Go ahead. What other bad news do you have to report?

People often discount someone else’s struggles if they cannot physically see them. For instance, no visible attempt or external “evidence.” So, I want to define a few terms first, just to ensure everyone is on the same page:

Suicidal ideation: thoughts or ideas centered around death or suicide. These can manifest as either active or passive.

Active suicidal ideation: specific thoughts, plans, or intentions to end one’s own life. This may involve detailed planning, acquiring means, or expressing urgency. For example: “I’ve been researching ways to overdose on pills.”

Passive suicidal ideation: a wish for death without a clear plan or intent. This may sound like: “I wish I could just disappear,” or “I don’t see the point in living anymore.” Passive ideation often overlaps with suicidal gestures (a term I personally find problematic, but will use here for clarity), which can include attempted suicide or self-destructive behaviors where the risk of death is low.

Both active and passive ideation indicate a person is at risk for suicide. Neither is more “valid” than the other, they are simply different manifestations of the same underlying struggle.

Aventurine actually exhibits all of these throughout the main story quest. For this essay, I’ve organized my analysis into three parts— attempts, gestures, and ideation— with some bonus observations at the end.

Attempts:

First up on the list of instances where Aventurine displays obvious suicidal behavior, would be the time he literally says it in plain english:

I mean… the guy flat out says he has attempted more than once. It doesn’t really get much clearer than that. The only argument someone could make against this being evidence of suicidal tendencies is to say, “Well, it’s in Penacony, so he wasn’t actually going to die.”

First of all, there would be no way he'd truly know that unless it was tested, which if we assume he already had his plan in place by the time he arrived in Penacony, then “testing” death was already on the table, and with Acheron, no less. Not only would that gamble give him his answer, it would push him into the deepest end of the pool. There was no reason to test it before hand, and he didn’t just test it once. He tested it multiple times. The game literally bolds this statement so players don’t miss it, and yet… 😭

So I beg the question: why test death multiple times? Just to be sure? Because he had nothing better to do? Because he wanted to film a TikTok about it? Let’s be serious. There was no reason to test it once, let alone more than once— and that’s the sinister part. He wasn’t just curious. He wasn’t just gathering data. He was torturing himself, skating the razor-thin line between life and death over and over again.

This is why I brought up those definitions in the last section. Because If someone isn't shown literally hanging from the ceiling, many people will discount their struggle and claim they aren't suicidal. It's terrible, but it's true. Not looking "sick" enough is a legitimate issue that drives people with mental health issues deeper into their suffering, because they're convinced they aren't valid and their issues "aren't bad enough". I know some of yall rn are probably like "rory, it's not that deep," but it is. It is that deep. This is why people like Aventurine skirt under the radar all the time. He can literally say to Ratio’s face, “I’ve attempted several times,” and because he’s charming and put-together, players brush it off as a joke. I’ve watched multiple playthroughs where streamers laugh at this line— at least five, which is five too many. People don’t take you seriously unless they can see the pain.

To be clear, I’ve never actually heard someone argue this, and I’m not saying the person who asked me the question thinks this way. I’m playing devil’s advocate because it’s the only counter-argument I can think of. But to dismiss Aventurine’s “attempts” just because they happened in Penacony would be incredibly ghoulish. It’s the same logic as saying, “If someone jumped off a bridge but it wasn’t high enough, were they really suicidal?” Obviously, yes. The intent is what matters. Writing off an attempt just because it didn’t “work” is how we end up with that toxic idea that suicidal people are just “seeking attention.”

So if Aventurine “tested” death in Penacony, knowing he might survive because of the dreamscape— does that make it any less suicidal? No. He wasn’t testing it just for curiosity’s sake. He was explicitly testing whether it would kill him. That’s suicidal behavior. Point blank. Period. If you want to downplay it, then at minimum it qualifies as a suicidal gesture.

Personally, I think this moment— Aventurine casually admitting he “tested it”— works on two levels. On the surface, he delivers it with the same tone he’d use telling Ratio about last night’s lottery numbers. But underneath, it reads as a cry for help, even if he doesn’t consciously recognize it. He does this a lot: casually dropping alarming statements without ever fully confronting them. People who blurt out their pain like that are often hoping someone will notice, even when they can’t bring themselves to ask outright. And Ratio does notice, ofc. He recognizes Aventurine’s pain and responds with genuine concern (and even advice). But the fact that Aventurine defaults to masking it in jokes or “offhand” comments shows how badly he wants to be seen without ever having to admit how much he’s suffering.

The other attempt we are shown during the main story quest, is the Penacony plan !!

First, let’s get it straight: the IPC’s primary goal in sending Aventurine to Penacony was not to investigate “death” specifically, but to regain control of the planet itself. Investigating death was Aventurine’s idea. Yes, he uses it as a legitimate excuse when negotiating with Robin, and yes, his plan does succeed in that he delivers what he promises. But it would be obtuse to write this off as “he was just there on business.” Clearly, there’s a personal reason for his obsession with death and dying, and it makes sense that he would build his strategy around it.

