by the door. Your phone buzzes just as you’re smoothing out your shirt.

10:53 am | ton🦕: outside ☀️

In the living room, your parents are lounging on the couch, half-watching the morning news with matching mugs.

“I’m heading out!” you call.

“Tell Anton we say hi and that we love him!” your mom shouts over the TV.

Your dad raises his mug like a salute. “Drive safe.”

“Will do,” you say, already stepping outside.

Anton’s Jeep is parked out front, angled just slightly onto the curb like he’d pulled in too fast and couldn’t be bothered to fix it. The silver paint reflects the sky, windshield dotted with pollen. He’s standing next to the passenger door in his lifeguard uniform, his name tag slightly crooked.

The Jeep was a gift from his dad last year—a “congrats on passing your road test” paired with an “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.” It’s nice. Too nice honestly but Anton doesn’t brag about it. He hardly talks about it at all.

He was bummed his dad couldn’t teach him how to drive. Not that he ever said it outright but you know. He wanted his dad to be there, to sit in the passenger seat, correct his turns and congratulate him when he nailed parallel parking but his dad’s still in Korea. Always has been and while Anton understands why it doesn’t make it suck any less.

You don’t bring it up though, neither of you do. Some things are just better left unspoken. When he sees you Anton straightens up and pulls open the door.

You raise a brow. “Still opening doors for me? Must be nice, having money and manners.”

He snorts. “Didn’t realize chivalry was a tax bracket thing.”

You grin. “Your mom really raised you right.”

“She tried,” he says, shutting the door behind you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

He slides in, adjusts the a/c and and pulls away from the curb.

“My parents say hi,” you say. “And that they love you.”

His mouth quirks. “Tell them I say it back. My mom says hi too.”

You settle in as the car coasts through your neighborhood. As he slows at the first stop sign, he gestures to the backseat. “Oh— I packed you lunch.”

You look at him shocked. “You did what?”

“In the lunchbag, kimchi fried rice with spam. My mom made the rice, I fried the spam.”

You give him a look. “You fried?”

“It might be a little crispy but the thought counts, no?” He admits.

You snort. “Remind me to text your mom later.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

He smirks. “You were thinking it.”

You don’t reply just reach into your tote and quietly pull out the water bottle you grabbed earlier. You offer it to him.

He blinks. “What’s this?”

“Cold water,” you say. “You always forget to drink when you’re on pool duty.”

He takes it from you slowly. “Thanks.”

You shrug. “It’s nothing.”

You say it’s nothing but the way his eyes linger on the bottle before setting it down makes you second guess…is it?

Is it nothing that you remembered even after all this time? That you chilled the bottle overnight just because you knew he’d forget? That he packed your favorite lunch like it was second nature or the fact that he knows your drink order without asking.

Is it nothing that your mom still calls him her other child or that your dad always asks how Anton’s doing before asking about you? That it’s been thirteen years and somehow, this still feels like home?

You tell yourself it’s nothing because if it isn’t nothing…what is it? Before you can think about that too hard, the next song clicks on through the speakers.

You freeze. “No way.”

Anton laughs. “You remember this one?”

“Growl?” you say.

He cranks it up slightly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. You both sit there for a second, just listening.

Back in high school, Anton was obsessed with this song. Learned the lyrics and the choreo. He forced you to learn with him to keep him accountable, you still remember late night dance practices in your garage. He ran those practices like you were in boot camp.

He told you one night after lifeguard training that he wanted to be a K-pop idol. That he was serious. Like—leave school, move to Seoul and audition serious.

It’s not that you didn’t believe in him. Anton’s stupidly talented, he can play multiple instruments, produce, sing, dance. If anyone could’ve made it, it was him but his parents shut it down. They said it wasn’t stable, that he had too much potential in science and medicine to “throw it away on a whim.”

He never brought it up again. He still makes music sometimes, beats in his room, covers for fun, a little keyboard loop here and there but it’s just a hobby now.

You glance at him. “You still remember the words?”

He nods slowly. “Not all of them. But yeah.” You start humming and he joins in.

The windows are down, the music’s too loud. You’re both singing off-key and half-laughing. The ride continues like this until Anton turns the music down as you pull into the long driveway of the country club.

The stone entrance is the same but everything else looks newer and cleaner. The landscaping is sharp, the hedges manicured like they’ve been cut with scissors and the old faded sign has been swapped for something sleeker, modernized with some fancy rebrand name neither of you care enough to remember.

He parks in the staff lot angled slightly on the curb like always and hops out to grab your bags before you can even unbuckle your seatbelt.

You follow him inside through the back entrance down a hallway lined with beige walls and emergency evacuation posters. The staff break room smells faintly like sunscreen and freezer burn same as it always did. At least the lockers have been upgraded, sleeker and less dented metal and sharp corners.

Anton eyes the row before stopping at the end. “Take this one,” he says, nudging open the cleanest locker.

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Bigger shelf.”

You don’t argue. You just smile and tuck your stuff inside. You’re taking down your water bottle when he nudges your shoulder. “Let’s go. You know they hate when we’re late.”

You roll your eyes but follow him through the staff hallways back to the front desk, where three others are already waiting.

The first face you recognize almost immediately, he’s about three apples tall, warm-eyed and has a smirk that’s impossible to miss.

“Sohee? No way.” You blink, half-laughing.

He grins. “Look who finally came back.”

You rush over, giving him a quick hug. It’s been forever, two years at least. Sohee was your summer coworker-turned-honorary brother back when you were fourteen. He worked the snack shack while you manned the front desk and Anton kept an eye on the pool. He went to high school in the next town over but somehow you all clicked immediately. Sohee had a big basement, a decent playlist and a personality that made him easy to trust.

After graduation, he headed to California for college. Got tired of Jersey winters and wanted a change. You’ve only really kept in touch through Instagram and random texts, low maintenance, long-distance kind of friendship. The kind that picks back up like nothing changed.

“You working front desk again?” he asks, already guessing the answer.

You nod. “Duh.”

He glances at Anton. “Pool?”

Anton nods back, reaching out for a bro hug. “Wouldn’t be summer without it.”

The guy next to Sohee is new; tall, tan, slightly broader than Anton with soft brown hair and a jawline that looks carved.

“This is Sungchan,” Sohee offers. “New hire. Lifeguarding with your boy over there.” He’s leaning casually against the counter sipping a Gatorade like he’s already claimed his chill guy status.

“I’m Harvey,” the girl beside him says cheerfully. She’s shorter, hair pulled into buns with spikes and practically bouncing on her heels. “Poolside snacks. Is this your first summer too?”

You smile. “Not exactly. We worked here freshman year of high school.”

Anton nods. “Figured we’d come back for one last round.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense! I saw you guys come in together, he was carrying your bag and opened the door for you and everything. You guys are so cute. Are you dating?” Harvey asks brightly.

The question stuns the group into silence.

You falter. “Oh—no, we’re just—”

“Friends,” Anton cuts in, laughing a little too fast. “Definitely just friends.”

