#fluff klance

Keith punches his arm in annoyance but there’s a small playful grin on his lips and Lance calls it a win.They make it to the common room without any casualties and of course, their friends also notices that fact.

“Hey, look at that! Keith managed to get Lance without killing him on the way.” Shiro cheers, cackling when Keith throws a cushion at him, provided by Matt.

“Oh, come on, we haven’t tried to killed each other since, I don’t know? A year?” Lance says, rolling his eyes at the words.

“I wonder why.” Hunk giggles behind his palm, doing absolutely not a good job on hiding his mischievous grin, wiggling his eyebrows at Lance in a manner that tells the brunet that Hunk knows way too much for his own good.

Shiro is next to pass the cushion to Lance, who nods in thanks before hitting Hunk on the face with it.

“Ow! Man down!”

Matt clicks his tongue then, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. “It’s so unfair, though? Like, I always hear about these epic wild competitions between these two nerds back then they were rivals and it was before I was part of the group!”

“Hey, you were the one who wanted to go study an entire year in Germany, remember?” Pidge says, raising one finger up in accusation, shaking it near her brother’s face.

Matt scoffs and waves if off. “Well yeah, but I didn’t know I was going to miss all the fun? Now, all I get to see between these two nerds it’s awkward pini -”

The cushion that collides with Matt face don’t allows him to finish that sentence.

“Awkward pine trees.” Keith says, clapping his hands nervously and shifting on his seat innocently, as if he hadn't just thrown like a missile the cushion at Matt two seconds ago, “Man, I hate those pine trees too.”

Lance arches an eyebrow. “What?”

“Awful save.” Shiro deadpans, and Lance can’t even repeat his own question because really what the fuck before Allura makes herself present, a bunch of paper bags and empty bowls hanging from her hands.

“Alright, you beasts! Food is here and so is your queen!” Allura shouts, big grin on her face as she drops the bags on the couch, next to Lance.

Lance looks up to meet her eyes before he frowns. “You are not Beyonce.”

“Imma punch you, Lance, and when you get the concussion, maybe then I will be Beyonce.”

“Touché.”

Allura laughs, mouth opening to continue before she catches sight of Keith on the other side of the room and she scowls.

“Oh, Lord, you actually bought the transition ones?” Allura sighs, shaking her head like a disappointed mother before scoffing in mock exasperation when Keith only shrugs.

“What? It’s like sunglasses and ‘seeing’ glasses all in one.” Keith says nonchalantly, smiling back at Allura innocently.

Allura doesn’t look impressed but she let’s it go, waving him off as she takes seat on the ground. “If you say so, Hipster Wannabe.”

“Rude.”

“I think they suit him!” Matt chimes in, throwing himself on top of Allura from behind, his chin on her shoulder, “Besides, his eyes get this cool mysterious navy blue tone behind the dark lenses, ya know?”

“My eyes are just blue, asshole.” Keith laughs, kicking Matt on the hip as he sits on the couch behind him.

Hunk hums, shaking his head as he flops himself on the floor next to Pidge. “Nah, they are like, a deep shiny blue, close to grey, maybe?”

“Wanna bet?” Shiro mumbles under his breath and yelps when the cushion collides with the back of his head, “Ow? Keith, dude!”

“People, people, yes, Keith has eyes are blue or something; can we please watch the movie, now?” Pidge whines, raising her arms to the air as she lays on the floor, a blanket poorly wrapped around her frame.

“Yeah! Come on, I want some action and some pow, pow, pow!” Lance says excitedly, throwing himself to the couch next to Keith, all while ignoring the way his heart flutters in excitement when his arm brushes against Keith’s.

“What are those?” Keith asks, arching an confused eyebrow, and four pairs of eyes light up at the words.

“We are not having this discussion again!” Allura cuts in abruptly, waving her hands at all four Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, who purse their lips in defeat, “Just please play the movie, Shiro.”

“Aye, aye, Princess.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about! I’m never here for the good embarrasing inside jokes!”

“Germany, Matt!”

Friendship with Keith didn’t start at the beginning. It took Lance almost a year to admit that he was considered as a friend and two more months to admit that actually no, he’s a crush and a guy Lance’s pretty much in love with.

It started slow. It started with movie nights with the gang and surprised laughs after some particular shenanigans. It grew with study session and moments of vulnerability, where Keith would confess that he’s afraid of letting his adopted parents down at college, of being left behind for not being good enough and be alone again, like in the beginning with no family and no purpose.