And by all logic, his plan doesn’t make sense for someone in his role. Remember, his official title is Aventurine of Stratagems, Executive Director of the Strategic Investment Department. He’s a strategist. His role is to manipulate, negotiate, and most importantly, stay alive so he can continue pulling strings. A strategist faced with a theory as big as “death exists in Penacony” would normally test it indirectly— send proxies, gather data, force the Family to reveal contradictions. He would prioritize survival because his leverage and reputation depend on being the one to control the board.

Instead, Aventurine stakes his own life as the litmus test. No control group, no safe experiment, no nothing. He provokes a fight with Acheron, the one opponent he has no chance of defeating, fully aware of what could happen. (Obviously, the irony here is intentional — the man named of Stratagems is also the most reckless man alive. But that irony sharpens the point: his recklessness isn’t a flaw of intelligence, it’s an expression of self-destruction.)

What Aventurine shows in Penacony is that his gamble isn’t really about IPC leverage at all. It’s personal. He wants to be the coin tossed by Death, and he isn’t weighing contingencies at all. His “strategic plan” is really a disguised suicide attempt— one he can frame as genius maneuvering if he lives, but which also conveniently delivers the release he craves if he dies. His shadow-self in the Penacony maze calls him out on this several times, hammering home that Aventurine knows exactly what he’s doing.

He’s also aware of the possible outcomes once Acheron lifts her blade. His options are:

A. Survive the blow (unlikely).

B. “Die” in the dreamscape and discover some unknown truth.

C. Die outright, whether in dream or reality.

D. Something stranger— slipping into Nihility’s void, a kind of purgatory-adjacent realm where he might continue briefly before dissolving anyway.

His alter ego even suggests he might be trying to “slip the leash” of the IPC and finally be free. And while no one takes this literally, the implication is clear: the only escape from a position as high as Aventurine’s is death. Whether that means real death, or an escape into a liminal “nowhere,” both end in the same conclusion: annihilation.

If Acheron had followed through, Aventurine’s death could have played out in several ways, all shaped by Nihility’s mercilessness. The most immediate outcome would be a clean end: one strike, reducing him to nothing before he could reconsider. But Nihility might also unravel him, dissolving his very being into silence— a fitting fate for someone who has fantasized about vanishing without a trace. Or it could have been slower, forcing him to feel his fear and despair as his body and identity came apart. In every possible version, the core is the same: Aventurine embraces erasure, knowing full well he cannot predict what will happen. And crucially, he is planning for death. The entire Penacony maze repeats this message over and over. As he's leaving, his shadow self even tells Aventurine—

From a writing standpoint, hoyo wanted his boss fight to feel like a potential death sentence. That tension—that he might die for real, even in a dream—is what makes the scene dramatic. It's why the fandom was so up in arms about it back when it was happening in real time. Nobody really knew for sure if he was alive or not. The aventurine stone lost its light for a while, not even the other Stonehearts knew if he was alive.

And Aventurine himself was fully prepared to let Nihility take him. The only reason he didn’t was because of the wisdom Ratio and Acheron offered him, pulling him back from the brink.

Plus, just as a little bonus, nobody ever really talks about this part, but it was also a massive red flag to me:

He says more after this, but the point is that he starts randomly trauma dumping out of nowhere. This is extremely out of character for Aventurine. You couldn't get this man to tell you how he's feeling if you begged him on your hands and knees. He had to swindle the trailblazer into playing a dice game with him post Penacony just so he had an excuse to mention how poorly he's been doing, and if the trailblazer refuses to play, he just apologizes for being a bother and says nothing at all. He needs to literally plot and scheme just so he has an excuse to tell his friend he's been having nightmares. And before Penacony? Good fucking luck getting this guy to tell you anything genuine about himself. Which is why it's so interesting that he does it here- while it's literally televised, AND he shares one of the most vulnerable parts of his life. Granted, people probably know he was enslaved considering the brand on his neck, but it's still a massive power move to SAY that, publicly, in front of everyone, how much he's suffered. This just reads to me as him knowing full well that he might not make it out of this alive, so he wants to try and set the record straight on how much he suffered just to get here. I personally just can't imagine him telling everybody these intimate details if he was planning on ever seeing them again.

He also already has scheduled messages to send out after the fact, since he doesn't know if he's ever coming back:

All in all, Aventurine’s Penacony gambit can be read as more than a clever strategy; it resembles a disguised suicide attempt. On the surface, he frames the duel with Acheron as a calculated risk, a spectacle where the IPC would benefit no matter the outcome. Yet his choice of method reveals something darker: he deliberately places himself in the most lethal position possible, wagering his life against an Emanator’s blade when safer alternatives existed. In this light, his “test” of whether death exists in the dreamscape becomes a mask for self-destruction. Even if he expected to survive, the fact that death remained a viable outcome suggests that the plan was not only a gamble for control, but also an opportunity to finally stop playing the endless game of survival.