You nod quickly. “Yeah. No. We’re just friends.”

It’s not a new question. People have been asking you that since middle school. Usually, you deny it without thinking, sometimes with a laugh, sometimes with a dramatic gag for effect. Living with Maya has made it easier to ignore the comments; she’s always teasing, always shipping, always nudging with that “but what if?”

But for some reason this time it lands wrong. Like a splinter, like something you can’t quite shake off. Especially when you glance at Anton and he’s laughing like the idea of dating you is absurd. Not even worth considering.

That…stings a little more than you expect it to. The conversation moves on.

Sungchan asks where you go to school. You tell him. He says he’s at Rutgers, studying kinesiology. He asks if you’re pre-med. You say no. He asks if you’ve ever been to Atlantic City. You say a hundred times over. It takes you a second to realize he’s flirting.

Sohee notices too, he smirks subtly, eyes flicking toward Anton who says nothing. Just stands there jaw tight arms crossed like he’s suddenly bored of the conversation.

Harvey loops back into your chat easily, bubbly and warm, clearly excited to be working her first job. You like her already.

Sohee eventually claps his hands together. “Alright losers, we should probably actually, you know, do our jobs.”

Anton mutters something under his breath and turns to Sungchan. “Let’s go before they stick us on towel duty.”

The two of them walk off toward the pool deck and Harvey waves before darting back toward the breakroom for her apron. Which leaves just you and Sohee at the desk.

He folds his arms and looks at you for a second too long.

You side-eye him. “What?”

He shrugs, clearly biting back a smile. “Just surprised. Thought maybe something would’ve changed between you two by now.”

You make a face. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.”

“You are.”

He leans forward, elbows on the desk. “I’m just saying, if I didn’t know you guys—”

“Well, you do,” you cut in. “And there is nothing going on with me and Anton.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment just hums like he’s filing it away for later.

You look down at the sign-in binder, suddenly very interested in the pages that haven’t been filled yet because maybe once it was easy to say there’s no you and Anton and not think twice but right now…you’re not so sure.

___

You and Sohee spend most of the morning shift alternating between joking around and pretending to be productive.

He makes fun of your growing squishmallow collection, shows you a dumb video of a goose chasing tourists and bets you ten bucks someone’s gonna try to sneak in through the tennis courts again before noon.

“You still have that one video?” he asks at one point, tapping on the desk with a pencil. “The one Anton filmed after your crash out over that burger king worker getting your order wrong.”

You laugh. “Oh my gosh! I completely forgot about that night!”

He grins. “We were so annoying.”

“We still are,” you say and he doesn’t deny it.

Right before noon a girl storms through the front entrance, sunglasses still on and sandals clacking like she owns the place. She doesn’t even say hello before launching in. “My friend’s pass isn’t working and it’s hot and I swear if I have to stand in the sun one more second—”

You stare at her blakly. “What’s the name the pass is under?”

She scoffs before answering, “Lexi.”

You check the binder. “There’s no Lexi on the guest list.”

“She’s with a member. My dad okayed it.”

“I get that but if the member didn’t authorize her, we can’t—”

She cuts you off. “Are you incompetent? I just said my dad is fine with it.”

You smile—tight and polite. “I’m just following policy. Again, if your father reaches out to the front desk we can get it sorted.”

She gives you one last huff and storms out her heels clicking. You lean back in your chair, eyes narrowing. “I hate it here.”

Sohee snorts. “You handled that like a pro.”

“She called me incompetent.”

“Yeah but you didn’t cry or threaten to quit. Growth.”

You snort and toss a pen at him. “You’re so stupid.”

He dodges. “So are you, take a break.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re going to murder someone and I don’t want to be a witness.”

You groan but nod, grabbing your water bottle from under the desk. “Text me if another demon shows up.”

“Only if they’re hot.” You laugh and shake your head as you walk away.

Outside, the sun hits you instantly. The pool is packed, kids screaming, parents sweating and lifeguards trying to look like they’re not losing their minds. You spot Anton climbing down from the stand, towel over his shoulder, hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He meets your eye. “Break?”

“Sent out by Sohee before I committed a felony.”

Anton grins. “Be right back.”

He disappears into the staff building to grab the lunch he packed while you claim a shaded spot under a cabana kicking off your shoes and letting your socked-legs rest against the cool concrete. A breeze rolls in and you lean back, eyes half-closed.

“Hey,” someone says beside you.

You turn to find Sungchan, shirt slightly damp and water bottle in hand. “Mind if I sit?”

You shake your head. “Be my guest.”

He drops into the chair beside you, stretching like a cat. “I’m dying.”

“It’s a billion degrees out,” you agree.

“You always work front desk?”

“Yeah. It’s my thing, Anton’s tried getting me to do lifeguarding but he’s always been the better swimmer.”

“Cool,” he says and then offers you a fruit snack and asks if you’re from around here. You tell him you grew up just ten minutes down the road. He makes a joke about Jersey shore and you actually laugh. Anton rounds the corner carrying the lunchbox in one hand slushies in the other. His gaze flicks to where you’re sitting laughing at something Sungchan said and something shifts behind his eyes.

He doesn’t say hi. Doesn’t look at you. Just walks up and sets the lunchbox on the table between you without a word.

Sungchan blinks. “Hey man.”

Anton glances at him. “You’re still on break?”

“Uh…yeah?”

Anton doesn’t respond. Just raises a brow like really?

Sungchan stands slowly. “I should probably get back.”

He gives you a little wave. “See you later.” You wave back a bit thrown then turn to Anton.

“Seriously?”

He doesn’t meet your eye. “What?”

“That was rude.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t trying to be nice.”

You narrow your eyes at him, grabbing the lunchbox and flopping back into your seat.

“You okay?” you ask.

Anton shrugs again, collapsing into the chair beside you. “Just hot.”

You snort. “Yeah, hot and grumpy.”

He gives you a side glance then finally cracks a small smile. “Yeah, well. I brought slushies. That’s gotta count for something.”

You grab yours, mango, your favorite and take a long sip. “You’re lucky you remembered. I was about to write you off for being so rude.”

Anton reaches into the lunchbox and starts unpacking the contents. Two mismatched Tupperware containers, a few napkins, two forks. You watch as he places everything on the small table between you.

He pulls out the kimchi fried rice and hands you the portion with the less-burnt spam without needing to be asked.

“You’re so weirdly domestic,” you mutter, digging in.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You grin and the silence between you settles. The heat of the afternoon hums low around you but the breeze blows in every now and then and keeps things comfortable. From across the pool, a whistle blows and a kid does a cannonball that earns gasps from half the loungers.

You kick your leg slightly. “Remember that one time some kid got his arm stuck in the vending machine?”

Anton laughs with his mouth full. “Didn’t you encourage him?”

“I did not!”

“You absolutely did. He was trying to get the last bag of Doritos and you said, and I quote, ‘bet you can reach it if you just wiggle your arm a little more.’”