It developed and formed over drunken nights, between uncontrollable giggles before they turned into sobs as Lance poured out every single insecurity inside him, letting himself for once be held in Keith’s arms as the other teen comforts him with a soft voice he had never used with Lance before.

It got stronger after every fight and argument, when behind angry words was raw concern and worry. It settled down after quiet apologies and steady fist pumps, sealing a bond they didn’t realized it was there.

Lance doesn’t know how, when or why he fell for Keith, but he guesses it was somewhere within those times. His freckles might glow a color that won’t match Keith, but Lance can’t seem himself to regret any of it.

The common room is silent, except for Hunk’s snores and Matt’s whining when Shiro’s feet accidentally kick him on the ribs in his sleep. Lance blinks then, the movie credits blurry before he rubs his eyes slowly.

The screen turns black, the background music of the movie finally fading out and leaving Lance to focus on the heavy but warm weight on his right side. He turns his head slightly, eyes focusing on Keith’s face as he breaths slowly near Lance’s shoulder.

Lance smiles, soft and fond, before he carefully grabs Keith’s glasses that are hanging too low on his nose and takes them off, holding his breath in hopes not to disturb the sleeping teen and then sighing in relief when all Keith does is to frown unconsciously, burying his face closer to the couch.

Lance stares then, himself shifting on his seat, half laying on his side, facing Keith. This is what he wants. This is who he wants and Lance is more than okay if Keith doesn’t glow with him, Lance knows that now, because he would rather have Keith by his side than anyone else.

“Wha ‘ime ish it?” Keith mumbles quietly, words muffled against the couch’s surface and Lance’s eyes widen in surprise while Keith’s stay closed.

“You’re awake?” Lance asks softly, leaning closer to Keith’s face.

“Yeah, you’re thinkin’ too loud.” Keith murmurs tiredly and Lance huff, “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just - ya know, thinking how ugly your hair is.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keith chuckles, making a face as he stretches on the spot and then slowly blinks his eyes open. “You’re one to talk, have you seen your bed hair? Wild as fuck.”

Lance’s mouth open to answer with his own witty comeback but then forgets how to breathe when he meets Keith’s eyes.

“Lan -? Oh.” Keith gasps, two big and wide eyes glowing brightly purple back at Lance’s blue ones, moving from one side of his face to the other one, “Wha - You? Your freckles, Lance, your color -”

“Our color.” Lance breaths out, a small excited smile twitching in the corner of his mouth, “Our - Keith, Keith, we got a color.”

“I got you.” Keith says instead, smile beaming as he pushes himself forward into Lance’s space, “Dude, oh my god, I didn’t - I thought - !”

“When? How?” Lance asks, wincing when someone of their friends below them grumble in annoyance. He lowers his voice, “Keith, when did you get those anime eyes? You look like a main character from an old anime.”

“Those ‘Main Anime Character’s eyes’ are our soul link, you asshat.” Keith huffs, rolling his eyes mockingly, “A few weeks ago, a day before my eyesight exam -”

“Oh, you ass, you bought the transition ones to cover the glow?” Lance hisses, mouth wide open in offense when Keith smiles sheepishly, “Keith!”

“Hey, hey, now! I just - I got them a few weeks ago, right after we went to the movies, you know when Pidge ‘accidentally’ dropped her soda on the guy on the phone on the row below us?” Lance nods quickly and Keith continues, “Yeah, well, that night I came home and I dunno what did it, but one moment I was thinking about you and the lame joke you had said earlier and the next thing I know Shiro’s screaming bloody murder and throwing shit at me -”

“What the - ?”

“To be fair, all he saw in the darkness were like these two big glowly circles in the middle of our dorm room, I would freak too.” Keith says, shrugging his shoulders and smiling when Lance laughs.

“Oh my god, Keith.” Lance shakes his head in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell us, though? Why didn’t - Didn't you want to find your soulmate? Before you knew it was me, didn’t you want -”

“But I didn’t want my soulmate,” Keith cuts in, desperately and hurried, “I wanted - I want you, Lance.”

Lance’s world stops.