But, someone could argue that Aventurine’s gamble was not truly suicidal, since he would probably survive. A strategist of his caliber would not have risked his life recklessly unless he had calculated his odds of survival to be high. From this perspective, his confrontation with Acheron was simply another display of his confidence and cunning— proof of his ability to manipulate even death into a winning hand. Yet this objection misses the crucial point: suicidality does not always manifest as certainty of death. I've said it 100 times so far, and I'll probably say it 100 more times. This argument is based on the assumption that someone isn't "actually suicidal" unless they have a fool proof plan in place, and this just is not always the case. Often, it appears in the form of reckless indifference, where survival and self-destruction are treated as equally acceptable outcomes. Aventurine may have anticipated living, but he was also prepared— perhaps even quietly hoping— for the alternative. It is this willingness to collapse his survival into a wager that betrays the depressive impulse behind the spectacle.

Gestures:

Here's a question: what's another way to define someone who is not suicidal? I'd argue that it's a person who acts like they want to be alive. You know who doesn't act like they wanna be alive? Mr. Aventurine of Stratagems, everybody !! ^_^

This is one of, if not the very first thing we're told about his character: he's a reckless gambler that uses his life as a poker chip. One example being his first encounter with Jade:

He is literally constantly betting his life or talking about betting his life. We've seen him bet his life more often than he's bet those stupid custom poker chips he had made. He actually bullies himself for this in the Penacony maze (among other things):

From the very beginning, Aventurine’s defining trait is clear: he is a reckless gambler, and his life is the first— and most valuable— stake he’s willing to put on the table. Every plan, every maneuver, every calculated risk carries an undercurrent of self-destruction, because he doesn’t truly value his own survival. His willingness to wager himself first shows just how deeply his obsession with death and nihilism runs, bleeding into every action he takes.

Another iconic gesture would ofc be the Final Victor lightcone:

This is just wild. Imagine meeting someone for the first time and you're like "oh I know, let's play Russian roulette." Mind you, he's not JUST playing Russian roulette: he's playing alone, and taking back to back to back turns. He fires it three times!

Now, at a certain point you just have to start looking at situations like this a bit deeper. Could we write it off as "he's just a crazy man who's extremely lucky and he did this just to show ratio how lucky he is and how he's always in control?" Sure, if we want a lukewarm analysis. Personally, I'm not interested in those, and I don't think the people who wrote this character are, either. Literally in any situation on earth, firing a loaded gun into your chest three times is a suicidal gesture at the VERY least. But, sure, Aventurine is lucky. He know's he'll never lose a gamble.

Right?

That's why his hands shake every time he makes one? That's why he's always clutching onto his last chip under the table? That's why the game went so far to bring attention to the fact that he perpetually views himself as a loser? Aventurine is so, so much more than a crazy man who bumbles around and bets his life over and over again just as a fun party trick to flex his luck.

Then, of course, we have: the smashing of his cornerstone-

I absolutely consider this to be a suicidal gesture. It is reiterated over and over again that for the Stonehearts, their cornerstones are the most valuable thing they have. Their entire being is incapsulated in that stone—it's their core identity, manifested into an object that is literally a piece of themselves. They honor to respect and value it more than they would their lives. Which, Aventurine does, to be fair. He doesn't value himself or his life at all, which is why he had no issue smashing it.

Upon mentioning the cornerstone, his alter ego says:

Aventurine "has an impulse for self destruction," which we of course know. He then continues to belittle himself by saying:

Again, bullying himself for not valuing his own life. There really is no other conclusion that can be drawn here—nobody in their right mind would EVER think to break a cornerstone, idk if that has ever even happened before. Ofc Aventurine frames this as a strategic act, saying its just a part of his plan and framing it as this smart and heroic plan, but his alter ego is literally roasting him for this bc its not true !! Aventurine knows there's more to it than that, and anybody who can't see that is literally falling for his bluff !! That’s the gambler’s excuse for what is, essentially, self-harm.

The consistency of this pattern is telling. A man who truly feared death would not stake his life so casually, so often. Aventurine’s eagerness to use his body as collateral shows a deeper yearning to be rid of it, masked as strategy or bravado. His obsession with high-stakes risk is not simply thrill-seeking, but an ongoing rehearsal of self-destruction. Each gamble is an invitation to death: a test of whether this time his luck will finally run out.

Ideation:

Aventurine’s story in Penacony cannot be understood without addressing his suicidal ideation. It is one of the most consistent undercurrents in his arc, woven not only into his dialogue but into the very structure of his encounters.

This remark, “Good luck makes one powerful, but destiny? Inherently unjust,” reveals a core truth about how he views his life: he sees himself as trapped in a pattern of inevitable suffering. Good luck can be claimed, leveraged, and manipulated. Destiny, however, is beyond his control— and to him, it is cruel. This belief underpins much of his reckless behavior and obsession with death. If the universe is rigged against him, then survival, success, and happiness feel like illusions; the only certainty is that suffering awaits.

That sense of injustice fuels his suicidal ideation. Aventurine doesn’t just flirt with death for thrill— he flirts with it because, in his mind, it might be the only way to escape the relentless unfairness of his existence. He approaches life as a series of tests, experiments, and gambles, but there’s always an undertone of resignation: no matter what he wins, no matter what he accomplishes, destiny will eventually punish him. He's been obsessed with this since he was a child:

He always questioned the concept of suffering, the concept of "luck", the point of being born into a world when all that was waiting for him was, eventually, death (even in this section, when he went back to retrieve his sister's necklace and made a bet, the bet being "who will die first, me or this bird", meaning he spent god even knows how long just staring at this bird waiting for it to die tragically).