“That could’ve meant anything.”

“He almost dislocated his shoulder.”

“Okay but did he get the Doritos?”

Anton points at you with his fork. “You’re the reason we have warning signs now.”

You snort, shaking your head as you take another bite. You chew slowly, watching the pool sparkle under the sun.

In a softer voice you ask, “Why’d you bring up working here again? Really.” Anton doesn’t answer right away. Just sips his slushie, eyes fixed on something far off. When he finally speaks, his voice is casual.

“Figured we’d have fun,” he says. “Just us. Like before.”

You nod before really thinking about it but the words catch up to you. Just us.

You’ve said that to each other a hundred times over the years, maybe even more. When you were kids convincing your parents to let you go on class trips. When you got your first job together. When you swore off dating apps after two back-to-back disasters. It’s always been a comfort. Something easy. Something true but now, sitting here under a cabana with your lunch still warm between you and the summer breeze curling at your ankles, it feels different.

He says it so simply, like it’s not supposed to mean anything. Like it’s obvious but your chest tightens anyway, like maybe…maybe it does mean something or could mean something.

You glance over and search his face but he’s not looking at you. Just tearing little pieces of his napkin, focused on nothing at all.

You clear your throat. “Well…so far, so good.”

His lips quirk. “Even with Sungchan?”

You let out a groan and nudge his shoulder. “Oh my gosh. He was being nice.”

“He was flirting.” He argues.

“I don’t even know him.” You counter.

“He offered you his fruit snacks.”

You stare. “That is not flirting.”

“That’s first base,” he says deadpan.

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head. “He’s cool I guess but he’s still a stranger. I barely know the guy.” You take another sip of your slushie. “Besides, no one’s stealing your spot.”

He looks over at that, just for a second. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

But even after you say it something lingers in the silence between you. Something neither of you names, not yet. You look back out at the pool, squinting against the sun and pretend not to notice the way Anton shifts beside you.

June 17th, 2025

It’s a slow afternoon at the club. Sohee’s meant to be manning the front desk with you but really he’s just spinning around in the office chair balancing a bottle of Gatorade on his head while you lazily fold brochures into lopsided thirds.

“You know,” he says, steadying the bottle with one finger, “if I wasn’t working here, I think I’d make a pretty decent spy.”

You snort, folding another brochure. “You can’t even sneak snacks past the manager without getting caught.”

“That was one time and the chips were loud.”

The side door creaks open letting in a sticky gust of summer air. Anton and Sungchan walk in from the pool deck, Sungchan’s mid-story talking animatedly with his hands and Anton looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“—and then the kid straight-up cannonballs next to me like I don’t exist. I got splashed in the mouth.” Sungchan says frowning.

Anton shrugs. “I don’t know man, you did yell at him.”

“That crotch gremlin deserved it!”

They drift behind the desk, Sungchan flops into the second chair and kicks his feet up, Anton leans against the counter beside you standing closer than necessary. You glance at the clock, only an hour left on pool duty before rotations, Harvey had the early shift and already left.

“You’re dripping everywhere.” Sohee says glaring at Sungchan who just shrugs and shakes out his hair making Sohee groan as he gets soaked.

Just then, your manager strolls in glancing toward the darkening sky beyond the windows. His clipboard is tucked under his arm and his brows furrow slightly.

“Storm’s coming in early, might have to shut the pool soon. Don’t need the whole crew if this keeps up, anyone wanna head out early?” He announces.

Before anyone can say anything, Sohee shoots to his feet. “Yes. Me. I will gladly shoulder this burden for my best buddy pals.”

Your manager snorts. “That was fast.”

“I’m a man of action,” Sohee says, already grabbing his bag. “Sungchan, you coming?”

“Yeah, I got family stuff anyway.” Sungchan says, standing with a stretch.

Anton arches a brow. “Didn’t you say that yesterday?”

“Different side of the family,” Sungchan replies smoothly, already halfway down the hall.

You stifle a laugh as the door swings shut behind them, leaving the front desk quiet. Outside, the first low rumble of thunder rolls somewhere in the distance.

Anton glances at you and tilts his head toward the towel cart. “And then there were two.”

You sigh dramatically pushing off the counter. “Guess we better make ourselves useful.”

Anton follows you to the towel cart bumping your shoulder with his as he grabs a stack. “At least it’s just for a few hours?”

“I guess.” You mutter, folding a towel sloppily.

Just then, your manager pokes his head out from the breakroom half-distracted by the radar on his phone.

“There’s not much left. Just make sure the locker rooms are clean, stack the chairs if it rains and lock up if I’m not back by closing. I’ve got a staff meeting at the main branch.” He says.

You and Anton both blink. “Wait, you're leaving?”

He shrugs. “Storm’s rolling in so no one’s sticking around today. You two will be fine.” With that he leaves, the door swinging behind him and umbrella already up.

Anton stares after him. “Did he just abandon us mid-shift?”

You nod. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly what just happened.”

The sky grows heavier as you both finish up—tossing used towels in the bin, wiping down snack bar counters, dragging pool chairs toward the fence line as wind picks up. The club slowly empties around you. A couple teens from the tennis court wave goodbye, the remaining lifeguards shout something about “good luck,” and soon it’s just you and Anton, stacking the last of the loungers as the first drop of rain hits your arm.

You both scramble under the nearest overhang just as the clouds finally open up drenching the deck in seconds. You’re out of breath, a little damp and your shirt’s sticking to your back.

“Well, guess we’re stuck.” You breathe, watching the rain hammer the pavement from the safety of indoors.

Anton props his hands on his hips. “Could be worse.”

As if on cue the hallway lights flicker once, twice then cut out completely, leaving you in the dark.

You turn to him slowly. “Seriously?” Anton winces, hands already up in surrender. “Not my fault! How was I supposed to know!?”

You squint at him but he’s already backing toward the supply closet. “I’ll grab the flashlights.”

You huff and duck back behind the front desk. It’s weirdly peaceful here without the usual hum of air conditioning and squeals from the pool. Just the sound of rain and the occasional thunder rumble.

While he’s gone, you dig into the lower drawer under the desk and pull out Sohee’s “secret” stash of cards (the one he swears no one knows about but everyone definitely does). You grab the Uno deck and a half-empty bag of jolly ranchers, shaking the cards out and ‘shuffling’.

Anton returns with a flashlight already turned on, tucking the second into the tissue box holder for hands-free lighting.

“Please tell me you shuffled better than last time,” he says, eyeing the deck suspiciously.

You pause. “...Maybe.”

You’re both crouched behind the desk, legs tangled and cards fanned out while the flashlight glows between you. The storm outside is getting heavier and you mentally sigh knowing you can kiss your rewatch of TVD with Maya goodbye.

“Draw four.” Anton says, smug as he tosses the card down.

You gape at it, betrayed. “Dude! We just started.”

He leans back, stretching like he’s got all the time in the world. “Don’t care, pick ‘em up.”

“I’m never forgiving you.” You say as you pick up four cards.