“I didn’t want anyone else if they weren’t you, because I want you. I want your lame jokes, your loud greetings, your smiles and your laugh.” Keith offers a small shy smile, quickly wetting his lips before he takes a deep breath and continues, “I just want you, for who you are; as Lance and my best friend.”

“Keith,” Lance says quietly, voice wet and wobbly but Keith doesn’t let him finish.

“That’s all I ever wanted, I just never thought I could have this - you.” Keith whispers and Lance’s soul exits his body.

“You can have me,” Lance mumbles, biting down his lower lip in a weak attempt to control his the growing happy smile on his mouth, “But only if I can have you too.”

It takes Keith a few seconds before he beams back at him.

Keith smiles, soft and happy, hand raising slowly until it rest against Lance’s cheek, thumb caressing the surface of his skin, tracing each and every single freckles on display. Lance could honestly close his eyes, to enjoy the sensation of Keith’s fingers on his skin, the warm and tingle they leave behind as they move across his face but then he wouldn't see those two orbs staring right at him.

Keith looks at him as if he was a nebulae itself, with such awe and tenderness that Lance’s sure his heart will explode any minute now.

But it doesn’t, and Lance allows himself to melt under Keith’s touch and lose himself in Keith’s eyes, enjoying to see their soul link, their color, for once outside the mirror.

Then Keith’s eyes shift, looking down for half a second but it’s enough for Lance to know his intentions.

“You got yourself a deal, then.”

“But you hate the beach,” said his older brother once, with a confused frown.

Letting a little bit exasperated sigh leave his mouth, Keith only nodded at that. After all, that was the truth and he couldn’t argue with him on that, even though he wanted to. Everything he explained to them was enough, and he didn’t have the chance to be picky with a job when he was so desperate to get one back then. And anyways, neither his brother nor friends needed to know that a tiny, small reason to not hate the job that much was looking at the surfers every morning. That was just a little bonus that made mornings easier for him to handle.  He had to find a good side of working just across the street from the ocean.

But he couldn’t keep it a secret for long. One of those very first mornings that Pidge, his best friend, passed by to say hi —and maybe get some free coffee—, they noticed. Apparently, Keith wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was while stealing some quick glances at the window to check a really, really far away tanned-looking guy. He couldn’t see his face, partly because of the distance and partly because he always gave him his back, or entered the ocean and left quickly. Pidge contemplated the idea of not telling him, to let their friend think they didn’t know anything. But when he accidentally spilled the cup of coffee all over the counter they were sitting on, they couldn’t help it.

“Oh, I get it now,” they said with an evil grin, catching his friend’s attention.

“Huh?”

“So… what’s his name?” Pidge asked, while passing him a few napkins they had near.

Keith grabbed them and started cleaning what his lack of attention had caused, praying for the manager not to enter the store, and thanking the universe that the cup didn’t break.

“Who’s name?”

“That tanned surfer that caused, well, this,” they answered, pointing at what had just happened.

His dark eyes met theirs green ones, which sparkled with a roguish shine. He knew that look too well; he had many memories attached to it. Adventures that mostly didn’t have happy endings, but ones he never regretted. And he had the feeling that one of those would come again soon.

“I don’t know… what you are… talking about?” he tried.

And damn it, it wasn’t supposed to sound like a question. He thought perhaps he could lie to Pidge. Pretend that he didn’t know what they were trying to get at, or more precisely to whom. So he held the look a few seconds, until he gave up. He had a lot of stuff to do in the shop to be focusing on that. Rolling his eyes, he whispered, “Don’t start.”

They grinned even bigger at that.

“Oh, little Keithy has a crush,” they sang.

“Please never call me that again.”

In that very moment a customer entered the shop, and he let out a sigh of relief, going to the cashier to get their order with his best “i-don’t-hate-this-job-at-all” smile. Pidge told him that they wouldn’t let go of the subject that easily, but he pretended not to hear them, a small smile on his lips.

He had to go back to reality, the list of days pushed to a side, and the memories of that day in the coffee shop with his friend as well, because his co-worker wouldn’t stop poking the side of his stomach, uncaring that he had two cups completely full of coffee on the verge of spilling in his hands that he was on his way to deliver.

“Lance, stop it already,” he asked him, but still stopping next to him to hear what he had to say.

“Blonde, approximately 5’8 feet tall, at your three o’clock,” said the brunette in a whisper while he was saving the money inside the casher.

“I have no idea of what you just said.” Keith deadpanned.