Even in the Penacony maze, this belief colors his choices. By courting Acheron and engaging with Nihility, he is actively engaging with a force that represents the ultimate expression of destiny’s cruelty: erasure, nothingness, and the finality he has long imagined. He doesn’t fully expect a “fair” outcome— he expects the universe to follow its inherent injustice. And yet, the very act of pushing toward it is evidence of how deeply this philosophy saturates his thoughts. His life is a constant negotiation between chance, luck, and the inevitability of suffering, and his obsession with death is both a reflection of and a response to that perceived injustice.

Let me, for one second, draw attention to what he says once you beat him in his boss fight:

This is one of my favorite lines of his. “Everybody’s like that down to the last player, so why can’t I be happy too? Why can’t I feel that free?” UGH its so good !!! He sees others around him living, succeeding, and finding joy in the game of life, while he feels perpetually bound by circumstances, expectations, and the weight of his own fate. To Aventurine, life feels inherently unfair— destiny, as he often says, is “inherently unjust.”

This line demonstrates why his obsession with death isn’t just reckless thrill-seeking; it’s a direct response to the despair of feeling trapped in a life that refuses to grant him the freedom and happiness he observes in others. Despite how much he tries and how much he has succeeded thus far, he feels literally imprisoned by life. The tension between observing others’ liberation and experiencing his own confinement drives both his mental preoccupation with death and the extreme gambles he takes with his life.

Next, I want to focus on Nihility: From his earliest interactions with Acheron, Aventurine positions himself in relation to Nihility, the Path that promises nothingness, release, and an end to suffering. And his fixation on death doesn’t just appear in the moments where he courts it directly. It seeps into nearly everything he does. His mind circles the idea constantly. Death is not just an outcome to him, but a concept he keeps testing and rehearsing in his thoughts until it bleeds into his actions.

The duel with Acheron is where this becomes impossible to ignore. She embodies the Path of Nihility, and Aventurine all but begs her to erase him. He frames it as an experiment— a “strategic” move to test whether death exists in Penacony— but the truth is plainer: Aventurine wants to see if she can finally give him the release he has been circling for so long. Even his role as “Aventurine of Stratagems” folds into this; the great gambler of the IPC, master of survival, deliberately engineers a scenario where survival is almost impossible.

Speaking of Acheron, let's look at their convo in Nihility for a second:

First, as they discuss, she mentions even if Aventurine wishes to be rid of life, she can't promise one way or another, since now he's clearly in limbo. But, before she leaves, Aventurine asks the question he's been dwelling on this entire time:

There's his obsession again with the meaning of life / inherently cruel justice that's out of his control. This further underscores his fixation on death and his ambivalence toward survival. When he tells Acheron that he sometimes wonders if it would be better to simply disappear, it echoes the very structure of suicidal ideation— not always a decisive desire for death, but a weariness, a constant consideration of whether continued existence is worth the effort. His hesitation in the Nihility shows that his obsession with death is not theoretical or symbolic alone, but deeply personal, a depressive calculus he rehearses privately long before he ever steps onto the stage to test it with Acheron’s blade.

And, of course, I have to mention Doctor's Advice, because I'm an aventio truther who needs to push their agenda:

Before he reads Ratio’s note, Aventurine has nothing anchoring him in the Nihility except the bleakness of his own thoughts. His dialogue circles the same depressive contradictions that mark suicidal ideation: an exhaustion with life’s endless repetition, a longing for release, and the haunting uncertainty of what lies beyond. In fact, the conversation with Acheron crystallizes his ambivalence— he cannot say for sure that he wants to die, but he also cannot say with conviction that he wants to live.

I can't find the screenshot rn, but when Aventurine says, “Every night is practice for the end. … And ‘Death’ … will surface in our dreams,” he reveals how he conceptualizes life itself as a rehearsal for dying. To him, sleep is not rest or renewal, but a nightly simulation of annihilation. This perspective is the purest articulation of his suicidal ideation: he is so accustomed to longing for oblivion that he reinterprets the most universal human experience of rest as practice for disappearing. His entire worldview is structured around waiting for Death to finally arrive, and every gamble with his life becomes another spin of the wheel to see if this time his luck has run out.

Ratio’s note interrupts that logic with a radically different framing. In it, Ratio writes that sleep isn’t a rehearsal for death, but a chance to keep living: a pause that allows the body to repair, and the mind to dream. Where Aventurine sees only endings, Ratio insists there are beginnings hidden inside the very same act. The note becomes a reminder that even the smallest continuations, like closing one’s eyes and waking again, matter. This is why the note inspires him to keep living. Aventurine has spent his entire life treating luck as his only anchor, but Ratio gives him something more enduring: a reason to wake, not just a reprieve from dying. (it's one of the many reasons they fit together so well, you've got a guy who has no will to live who cannot see the value in his life, and a guy whose life mission is to value life. i wanna fuckin MUSH THEMMMMM I WANNA PUT THEM IN A BLENDER)

Nods and Bonuses:

If you needed more canon evidence, here's some fun bonus bits to chew on bc i have several english degrees and clearly was the kid in AP english who got too excited to read old dusty poems:

The words that pop up in Aventurine's Penacony maze are not just random words, they are stanzas from T.S Eliot's "The Waste Land." It's a poem which famously depicts a sterile, dying world, haunted by characters who long for an end, whether through death, apocalyptic fire, or drowning. The poem fixates on the idea that modern existence is a kind of half-death, a walking corpse state. Eliot’s poem is deliberately fragmented, chaotic, and bleak—just like Aventurine’s worldview, where life is reduced to random chance and unjust destiny. There's also some achievements in-game that are from this poem as well:

I mean...getting an achievement called "She Replied, I Want to Die" after you defeat Aventurine + right before Acheron slices him is pretttyyy on the nose lol but I'm including it anyway

There's also an achievement during Aventurine and Ratio's side quest called Waiting for Godot—

—named after a very famous play by Samuel Beckett that tells of two characters, Vladimir and Estragon, wait endlessly for a figure named Godot, who never arrives. While waiting, they pass the time with repetitive conversations, absurd actions, and reflections on suffering. Godot, of course, represents salvation, purpose, or death— anything that would “end” their endless uncertainty. The characters talk about hanging themselves to escape their misery, but can’t bring themselves to act. Each day repeats; nothing changes. The suffering continues, and Godot never comes.

This ties in absolutely perfectly into not only the Penacony quest, but Aventurine's character as a whole. Much like Vladimir and Estragon long for release yet remain trapped in absurd repetition, Aventurine waits for death while remaining trapped in a role he cant get out of. He sits in his 'unjust destiny', searching for a release in his gambles and reckless self-endangerment, waiting for a "Godot" who may never come.

In Conclusion:

In the end, Aventurine is not merely a reckless and dramatic man— he is someone whose thoughts, fears, and obsessions with death shape every move he makes. Aventurine has always been suicidal, from the second his character was introduced. From his constant mental rehearsals of mortality to his deliberate gambles in Penacony, his life is a careful negotiation with the inevitable, a test of whether the void will claim him or spare him once again. His ideology is that destiny is inherently unjust, that survival is dictated by chance rather than fairness. He flaunts risk and confidence to hide the truth: that he is a man drowning in envy, sadness, and a deep rooted obsession with ending his own suffering.

Aventurine’s story reminds us that suicidal ideation is not always loud or dramatic (despite his own flashy appearance). It often lives quietly in thoughts, plans, and the relentless weighing of life against the pull of death. To watch him navigate Penacony is to witness the tension between the desire to vanish and the will to persist, and ultimately, to see how even the most self-destructive minds can be pulled back from the edge by understanding, care, and the quiet insistence that life, however unfair, is worth living.

This Suicide Awareness Week, we can take these lessons to heart: noticing the quiet signs of struggle, validating someone’s pain even when it’s not visible, and offering care without judgment can make the difference between isolation and hope. Just as Aventurine needed someone to recognize the depth of his suffering, the people around us can help anchor those silently battling their own darkness.

"Well they're trendy, you know? Everyone likes playing video games." Phainon explains, though Cyrene doesn't think his rambling is making much sense. "Or coins? Do you like collecting coins?"

"What is it Phainon? Just spit it out." Cyrene stops cutting her print outs and interrupts him. She could sense in the light exaggeration in his voice that he was hinting at something else- not video games or coin collecting.

"I was just wondering... maybe you could find some normal hobbies? Not... this- ow!" Phainon softly explains and Cyrene smacks his arm. He winces at his best friend's sudden violence, watching as she huffs then immediately going back to cutting the photos.

"Photography is a hobby, Phainon." Cyrene says sarcastically. Phainon gives a deadpan expression, knowing that that obviously wasn't what he meant. "It keeps people humble. Like you. Now cut those for me."

Phainon was about to argue again, but clicks his tongue. It was almost ironic how Cyrene was right, so he keeps quiet. His photos on the her wall made up quite a big fraction of it- he was her longtime friend after all. To him, his embarrassing pictures weren't too bad. Yeah, some made him look like an unknown entity from Mars, but there was a part of him that found it fun. He enjoyed collecting "memories" with Cyrene. And besides, it's not like he had anyone to impress-

"Who is that...?"

Phainon's soft question tumbles out of his mouth before his brain could take a moment to process it. Cyrene looks up at him, trailing his line of sight to a photo... of you.

"Hm? Oh, that's (Y/n)." Cyrene says, casually taking the picture off and shoving it in his face. What she didn't know was that a close up was making him teeter off having a nosebleed or not.

It was a photo she had taken of you recently. It depicted you clawing mindlessly at your sleeping bag with your eyes barely open- definitely when you just woken up. Your left eye was squinting more than the right, your lips curled in a pouty way that said "I do not get paid enough for this". And to top it off... your glorious bed head. It was a simple one, just as embarrassing as anyone else's photo on her wall. But not to sixteen year old Phainon.

"Is that... your friend?" Phainon asks carefully, and he thinks it's pathetic how he can barely form sentences. Cyrene tilts her head curiously at him.