He laughs, biting into a watermelon Jolly Rancher and tossing you a blue one without looking. You catch it and roll your eyes.

You glance at him, hair still damp from the sprint, sleeves pushed up, lips slightly pink from the candy and it hits you again, just like it did in his car on the day of your first shift, how much he means to you. How dangerous this feeling is becoming but you say nothing, just slap down a wild draw four and smirk. “Your move, loser. The color is green.”

___

Eventually, the round ends with Anton barely winning and the sugar buzz from the jolly ranchers wear off. With nothing else to do, the two of you flop back against the floor, heads tilted toward the ceiling.

“This is so boring,” you groan.

“It’s either this or alphabetizing the lost and found.”

You squint at the ceiling tiles like they hold answers. Anton shifts slightly and pulls out his phone checking the battery. “Eight percent. You want music before she dies on us?”

You nod and toss your own phone over. “Bluetooth’s still connected to the speaker in here. Just use mine.”

He queues up your liked songs on shuffle and taps play. The first song to play is Ordinary by Alex Warren. You sit up immediately. “Oh my gosh, I love this song.”

Anton raises an eyebrow, watching the way your face lights up. “I can tell.”

You hug your knees to your chest swaying a little with the beat. “I’ve been obsessed since it dropped. Wanted to see him in concert but the prices were ridiculous.”

He hums. “Wanna dance?”

You stare at him. “Right now?”

He shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Why not?”

Your eyes search his face. He’s not teasing just asking. After a moment you slowly nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

He stands first and offers a hand which you take as you get to your feet. The two of you step around the scattered cards, the dim flashlight casting shadows behind you. The storm outside softens to a steady patter and somewhere in the distance thunder hums low.

Anton places a careful hand on your waist and you loop yours around his neck. It’s a little awkward at first, a little silly but then it isn’t.

You sway and he hums along under his breath. You snuggle closer to his chest, finding comfort in the way his chest vibrates with each note.

Your heart starts doing that thing again, fluttering and aching and racing all at once. This feels like nothing but it also feels like everything.

Suddenly Anton says, “remember when you made me promise to marry you if we’re both single by thirty?”

You pull back slightly to look at him. “Wait—when did I say that?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Sophomore year. After things ended with that junior—what was his name? Woobin?”

You gasp, “Oh my gosh! I lost so many aura points that year.” You say as a shiver runs down your spine.

You were with Wonbin for a little over six months though sometimes it felt like twice as long.

At first he was exciting, mysterious with a dry sense of humor and a way of making you feel like the center of his universe until you weren’t.

What started as something fun and flirty quickly slipped into something…heavier. You started bending more, giving more. Time, patience, pieces of yourself and he kept taking. He never asked you to shrink yourself, not out loud at least but somehow you found yourself doing it anyway. To keep the peace and to keep him.

He didn’t like that Anton was always around. Didn’t like that your phone lit up with his texts or that you studied together late. No matter how many times you explained that Anton had been there long before him, that it was never like that, he’d just give you a look and change the subject. He never raised his voice, never cussed you out but he was cold in all the places warmth should’ve lived.

And his friends. You shiver at the reminder of them. Girls who barely spoke to you, who made inside jokes you weren’t part of, who looked at you like you’d taken something that didn’t belong to you. You tried. You really did but trying only made it clearer you weren’t welcome.

The breaking point came in the common room. You’d found out that one of those girls used to date him. You didn’t come at him yelling, you just asked why he hadn’t told you. Why he’d let you sit next to her, smile at her, try so hard to be liked by someone who used to be where you were.

He didn’t even let you finish, called you a hypocrite and said he didn’t owe you explanations when you had Anton on speed dial. Then he walked out. Just like that.

You didn’t chase him. You just stood there in the middle of the lounge, hands trembling.

Maya came to you not even a minute later. She’d been eavesdropping from the hallway. She didn’t say anything at first, just wrapped an arm around you and walked you back to your room.

“I always hated him but you already knew that.” She said the second the door closed.

You slumped onto your desk chair while Maya cracked open a bottle of Tito’s. She was celebrating the end of your situationship, you were grieving. Sort of.

“He sucked but you’re still hot.” She had said plainly, handing you a shot. You drank to that.

Then you kept drinking. The two of you ended up blasting music, dancing around the dorm, mascara smudged and feet bare, shouting lyrics you only half knew. That’s when the knock came.

Anton was the RA on duty that night, he looked tired but concerned, already wincing when he saw the speaker blinking blue. “Girls—”

“We got a noise complaint?” Maya guessed.

Anton nodded. “Two, actually.”

You winced. “Are we in trouble?”

He glanced at the open bottle on your desk and sighed. “Technically? Yes. Realistically? No.”

He didn’t write you up. Just stepped inside, clicked off the speaker and lowered the lights. Then he grabbed two water bottles from under your bed, handed one to Maya and sat with you on the edge of your bed helping you drink while she wandered to the bathroom, mumbling something about needing makeup wipes.

He didn’t ask what happened. Didn’t need to. He already knew. Anton always knew.

He knew that Wonbin never held your hand in public unless people weren’t watching. That he rarely walked you back to your dorm after study sessions. That he “forgot” your birthday until Maya posted a story about it.

He was the one who bought you a cupcake when Wonbin didn’t show up to your dinner plans. The one who printed your essay for you the morning your laptop died because Wonbin hadn’t answered your texts. The one who sat outside your chem lecture for an hour once, just to walk you home after your midterm.

He didn’t like Wonbin. Never had but he never said anything because you kept insisting everything was fine and he didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose so he just stayed quiet.

Anton wrapped you up in your blanket that night and helped you sober up while you ranted about love and timing and how you had “plans that you couldn’t share because the haters would sabotage you.”

You remember him giving you a blank stare before asking if you were seriously quoting Dr. Umar. You’d just shrugged then made him pinky promise. First it was to marry you if you weren’t in a serious relationship by the end of senior year but Maya chimed in from the bathroom and said that was too soon so you adjusted it—thirty. If you were still single by thirty, he had to marry you. You passed out right after.

You blink at the memory laughing softly and a little horrified. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I actually said that.”

Anton chuckles, his fingers tightening a bit on your waist. “You were drunk.”

“You should’ve stopped me.”

“I don’t think I could’ve. You were very persuasive” He says grinning.

You groan. “That’s so embarrassing.”

He tilts his head, thoughtful. “I don’t know. It was kind of sweet.”

You snort. “I was in the trenches.”

“I remember. I wanted to punch that guy sometimes.” He murmurs, voice quieter now.

You glance up at him, not shocked. “You and Maya.”

“I would’ve done it, y’know,” he says after a beat.

You cock your head still half-smiling. “Punched him?”

Anton shakes his head. “No. Marry you…you know, if we were thirty and single.”

You blink, breath catching in your throat. He says it so easily. Like it’s obvious. Like it’s always been obvious.

Your mouth opens but no sound comes out at first. “You would?”