“At your right, Keith, the table number seven.”

It was then when he started looking through the crowd of people and tables and found him, the guy that fit that description. He was definitely on his twenties like them, he supposed, and was reading a book while highlighting some words from it. Keith couldn’t help but curse in really low tone, because that guy was wearing a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and that was one of his biggest turn-ons if he was being honest.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“The first one that gets his number doesn’t have to close tonight!” Lance dared as quickly as possible, before rushing to the boy’s table, not having any more customers to attend.

It took him a few seconds to process what the blue eyed boy had said, and it wasn’t until he saw him get close to the blonde guy that he understood it. It was another of Lance’s regular bets and competitions, but he never backed off one. He took a quick glance at the sticky note that the cups of coffee he was holding to see to which table they corresponded, and noticed that the black Americano was, indeed, for the table number seven.

While he approached the table, he got to hear one of Lance’s pick up lines being said to him, to what the boy answered with a shy smile, said something that he didn’t got to hear, and looked down to his book again.

“Here is your coffee, please enjoy,” he smiled politely when he got to the table, placing it a bit far from the blonde’s book.

At the sound of his voice the guy looked up to find Keith’s captivating dark eyes, so dark that some people might see them as an obscure purple. The smile on Keith’s lips was replaced with an apologetic grin on behalf of his co-worker’s attitude. Lance saw that and mocked him.

Lance stole the last look at a certain table while going back to the front side of the coffee shop, seeing that there were a few customers in line in a matter of seconds. He was still looking from time to time, taking the new orders. One of his best pick up lines didn’t work this time with that guy, based off the fact he never really received an answer from him.  And in this very exact moment, he was regretting doing that bet. He really didn’t want to close this time, because back at his apartment a new episode of the show he recently had started watching was waiting for him. He didn’t want to miss it, he couldn’t afford missing it. He knew he wouldn’t be able to watch it online later, due to the fact that he didn’t have WiFi anymore.

He couldn’t afford it, living the college life wasn’t anything near to luxurious. To the point that he had accepted living without wireless internet to pay rent, and eating something else that wasn’t instant noodles every day. He couldn’t understand sometimes why when he was a teenager he was so eager to go to college. Of course it was all the adrenaline of starting a new phase of his life, leaving the nest, and all of that stuff they show in movies. The independence and living without the constant over watch from your parents was something exciting, but he really missed home. And his mom’s cooking.

He was so deeply grateful to share his apartment with his best friend Hunk, because he made him feel a lot more like home. Not only with his amazing meals, but his friendship also.

“Hey, Lance,” Keith called, passing by his side grabbing some new orders to deliver to their tables.

When he glanced at him, a tiny proud smirk was drawn on his lips, holding a napkin in between his fingers next to his face. In rushed handwriting, a number was there, a little hard to read thanks to the neon green highlighter. Lance sighed in defeat.

A few hours later, ten pm was arriving and the coffee shop was empty now. Their other co-worker Lucy, a middle aged nice and caring woman, had left already. Not without smashing her typical hot pink kisses on their cheeks, as usual. Lance had finished cleaning the machines already, and tried repairing one again. He made a mental note to ask Hunk for help later at night, ask him if he could pass by and check it out later due to his engineering skills.

Soft indie music was playing low through the speakers, while Keith and Lance were silently finishing their chores, cleaning some tables and mopping the floor.  A comfortable silence was settled between them, one they were pretty used to by now. It had been three years since the day Lance had started working there with him, and even though neither of them would say it out loud, they had bonded pretty closely.

Working six days a week, eight hours each make two people know each other really well, and there was no way they wouldn’t connect. Of course they had this constant and dumb rivalry at the beginning, which developed into some playful competitions. They also got the Fridays Movie Nights and Wine, when their  entire group of friends would catch up and have a relaxing time they all needed by the end of the week.

Despite their completely different personalities, they blended well with each other. Lance was everything Keith was not. An extrovert, loud, and easy to approach. People always felt that they connected with him after a few minutes getting to know him and they smiled easily, loosened up next to him. That was at least how Keith always saw it when they went out to bar or something like that. It didn’t bother him at all, Lance knew he wasn’t a big fan of making friends, Keith had this policy of “if someone is meant to enter your life, they will”, and that was it. In contrast, Lance tries. He never told anybody, but it was easy for people to notice. How in every place they go, Lance tries to get people to like him.