"We volunteered at a summer camp together a couple months ago. That's what happens when you can't get a bunch of ten year olds to stop talking about brainrot at two in the morning." Cyrene giggles, recalling their shared experience in attempting to wrangle children (and failing). But Phainon was busy daydreaming, because to him, you were a goddess... a bed head goddess.

“Does she go to our school…?”

“No, different one.” Cyrene replies, and Phainon breathes a sigh of relief. He doesn’t know if he could handle knowing there was a pretty girl at his school and not know all this time. Cyrene stops taping as she notices her friend staring off into space. She senses something suspicious, so she asks him, "Why do you want to know?"

"No reason..." Phainon quickly snaps from his daydream. But Cyrene catches it- he's blushing. For god sakes. This makes her instantly launch up and deliver a series of punches to his side.

"Phainon! Are you serious? How could you- you're so gross! Crushing on my friend?!" Cyrene's battle cries barely make sense, but Phainon blushes even more at being caught immediately by her.

"Hey- Ow, ow!!" He hunches over, trying to lessen the impact of her blows.

"Oh my god, I can't believe you fell in love with her photo." Cyrene stops hitting him and topples backwards dramatically.

"N-No I didn't." He tries to deny Cyrene's accusation, but his voice cracks halfway through, betraying him.

"I saw you blushing- actually you’re still blushing." Cyrene points out, not missing a beat. Phainon sports a small pout, still with a pink tint on his cheeks.

"...She's cute." Phainon admits shyly under his breath. "Okay- she's really cute."

"She would cook you alive." Cyrene enunciates as if she was Gordon Ramsay, and he was an irresponsible restaurant owner. Instead, Phainon's eyes widen curiously.

Cyrene's not wrong though. When she met you, she immediately hit it off with you, both laughing and keeping your conversations flowing despite the chaotic children. However, Cyrene learned that you were not one to be played with. It wasn’t just because you had to be commanding at a summer camp, but because of the way you weren’t afraid to say no. Especially to incompetent boys. She remembers how one of another high school volunteer tried “getting closer” to Castorice, and how your stink eye never stopped. He didn’t really do anything, but everyone knew that you thought the vibes were off. (They were)

The pink haired girl suddenly notices Phainon pathetically pouting like she denied him candies or something. Honestly, would (Y/n) fall for this mess?

“Hey, cheer up Phai. (Y/n) may not like idiots, but she never said no to idiots who wear yellow and purple.” Cyrene says jokingly and Phainon scoffs.

The duo goes back into their natural rhythm of bantering and casually talking about whatever. But at the corner of her eye, Cyrene could see Phainon staring hard at the photos- though not really looking at them, more like he was spacing out. His lips were pursed into a tight line, and the young girl wonders if he was actually serious.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 17)

“You know, I think I deserve some compensation for helping you.” Phainon groans, one year later. The white haired boy was starting to grow taller, much to Cyrene’s dismay. What’s not to her dismay is how his voice keeps accidentally cracking as it slowly transforms into a deeper one.

“Oh stop whining. This is for a good cause.” Cyrene counters, waving him off while looking at her printed photos again. This time she was busy curating her board better, organizing them by year as she spreads the cut-outs on the floor like cards.

"You say that like I'm donating to a non-profit." Phainon frowns, reluctantly cutting the papers with scissors. He reaches out to grab another photo sheet- only for his breath to catch in his throat.

Oh no, no no no...

It’s you again.

(Y/n).

On a whole photo sheet, depicted many photos of you with questionable expressions. One with you mid-yawn, another when you seemed to accidentally spit water out from laughing too much, and one where you were wrapped up in a blanket like a cocoon. Cyrene had a new stash already?

Phainon’s breath hitches. He thought he had forgotten about you- key word, thought. He too, sworn this was a silly baby crush that would go away within a week or so. But somehow, seeing your photos a year later, just reignited something within him all over again.

"...Pretty." He blurts out.

"Excuse me?" Cyrene's head snaps up, making the scissors in his hand nearly slip out. He froze- shit. He wasn't supposed to say that out loud.

"I- I said your cuts are pretty even." He stammers.

"You liar," Cyrene immediately calls him out. "Are you still hung up on her?"

“I didn’t know you were still hanging out together…” Phainon says, trying to divert the subject quickly while his palms get sweaty. Translation: I didn’t know Cyrene would pull up with more pictures. Also you’ve gotten prettier.

“We’ve gotten really close. Me, her and Cas. We hung out a few times over the breaks.” She explains. But then she sees Phainon’s hand trembling as he holds the photo sheet and she sighs. “Got a problem?”

“No problems.” Phainon replies curtly. Cyrene purses her lips, pausing for a moment before speaking again.

“No problems, hm?” She repeats. Phainon nods, but not before swallowing hard, and completely loses his credibility when his face flushes pink. God, he was too easy, Cyrene thinks. But she doesn't say anything, feeling as if there was a change in her childhood friend.