“Yeah. You’re not exactly hard to imagine a future with.” He says simply, like the thought doesn’t scare him at all.

For a second you don’t know what to say because it’s Anton, your best friend, saying he’d marry you and saying it like it’s nothing, like it’s already written somewhere in the future, just waiting for the two of you to catch up.

You think about waking up to him. About sharing a bathroom and arguing over toothbrush placements. About movie nights in old pajamas, mismatched socks and legs tangled under the blanket. About apartment keys and slow Sunday mornings and his name showing up on every contact form you’ll ever fill out again.

You think about bringing him lunch at work. About him rubbing your back while you fall asleep. About the two of you building a home from scratch, filling it with too many throw pillows and framed polaroids and mugs that don’t match.

You even think—just briefly—about kids.

Maybe a little girl with your smile and his eyes. A boy who makes the same scrunched-up face when he’s concentrating. Anton would be the softest kind of dad, you know it. The kind who learns how to braid hair and shows up to every dance recital or soccer match early just so he can save a front-row seat.

Your chest squeezes at the thought because the idea of forever with him doesn’t feel scary. It doesn’t feel rushed or wrong. It feels…easy and almost right.

Anton shifts slightly, eyes flicking down to meet yours like he feels it too. Like he might say something more but then the lights flicker back on with a quiet buzz. You both freeze then blink dazed like a spell’s been broken.

Anton clears his throat and takes a careful step back. “We should probably lock up.”

You nod quickly. “Y-yeah. Before the storm comes back.”

Neither of you says anything else. Not about the dance. Not about the promise. Not about what might have happened if the lights had stayed off just a minute longer.

July 3rd, 2025

It’s been almost a month since the storm, you and Anton never brought up that night again. You moved on like nothing happened and went right back to being best friends.

The days have since blurred into sun-drenched afternoons and late-night group chats with slushies and sunscreen. Summer is halfway through and you’ve done more than you thought you would.

Harvey’s become one of your favorite people. You’ve spent more time with her than anyone lately, just the two of you doing silly girly things like you’ve known each other forever. You’ve gotten your nails done twice; matching pastel chrome one week then tiny hearts the next.

You’ve had sleepovers where you ate too much candy, tried on outfits for no reason and stayed up until 1 a.m freetyling to old beats Anton had made. You’ve gone on aimless shopping trips, floated in her pool while talking about first crushes and dream jobs and made it a tradition to blast One Direction during every 7-Eleven run.

You’ve spent a lot of time with the guys too. Group hangouts at Sohee’s house are now routine. His basement has become the unofficial meeting spot, snacks everywhere, a projector hooked up for movies, blankets in every corner.

You rotate who gets to pick the movie (Sungchan keeps choosing weird action flicks and Sohee only ever wants to rewatch Rush Hour) and every hangout ends with someone yelling over who ate the last bag of gummies.

One night Sungchan brought over edibles from his college roommate Eunseok. You were hesitant at first but Anton nudged your shoulder and said, “why not” so you gave in. You all ended up sprawled out on the carpet of Sohee’s basement laughing at nothing and everything, whispering nonsense while trying not to wake his family upstairs.

At one point Harvey started crying because the ceiling “felt too big,” and Sungchan offered her a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat like it was a solution. Sohee kept trying to freestyle over the Wii music theme and Anton couldn’t stop giggling every time he looked at you.

You don’t remember falling asleep, just that you woke up with Anton’s hoodie draped over you and a bag of marshmallows stuck to your arm. How they got there, you still have no clue.

You’ve also spent time with Anton. There was a week where he decided completely out of nowhere that he wanted to bleach his hair. You helped, obviously. Sat with him in his bathroom while he panicked over the yellow stage, laughed when the toner stained his ears purple and eventually helped him dye it back to black two weeks later when he said he “missed feeling like himself.”

You went on a picnic too, just the two of you at the park where you used to ride bikes as kids. You brought drinks, a bag of chips and laid out an old blanket while he strummed his guitar. It felt a little like slipping back into a memory. Safe and familiar. Comfortable in a way you didn’t even realize you missed.

You’ve texted with Maya here and there. She’s having the time of her life being back home in Japan, eating well, reconnecting with family and promising to bring back enough souvenirs to redecorate the whole dorm. You miss her but you’re glad she’s having fun. If anyone deserved a break, it’s her.

So far, you’d say this summer’s shaping up to be one for the books like you hoped.

Currently, you and Harvey have just pulled into the staff lot five minutes after your shifts have started, windows down, music still playing from your drive in. She’s wearing her “Snack Shack Queen” visor ironically and sipping from a pink water bottle covered in glittery stickers. You’re both still laughing about something Sungchan texted in the group chat.

Harvey parks her beat-up Corolla with a glitter Hello Kitty air freshener dangling from the mirror next to Anton’s Jeep. He usually drives you both but since you crashed at Harvey’s last night, you figured it made more sense to go together, his shift started before yours anyway.

“Tell Loverboy I say hey,” Harvey says, grabbing her apron from the backseat and shooting you a wink.

“He’s not—” you start but she’s already skipping toward the snack bar, waving over her shoulder.

You shake your head, smiling and sling your tote over your shoulder before heading inside. The country club smells like chlorine, sunscreen and money. You pass the front desk and spot Sohee’s station empty, he called in “sick” this morning, which you’re 99% sure just means he didn’t feel like putting on khakis today.

Out by the pool, Anton’s already leaning against the towel cart, arms crossed, hair still damp and glinting in the sun. His name tag is crooked, sunglasses hooked onto the collar of his navy polo like they live there.

“You’re late, I had to fold, like, four towels without you.” He calls out but he’s smiling.

“Tragic,” you deadpan, tossing your bag into the breakroom on the way over. “You want a medal or a hug?”

“A raise, actually.”

You roll your eyes but the corners of your mouth tug upward anyway. He looks good, tanned and relaxed with a confidence he only wears in the summer. You’ve known his face forever but lately it feels like you’re noticing things more than you used to.

The way his shoulders have filled out. The way his hair curls slightly when it’s wet. The way he chews on the edge of his sunglasses when he’s focused. It’s subtle. Barely anything but it’s there. You grab a towel and start folding next to him.

“How’s Sohee?” Anton asks.

“Too sick to answer texts apparently,” you say with a laugh. “But healthy enough to post a gym selfie.”

Anton snorts, shaking his head as he flips a towel. Then after a beat he says, “My dad’s back.”

You glance over, softening. “Yeah?”

He nods once, eyes still on the towel in his hands. “Flew in yesterday. Just for the week.”

You pause. “How do you feel about that?”

He shrugs, like he doesn’t want to think too hard about it. “Happy, I guess. Just wish it was longer.”

There’s more he doesn’t say but you know it’s there. Anton doesn’t talk about his dad much. Not really. You know he wishes he came home more often. That he hates how normal it’s become to miss him.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, my parents invited you over for dinner tonight. You don’t have to come if you’re busy, but my mom thought it’d be nice.”