“Keith Kat, my buddy, my friend…”

Keith knew a favor was coming.

“When will you leave the Keith Kat behind?”

“Never, it goes perfectly with your grumpy cat personality,” the boy laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

“Whatever, the answer is no.”

“Oh, come on!” Lance protested, getting closer to him. “Please…” begged, putting his hands together. “I need you to close this time, I really don’t want to miss this new episode tonight.”

Keith finished his table and turned around to look at him.

“So I got that stranger’s number… for nothing?” he wondered, crossing his arms over his chest, with his best “ you gotta be kidding me” look.

“Kogane, really? I’d really like to have the number of a guy like that.”

“If you want it I can give it to you? I don’t feel like seeing someone right now” he shrugged, putting his hand in his back pocket of his black jean to look for that napkin.

But suddenly a warm hand was placed over his, and his eyes moved quickly to the ocean ones in front of them, eyebrows pulled together slightly, confused.

“It doesn’t work like that, Keith,” Lance said and smiled, softly and kind.

In three years they had learned a lot of different, little things about each other that went beyond their favorite candy, movie or conspiracy theory. Some small things like how Keith, sometimes, didn’t get a lot of certain social characteristics, or behaviors. Like the detail of the napkin, it was stuff like that he had sometimes a hard time to process. None of this made him less intelligent or anything like that, it was just one of his personality treats. Some people couldn’t understand it, and every time Lance remembered them, he felt this certain anger take over. But he shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. There weren’t  many types of people he couldn’t get along with, because he felt he didn’t have the right to judge anybody, but there was no way he could get along with people who hurt those he cared about.

Keith finally nodded, understanding what Lance had tried to tell him after holding his look some seconds, and moved his hand back to his hip. Breathing in slowly, he agreed.

“Okay, I’ll close tonight.”

“You are the best, man!”

He watched him sprint back to the kitchen, where they left their stuff on a daily basis, to pick them up.

The next morning, Lance left his apartment in a rush, not without thanking his wonderful best friend for the carry-on mug of coffee he had prepared for him next to a French toast. It might be one of the most normal things, but he could swear that Hunk’s French toasts was a delicacy sent from the above. His friend always smiled timidly at the compliments, a faint blush covering his cheeks. That was the last image he got of him while he exited the room.

He went downstairs, skipping some steps, juggling his backpack and breakfast, while biting some more of that toast at the same time. As always, the elevator was being repaired and unable to be used, which lead him to be even more late. Basically running by now, he got just in time to the bus stop to take his ride. His ride to college was actually an hour and half long, if you didn’t have a car. But anyways, he always tried to put a grateful smile on his face while traveling, nodding his head to the beat of the music in his ear buds.

College was incredibly difficult, on top of how much it cost and the long commute. But it was worth it. His dreams depended on it, and he wouldn’t let his dream of becoming an actor go to waste.

He had been sure of it since he was just a kid, even though it all started as a family joke kind of thing. There wasn’t a day in his childhood that his parents, or brothers and sister, or uncles didn’t call out his dramatic side. He had to remind himself how his dream began sometimes, what made it so worth it the long ride and difficulties. So going back in his memories, he chose that time he had faked a  pretty convincing low blood pressure episode for his mother to give him some of her famous chocolate cookies.

Everyone in the house knew that the quota of cookies that Mamá allowed was limited. One per day for each child, no more, no less.

She was firm when it came to the fact that everyone in the family had to have equal portions of everything, so nobody could complain of things being unfair. But that day, back to when he was six years old, that cookie had been more delicious than usual. He desperately needed another one. Then, he remembered how in the last family birthday his aunt Betty had suffered from an episode of low blood pressure, and everyone in the family had suggested giving her something sweet.

So that was how he entered the kitchen, where his mother was, stumbling a bit and a hand on his head, recreating that scene he remembered so well.

“Mom…?” he said, captivating all her attention.

“What’s wrong, Lance?” she  had asked immediately.

She lowered herself in front of him, placing his hands on his tiny shoulders, her eyes examining his face looking for what was apparently wrong.

“I think… I’m not feeling well… I feel weak and a little dizzy,” he tried to explain.

As soon as she heard that, the brunette woman hurried her small child to the first chair she saw while she began thinking what might be that had him that way.