Phainon was and always will be: an idiot, in her eyes. She's been friends with him since they started losing teeth, and has witnessed every embarrassing moment, every cringey phase, and every tell of his true emotions. Now in the romance department? Cyrene was a bit clueless, she won't lie. She can't recall if Phainon ever had a crush. They both grew up in the small town of Aedes Elysiae, not really having a lot of kids. At the same time, her and Phainon were likely too busy playing with cards to care.

If she had to put a label on Phainon now, she thinks the hopeless romantic type is likely the category he would fall under if he was seriously in love. However, she can't doesn't really think anything happened in high school either. Maybe a fleeting, "you're attractive, but not my type" kind of deal? But he never showed any signs. Until now.

"She's coming over for a sleepover this weekend~" Cyrene sing-songs out of the blue.

"She- what?" Phainon chokes on his saliva, his heart beating a million miles per minute. He almost curses at her for dumping this information on him so suddenly. You would be here, sleeping over.

"Mhm. We're having a sleepover here, (Y/n) and Cas and I. But it wouldn't hurt for you to drop by and say hi, you know?" Cyrene idly pins up a blurry picture of Castorice mid-sneeze, then looks at Phainon who's going pale.

"I- I have to walk my dog." Phainon says. A poor excuse.

"Walking your dog only takes fifteen minutes." Cyrene points out. She knows he's making stupid excuses, so she doesn't mention his obvious crush and tries framing this as a casual group hangout. "We don't mind, really. You can even invite your new friend. Mydei, right?"

"I don't think Mydei likes face masks." Phainon says. "It's okay, I'll just... stay in all weekend. And lock my doors."

"Pfft- seriously Phai?" Cyrene bursts out laughing, but Phainon scowls (he was dead serious). Here she was giving her best friend an opportunity without any pressure and he was busy complaining about whether Mydei likes doing face masks. "I think you're focusing on the wrong thing."

"It's just- she's still pretty... how is that even possible?" Phainon whispers, unsure whether to blush or crash out. He ends up doing both. Cyrene giggles, her hopeless romantic friend acting lovesick for you.

To tell the truth, he felt helpless. It was pathetic but he knew this wasn't a dumb little crush. He really liked you, and he couldn't do anything about it. He glances at your pictures and can’t help but feel like he couldn’t measure up. Wasn’t Cyrene's photo board supposed to be filled with ugly photos?

"You could talk to her.” Cyrene says as if it was obvious what he should do. Phainon nervously shakes his head and the girl sighs. “Well, if you want to come over, just text me. I promise we'll welcome you with open arms~"

"I'll... think about it." Phainon answers softly.

Cyrene gives a thumbs up, and tries not to look too excited. Did she spontaneously declare that they were having a sleepover this weekend before even asking you guys, just to try and get Phainon to get out and meet you?

Maybe. But clearly he needed an excuse. So as gracious as she is, Cyrene plans the sleepover, and hopes that Phainon doesn't chicken out.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 18)

Phainon did not come over that weekend, nor did he visit any other times Cyrene hung out with you. He really kept to his word, and stayed at home. Cyrene beat him up (in theory), wondering why he was acting so shy all of a sudden.

"-and then, after she told us how she roasted the guy, she stole my fries like it was nothing." Cyrene says in an exasperated tones.

Phainon listens to Cyrene updates about her group hang outs- this one that included you. You've been getting a lot closer to her and Castorice, he thinks. It's good- he likes seeing his friends enjoy themselves and making genuine connections. Now... as she talks, all he could think about was sharing fries with you. Would you steal them from him? Would you let him steal yours? The image was sinking warm and deep in his chest.

"You've been hanging out quite a lot recently. How is (Y/n) doing by the way?" Phainon asks, trying not to tremble as he said your name. Yeah, you still gave him butterflies, but he won't say it. Phainon smiles casually, but it drops once Cyrene rolls her eyes at him.

"You would know, if you came along with us. Phai, you're pathetic, you know that?" She says, not even letting him warm up with a normal conversation. But she thinks it's sweet that he's asking about you.

"Wow, thanks." He says with a fake smile, not even fighting back about being put to work for cutting Cyrene's photos this year. Speaking of, her photo board only got messier, resorting to using pins to hang multiple instead of tape. She’d probably need another board after this.

"I mean it. How many times have I asked you to come over or join us to hang out and you were busy hiding in your house like a hermit?"

"I said I'd think about it first." He sheepishly protests, but that's been his excuse for the past year. Cyrene rolls her eyes at him. Phainon takes a look at his own photos that have accumulated on the cork board and he starts to cringe. "(Y/n)'s not gonna see this right?"

"Phainon, she's been seeing this."

"Oh no." Phainon groans and drags a hand down his face. He does a deep inhale before speaking again, and Cyrene thinks about what a drama king he is. "She's never gonna take me seriously."

"Bold of you to assume she would take you seriously." Cyrene snaps back. Phainon lets out another long groan. “But don't worry, you've got time."

“Are you planning another sleepover soon?” Phainon’s heart still beats just as fast at the thought of meeting you at Cyrene’s house (and then staying home).

“Mm, maybe but not this time. You can’t hide from her forever. She’s going to the same university as us.”

Phainon’s face goes pale, then he suddenly sits up and shakes the pink-haired girl’s shoulders.

“I need that glow-up. Now.”