You smile, folding another towel. “I’d love to. I miss being around her.”

He glances over and the smile he gives you is soft. Grateful. A little relieved. “Cool.”

You finish the last of the towels in silence then the two of you head off to your stations, the sun already climbing higher in the sky.

___

You and Anton clock out right as the sun starts dipping behind the trees, casting everything in a late-summer haze. Your shirt sticks slightly to your back, your name tag is crooked and your tote feels heavier than usual.

Anton unlocks his Jeep with a click and you toss your bag into the back seat before climbing in. The windows are already down helping a bit with the heat. He turns on the car and your phone automatically connects to aux before he can even ask.

You scroll for a bit before settling on a random indie playlist. You’re halfway through the second song when your phone buzzes.

5:47 pm | sungchan 🐸: tell me this isn’t you 😭

The next text is a meme of someone dramatically face-planting into a bed labeled “me after a 5 hour shift of standing still pretending to be helpful” You snort. Another buzz comes in.

5:50 pm | sungchan 🐸: also ur slushie combo is elite don’t let anyone tell you diff brodie 🙏🏻

You giggle, thumbs tapping out a quick reply. Anton glances sideways. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head. “Sungchan went back to the seven eleven to try my slushie combo you all clowned me for and for the record he thinks it tastes great.”

Anton lets out a short laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You two text a lot, huh?”

You glance at him. “I mean…yeah, I guess. He’s funny.”

“Hilarious,” Anton mutters as his fingers tighten slightly on the steering wheel. You blink but say nothing, turning back to your phone.

Anton pulls into his driveway a few minutes later and before he’s even out of the car, you spot someone through the window waving a controller in the air.

Anton helps you out of the jeep and unlocks the front door of his home and allows you to walk in first. “About time,” Junyoung calls from the couch, controller in hand. “I’ve been waiting for backup.”

He looks so different it almost knocks you back. He’s taller than Anton now. Freshly sixteen. Still adorable but no braces, no bowl cut just sharp cheekbones, a deeper voice and the same mischievous grin.

“Excuse me,” you say, stepping inside and tossing your bag down. “I’ve been working. What’s your excuse?”

“Don’t need one,” he says simply, then pulls you into a hug that knocks the air out of you. “Also, Anton still sucks. You’re playing next round.”

Anton scoffs. “You got lucky once.”

You throw yourself onto the couch beside Junyoung grabbing a spare controller with a grin. “Please. You’ve always sucked at gaming.”

“Facts. You remember that one time he rage quit because you beat him three rounds in a row?” Junyoung says smirking as he unpauses the game.

Anton groans behind you. “That was like eight years ago.”

“It’s okay, Ton. Losing builds character.” You say sweetly, nudging Junyoung with your shoulder.

He’s about to retaliate, probably with a pillow to your face when the soft sound of footsteps interrupts. Anton’s mom appears from around the corner, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

“There she is,” she beams, already pulling you into a warm hug. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

You hug her back tightly. “I’ve missed you too.”

She pulls back just enough to cup your face in both hands. “It’s been too long.”

“I know! I’m sorry for not coming by sooner. Summer’s been more packed than I expected.” You say bashfully.

She waves off your apology with a soft cluck of her tongue. “As long as you come by again before the summer ends, you’re forgiven.”

“Of course! There’s no way I’m leaving without seeing you again.” You say.

That earns you a delighted cheek pinch and a mock stern, “Good. Now, are you hungry?”

“Always.”

“Perfect. I made all your favorites.”

You stare at her shocked. “Wait, seriously?”

She smiles. “You think I don’t remember?”

Your heart swells. “Can I help with anything?”

She waves you off. “No need. I’m sure Junyoung is dying to have you all to himself.”

Junyoung shrugs with a lopsided grin. “She gets me.”

Anton’s dad steps in next, he offers you a hug too, less animated but just as sincere.

“Hi, Welcome home.” You say, suddenly shy.

“It’s good to see you.” He says

You nod, a little overwhelmed. “It’s really good to see you too.”

He pulls back, studying your face for a moment like he’s trying to memorize it. “You’ve grown up well.”

You duck your head, smiling. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad you’re still around, means a lot to me. To all of us.”

You blink a few times, heart tugging at the edges. “Me too.”

He gives your arm a squeeze before turning toward the kitchen to join his wife.

You plop back down beside Junyoung, resuming your spot with the controller and clear your throat. “Okay. Let’s see if you’re actually good or just all talk.”

“Bet,” Junyoung says.

Anton disappears up the stairs to change and you don’t think twice about it at least not until he comes back down a few minutes later with an extra hoodie draped over his arm. Without saying anything, he tosses it into your lap.

You look up at him. “What’s this for?”

He shrugs like it’s obvious. “The AC’s blasting,” he says casually. “You always get cold.”

You blink a few times then smile. “Right.”

You tug it on without thinking. It’s soft and smells faintly like his laundry detergent, the sleeves are a little too long and the collar is stretched, proof it’s been worn a lot.

Your chest tightens in a way that’s becoming more frequent around him. It’s nothing. Just a hoodie you try to remind yourself but it still makes your chest go a little funny.

Maybe it’s because he just knows. He doesn’t ask, he just knows. Little stuff you don’t even realize you’ve said out loud like how you always run cold or that you sleep better with background noise or that you hate when your food touches on the plate even if you pretend it doesn’t matter.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

“Anytime.” He says as he shrugs like it’s nothing.

You settle deeper into the couch, tugging the sleeves over your hands and letting the warmth wrap around you. Anton turns his attention to the screen, where Junyoung is still mid-game yelling something about lag and you pulling him down.

You glance over at Anton once more and wonder when this started feeling different. When something so small, so simple began to mean so much.

Soon, Anton’s mom calls everyone to dinner and Junyoung is the first to jump up, already bragging about how he carried the team.

You and Anton follow behind and the smell hits you instantly. His mom has always been an incredible cook and the dining table proves it. Bowls of banchan, platters of rice, soy-glazed chicken, kimchi pancakes still steaming. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Anton’s dad pours sparkling water into your glass before settling across from you and his mom gestures for you to sit wherever you’d like. You slide into the seat beside Anton without thinking.

“So,” his mom says brightly, already passing you the rice spoon, “how’s school?”

You sigh and give a small laugh. “It’s…fine. I’m ready to be done.” Everyone laughs at that. Even Anton lets out a knowing groan.

“Any plans for after graduation?” his dad asks.

You shrug. “Thinking of taking a gap year. Traveling a little before applying to grad school.”

“Ooh, I love that,” his mom says, eyes lighting up. “Where to?”

You rattle off a few places; Shanghai, maybe Spain, somewhere in West Africa if you can swing it. His dad nods. “Do you know what your concentration will be?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “Lately I’ve been leaning toward cancer research but it’s still a little fuzzy.” Anton hums beside you, like he’s storing the answer somewhere.

Then with barely a beat his mom tilts her head. “And what about dating? Anyone special?”