“I suppose you must have low pressure, hold on, you need something super sweet” she gave him a reassuring smile, and turned around, going straight to where Lance knew the jar of cookies was.

He smiled proudly at himself, content, but said smile didn’t last long. It was erased when he saw how her mother grabbed a small jar rather than the big one he hoped.

“Umh, má? What is that?” He couldn’t help but sound worried.

“Oh, it’s a syrup your abuela gifted me not that long ago, is way too sweet, so it’ll probably make you feel better.” She answered, going near him again.

She poured some of the thick liquid on the bottle cap, and it just took to smelling it for Lance to know that it would taste awful. Frowning, he jumped out of the chair, standing straight and getting away from his mother, dropping all acts.

“Don’t worry má, is okay, I’m seriously feeling better now.”

It was then when his mother let out a giggle, shaking her head slightly, while she put the syrup back on the table. She approached her son and wrapped her strong, big arms around him, squishing him while she kissed the top of his head.

“Ah, the smell of abuela’s syrup, it always works its magic.” She laughed, and her boy raised his eyes to find her warm brown ones. “You should work on your acting, mijo, there’s no doubt you have potential.”

He grumbled, since it didn’t work, and even though he wouldn’t admit it till much later, the idea was left running around his head. He could picture himself doing that, standing in front of an audience that applauded him. Or reading his lines inside his own dressing room, before going to the set. Those thoughts made his heart race back then, just like they did in the present. He felt this kind of electricity run in his veins, excitement building inside him. He felt it as a kind of necessity, something he needed much more than another cookie. A need that, through the time, would become a dream.

His bus stop jostled him out of reminiscing, and he had to run to his first class of the day to make up for the time he lost earlier that morning. Panting, he collapsed in his regular seat. He had still five more free minutes before his professor would come, if she got in time. So he decided to take advantage of those minutes, and rested his head on the desk. He sighed, he felt way too tired and the day had just started. He could take a quick nap in three minutes; he had done that several times by now.

Thirty seconds had approximately passed by, when his phone buzzed on the table. Growling, crossed his arms under his head again and ignored it. But another text arrived, and it went against all of him to ignore that one too.

hunkie pumpkin (7:02): lance, pls dont forget it’s your turn to pick the movie tonight :)

hunkie pumpkin (7:03): Pidge says “not 27 dresses, again”

He smiled at the screen, while he sent a thumb up emoji in reply, and then locked the screen. He didn’t even try on going back to sleep, because while he was reading the message, miraculously his teacher had arrived. So he decided to pay attention and keep his eyes open.

Working on finishing an essay all night last night hadn’t been good for him. His under eye bags were noticeable, no matter how much makeup or creams he tried to apply to them. Nothing really helped, but at least  it prevented him from looking like a zombie. But he thought that, after all, he was a college student. So it was expected for him to look like an actual zombie.

That made him realize how bad he needed a break. And most of all, a good eight hours of sleep. If he could only cancel the movie night, he would have then.

It was their Friday tradition, where all of them would meet up in someone’s house or apartment that was changed every week, and catch up with their lives (as if the groupchat wasn’t enough). He couldn’t cancel, he never had, not even that time he got the flu and all of them were wearing masks covering their mouths and noses. He needed his friends much more than sleep, he needed to laugh and let every stressed out muscle of his body relax. The only ones that could make that happen had always been them.

During the lesson, his phone had started vibrating again. Not once, not even twice, it just wouldn’t stop doing it. To the point it started sliding through the table, near to falling off it. Panic filled his body, afraid of watching his screen break, Lance throw himself over the edge of the table to catch it. A side smile covered his lips, proud of his own reflects.

“Do you need any help, Mr. McClain?” he heard her calling.

He immediately confronted her annoyed gaze.

“No, no, I’m sorry, please continue.” He rushed to say with his best easy smile, but only got a frown from her as an answer while she turned her back to him. He used that moment to take a fast look at the notifications.

“You were added to a new group chat”

(48 new messages from “High School Reunion!”)

“What the…”

He blinked a few times, not believing what he was reading. It couldn’t be, somebody must have added him to the wrong chat.  It had only been five years since he finished high school —thank God—, it hasn’t been that long for someone to want a reunion. But when he decided to start reading the texts, and began recognizing some of their names that once were his classmates, he faced the cold, harsh truth. He would have to attend, and prove them what he had promised years back.