You choke on your water a little, coughing into your sleeve. Anton groans immediately. “Mom,” he says, dragging the word out like a sigh.

“What? I’m just asking. You’re gorgeous and smart. Don’t tell me no one’s caught your eye.” She says smiling innocently.

You laugh awkwardly but politely. “No, there’s no one right now. I haven’t really thought about it much lately.”

“Mmm, what about Sungchan?” She says then smiles again.

That makes you pause. “Wait—how do you know Sungchan?”

“I saw the photo strips,” she says with a little twinkle in her eye.

Oh. Right.

You’d completely forgotten about those. A few weeks ago all five of you had gone to Boston on a whim. No plans, just the weekend off and nowhere to be. You’d convinced everyone it would be fun. Harvey wanted to thrift, Sungchan wanted an excuse to wear his bucket hat, Sohee said he knew a good boba spot and Anton didn’t even need convincing.

You took the train into the city and spent the morning biking around the reflecting pool weaving past couples on picnic blankets and kids chasing each other through fountains. The five of you looked ridiculous riding in a single file line, Anton almost crashed into a tree trying to get a video of Harvey singing One Direction off-key.

You drifted in and out of thrift stores, tried on sunglasses you didn’t plan to buy and dragged the boys into little boutiques on Newbury with Harvey. Sungchan found a pink faux fur jacket and wore it for twenty minutes before the shop owner asked if you were planning on purchasing anything.

You ended your trip at a hole-in-the-wall record store where there was a photobooth hidden away inside. You took one group strip first, crammed shoulder to shoulder props half-falling off, the flash going off before you were ready.

You remember Sungchan's arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer at the last second. In one of the shots, you and Anton are smiling at each other and the rest of the frame is a blur of laughter and too many hands trying to hold up signs that said things like “hot stuff” and “assalicious.”

After that you and Anton took one together just the two of you. You don’t remember much about what you were doing (laughing probably) but you remember the feeling.

The warmth of him beside you in that cramped booth. The way he nudged the silly heart glasses higher on your head. You’d meant to keep the strips in your tote, maybe stick them on your mirror when you got home but now that his mom mentioned it…you must’ve left them in his car.

You clear your throat. “He’s nice,” you say carefully. “Funny. Cute, I guess. I don’t know if he’s interested though.”

She nods in understanding and asks Anton about the Country Club. You’re not shocked at how easily she jumps from questioning you about your love life to a casual conversation with her son about work.

No, what surprises you and catches you a little off guard though is that your heart doesn’t jump. It doesn’t flutter. Doesn’t twist or do any of the things it’s supposed to do when someone mentions a boy who might like you and that’s strange, isn’t it?

If you’re being honest, Sungchan was a highlight that day. He made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt when he tried to mimic a Boston accent and failed miserably. He offered to carry your tote bag without asking.

At one point, he walked beside you while you searched for somewhere to grab dessert and gently guided you away from an oncoming cyclist by your waist. It was the kind of casual touch that should’ve made your stomach flip but it didn’t. It was sweet. He’s sweet but that’s not what your brain lingers on.

You think about Anton standing at the boba shop counter, ordering and paying for your drink without needing to ask. You were all sitting along the curb outside, legs stretched out taking some polaroids. He didn’t even look at you when he slid the drink into your hand, just nudged your arm and said, “stay hydrated.”

You think about the matcha cream puff you couldn’t finish and how he took the last bite like it was nothing then wiped a bit of powdered sugar from your cheek. No one saw but it stuck with you.

There was also the walk back to the station. You were tired, arms full of snacks and shopping bags and Anton reached out without a word to take the heavier ones. A minute later, your hands brushed. Then again and on the third pass, he took yours gently and held it the rest of the way.

You also think about the tiny corner gift shop at the station, where you were killing time before the next train. You’d wandered off from the group, flipping through a rack of silly trinkets and keychains when Anton joined you, holding up a set of tiny peaches; one smiling, one frowning.

“So you don’t lose your keys,” he said, voice teasing but quiet.

You snorted. “You’re so annoying. I don’t lose my keys that often.”

But he still bought them.

Later that night on the train, he clipped the frowning one to your keys while you weren’t looking. You only noticed after he dropped you off at home and you pulled them out of your tote. The smiling one showed up a few days later, hooked to the strap of his duffle bag.

Anton doesn’t say anything. You glance over and he’s still eating but slower now. Focused a little too hard on pushing rice across his plate like it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

The conversation keeps going. His mom is asking about dessert. Junyoung’s already halfway through his second helping. His dad pours another glass of wine and says something that makes everyone laugh but it all blurs around you.

The truth is, your heart does flutter. It does twist and tighten and pull in that annoyingly dizzying way you’ve always associated with feelings you told yourself you didn’t have. They were so woven into everything that you didn’t notice when they shifted into something else.

You look down at your plate and suddenly you’re not as hungry because it’s in that moment that it dawns on you…you’re in love with your best friend.

You stay quiet for the rest of dinner, laughing where you’re supposed to, answering questions when asked but your mind is still back there. Looping through little things—glances, touches, inside jokes that suddenly feel like more. Anton offers to drive you home. You nod.

The ride is quiet. The playlist from earlier still playing low. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and you pick at your cuticles.

“Sorry about my mom,” he says eventually, voice softer now. “She’s just nosy.”

You force a smile. “It’s fine. She’s sweet.” He glances over. You don’t meet his eyes. Your throat feels too tight.

When he pulls into your driveway, you unbuckle your seatbelt a little too fast. “Thanks again. For the ride and dinner.”

He starts to say something, maybe to ask what’s wrong but you’re already out the door, waving. “Night, Anton.”

You don’t mean for it to sound rushed but it does. You shut the door gently almost guiltily and don’t look back as you walk up your porch steps. He stays there for a beat before finally driving off.

The second you’re inside you drop your tote in the hallway and lean against the door. The realization crashes over you again like a wave. You’re in love with Anton.

You fumble for your phone, thumbs shaking slightly as you scroll through your contacts. The tears don’t fall right away. You rush up the steps into your bedroom to avoid facing your parents. Once you’re in your room you close the door and hit call.

It’s 10 PM your time somewhere past noon in Japan but Maya answers on the third ring, eyebrows raised and hair in a messy bun. “Hey! I was literally about to text—wait. What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

You open your mouth but the tears slip out before you can stop them. Maya sits up fast. “Wait—what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

You shake your head quickly, wiping at your cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m just—Maya…”

“Hey, hey, slow down, what happened?” She says softly, her voice losing its playfulness.

“I think I’m in love with Anton.”

She pauses. Doesn’t tease. Doesn’t laugh. She just exhales like she already knew. “Okay.”

You sniff, surprised. “Okay?”

“Yeah. Tell me what happened.” She says.

You wipe your eyes and tell her everything. About the night of the storm, about dinner, about the hoodie, about the way it just hit you all at once. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. It’s so obvious now.”

Maya listens quietly, nodding like she’s been waiting for this call for years.

“But he doesn’t like me,” you add quickly. “Not like that. He’s never said anything and if I tell him it’ll ruin everything.”

Maya’s deadpan. “____. The boy gave up his summer to work a minimum-wage job at a country club with you.”

You frown. “It’s not like that. We’ve always done stuff together. It’s tradition.”

She actually scoffs. “Okay, what about the time he walked across campus in the rain just to bring you cough drops because your throat was sore? Or how he always waits outside your last class so you don’t have to walk back to the dorms alone, even when it’s freezing? He doesn’t do that for anyone else.” You open your mouth to argue but she keeps going.

“He’s the one who made you that dumb finals playlist when you were stressed remember? And brought you hot chocolate when your cramps were bad. He even learned how to fold your laundry the way you like because you hate when your shirts get wrinkled.”

She’s not even teasing anymore. She’s just listing things. Facts. Things you somehow forgot until now.

“He brings an extra hoodie to study nights without saying why, brings an extra charger in case you forget, reminds you to eat before exams, he carries your bag when your shoulder’s acting up.”

Each example lands a little heavier than the last. Maya gives you a second, then says softly, “All that isn’t just sweet. That’s someone who’s paying attention.”

She waits for you to say something but when you stubbronly stay silent she says. “That’s someone who’s equally in love with you.” You sniff in response.

It’s one thing to feel it, the persistent ache you’ve been brushing off all summer but it’s another to hear it spoken out loud. Plain, true and undeniable. Your voice comes out small. “But what if I’m wrong?”

“You’re not.”

“But what if I ruin everything?”

Maya doesn’t flinch. “Then you ‘ruin’ it for the right reason.” She says with air quotes.

You pull your knees to your chest, hoodie sleeves covering your hands. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t. You know him. Anton wouldn’t walk away just because things got complicated. He’s not wired like that.” She says gently.

Still, your silence stretches long. Maya’s voice softens even more. “Just sit with it. Don’t panic. I’m not saying confess your love tomorrow or anything.”

You let out the weakest laugh imaginable.

She smiles. “Just…think about it. Let it be true for a while. See what it feels like.”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. Okay.”

There’s a quiet beat between you, like the calm after the storm. Maya’s eyes are kind through the screen. She doesn’t say I told you so, doesn’t tease, just sits with you in the moment. Your phone buzzes and you glance down at the notification banner.

9:10 pm | sungchan 🐸: kickback @ mine tmr u losers in?

You read it twice. Maya notes your expression. “Groupchat?”

You nod. “Sungchan’s throwing something tomorrow.”

“You gonna go?”

“Yeah, I think I need the distraction.” You murmur.

Maya hums. “It’ll be good. Just…don’t avoid Anton okay? He doesn’t know what you’re feeling. If you pull away now he might think it’s about him.”

You nod again. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Good and text me the second anything happens. Happy, awkward—whatever. I want updates.”

You smile and nod. “Thanks, Maya.”

“Of course, that’s what best friends are for. Now go to bed and call me tomorrow. I still want to finish our Vampire Diaries rewatch.”

You laugh. “You just want to yell at Damon again.”

“He deserves it.”

You hang up with a grateful goodbye then scroll back to the groupchat that’s now lighting up your lockscreen.

9:13 pm | harvey 👽: sungchan can u get more edibles and should i bring snacks 9:13 pm | sungchan 🐸: i’ll ask eunseok 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 9:14 pm |sohehe🕺🏻: i’ll bring beer 9:14 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: also can we crash at yours sungchan? don’t feel like driving after 9:16 pm | you: does ur house have a pool it’s gonna be 90 degrees 😭 9:16 pm | sungchan 🐸: duh. bring ur hottest bikini 😉

You snort and thumbs down the message.

9:17 pm | you: reported for harassment. 9:18 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: bro u flirt like a 2007 facebook status 9:20 pm | sungchan 🐸: y’all are just jealous i’m bringing the ✨vibes✨ 9:20 pm | ton 🦕: you’re bringing a headache. 9:20 pm | you: chat he’s already sighing and we haven’t even left the house 9:21 pm | ton 🦕: i’m sighing because i know i’ll be the one cleaning up after you gremlins 9:22 pm | you: anyways can someone bring uno 9:22 pm | harvey 👽: ooo and the karaoke mic 9:23 pm | sungchan 🐸: oh it’s so over for y’all 9:23 pm | ton 🦕: if you bring that mic i’m leaving 9:23 pm | you: you say that every time and you stay the longest?? 9: 24 pm | harvey 👽: and hog the mic like it’s your world tour 9:24 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: WHO is this diva 9:25 pm | sungchan 🐸: bro sings like simon cowell is in the room 9:25 pm | ton 🦕: i hate you all. what time should we be there 9:26 pm | sungchan 🐸: idk maybe like 1 9:27 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: i’m not bringing sunscreen someone better share 9:30 pm | you: i got u 🫦 9:31 pm | sohehe🕺🏻: 🫤 that emoji was unnecessary.

You’re about to turn off your phone when it starts buzzing again but this time with a FaceTime from Harvey. You answer and her face fills the screen framed by fairy lights and the beginnings of her skincare routine. She’s got one of those fluffy headbands on, the kind with little bear ears and she’s holding a popsicle like it’s a microphone.

“Heyyy,” she sings, already grinning. “Can I come over in the morning to get ready with you?”

You nod, shifting on your blanket. “Only if you drive to Sungchan’s.”

Harvey snorts. “Obviously. You act like I trust you behind the wheel of any vehicle.” You laugh and tell her to shut up, she laughs as well but then her expression shifts still playful, just a little more curious.

“Also, random question, what’s going on with you and Sungchan?” She asks, tilting her head.

You balk at her “Me and Sungchan?”

She shrugs, licking her popsicle. “I don’t know. Just…I’ve picked up on some flirting. Has something happened?”

You shake your head. “No. Not on my end at least. He’s just a cool friend.”

Harvey hums like she doesn’t entirely buy it but isn’t surprised either. “Cool. Still team Anton, though.”

Your breath catches slightly but you force a smile. “Harv…”

“What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.” She says with a lazy grin.

You don’t say anything to that. You could and you probably should but the words don’t come. Not yet, not when your heart still feels like it’s trying to catch up with itself.

“Anyway,” she says, glancing at the time, “I’ll be there at ten. Charge the karaoke mic.”

You nod. “Night, Harv.”

“Night, girly pop.”

The call ends and you set your phone facedown on the nightstand. You collapse onto your bed and stare up at the ceiling.

Tomorrow you’ll have to see him again smile like nothing’s changed and pretend everything hasn’t completely shifted beneath your feet. You roll onto your side, pressing your face into the hoodie he gave you, the sleeves still bunched at your wrists.

You don’t know what comes next, you don’t know what it’ll mean if he doesn’t feel the same. You don’t know if you’re ready to find out. For now, you just lie in bed still and silent, hoping that somehow when the sun comes up, you'll know what to do.

#riizingwish’s recs 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

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