“Phai, what- are you serious?” Cyrene sputters and wriggles herself out of her dumb friend’s desperate grip. “You don’t need to change anything. You haven't even met her yet!”

But Phainon's expression remains serious. The feeling is a little different, he thinks. For years, he's laughed along with Cyrene at his embarrassing photos that have accumulated on her board. However, after seeing you looking like an angel from heaven, he suddenly feels like he needs to be better. He hasn't met you yet- yes that's true, but that means this photo board was your first impression of him. The tips of Phainon’s ears go pink. That’s almost exactly how he felt- especially knowing that he hasn’t stopped thinking about you ever since Cyrene started inviting you over more. Did you ever think about him? Maybe you did but the only one you could think about was the version of him with a yellow shirt and purple pants.

“Hello? Are you listening to me?” Cyrene exclaims. Phainon seems to come back to Earth, and Cyrene sighs. "Phainon, you don't need a glow up. You're already funny, smart, and stupidly loyal. You're my best friend, and I don't need you changing just because you think (Y/n)'s pretty or whatever. Well- maybe the pants you can change... but everything else!"

"You still referencing my purple pants era? Those were comfy, you know?" Phainon chuckles at the memory, then sighs thinking of Cyrene's heartfelt words. "I know reinventing myself won't make her like me. But every time you give me the chance to meet her I start getting nauseous. It's like doing a test while knowing you didn't study."

Cyrene's eyes widen at Phainon pouring his feelings out on the table, but at this moment she realizes for sure that he's serious. She listens intently.

"I didn't mean glow up as in how I look. I guess I just... I want to feel like I could stand in front of her one day and not feel like a dork." Phainon explains softly. Cyrene nods. She gets it now. He just wanted to believe in himself a little, because right now he felt like a nervous wreck.

"Hey- I understand." The girl says, putting her hand on his arm. "You just want to make a good impression. But I think you're already good the way you are, and I think (Y/n) would think so too. I mean, I did tell her about you on the photo wall."

"Oh god-"

"Shush, you didn't let me finish. She doesn't think you're a dork. Even when I pointed out your dreadful purple pants, she didn't think anything of it. She wants to meet you, Phai." Cyrene encourages, and Phainon's eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

"Fine. I'll just- I still want to lock in a little bit." Phainon says, not even ashamed of the blush creeping on his cheeks. Cyrene giggles, an internal sigh of relief going off as her friend seems to have hope.

"Fine. You'll be the hottest dumbass she's ever seen." Cyrene says jokingly and Phainon rolls his eyes. He straightens up, then grabs his laptop nearby.

"Well- I guess I can take your advice on my clothes at least. I saw an intro to fashion course I could take as an elective." Phainon scrolls along the courses and squints at the course description.

"Phainon. I know I said your purple pants were atrocious but please don't spend hundred of dollars just for someone to tell you to wear jeans. Just let me go shopping with you." Cyrene sighs. He was still a dumbass. Hopefully you liked dumbasses.

"Oh- you're right." Phainon chuckles at himself. He feels more hopeful now, knowing that he's slowly improving himself to having more confidence in himself.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 19, university year 1)

Everyone was starting university now, and Phainon has gotten extremely tall over the year. Yeah, he's been growing but this time it was significant. Cyrene doesn't like this and decided to label him as a beanpole.

It's the middle of the first semester. He did end up going shopping with Cyrene beforehand to look for new clothes. Phainon adjusts the strap of his backpack as he makes the way to the library to join a couple of his friends to go over the reading together. Although, we all know that nobody ever gets work done when you're with your friends.

"Phainon... if you don't mind me asking, how are things with you and (Y/n)?" Castorice's soft voice shyly interrupts the silence, and Phainon almost chokes on nothing. He glances over at Cyrene who's got this guilty oops-I-may-have-accidentally-told-her look, but equally as surprised.

"Ca-Cas! Since when did you start asking spicy questions?" Cyrene sputters, also choking on nothing. It was quite rare to see their usually soft friend ask something so straightforward. Phainon buries his face in his hands, yet Castorice can still see a peek of him smiling, which tells her everything.

"O-Oh, I thought you said that he thought (Y/n) was cool..." Castorice says meekly, wondering if she hit a nerve. The other two almost laugh at how innocent her thought was.

"Yes Cas, he does think (Y/n) is 'cool' but all summer he's been busy texting me excuses."

"I-I'm not making excuses." Phainon protests, still with a faint blush. "I told you, I'll meet her when I meet her... I don't wanna look like a creep."

Castorice looks at Phainon in a kind of solemn yet heartfelt way. After noticing Phainon’s reaction and response, she thinks she understands what he meant.

"I think it's sweet, Phainon." The lavender-haired girl says with a genuine smile. "She's not scary. She's very kind, and easy to talk to."

Phainon's smile gets melty as Castorice tries to give him some encouragement. Castorice was not one to lie about her feelings, so he's glad he has some acknowledgement of his feelings (even if they show minimal effort due to nervousness). He almost starts daydreaming again about the thought of talking to you. But there's still a feeling of insecurity. The summer has passed, you probably have gotten prettier- he's seen it from the photos so he knew it was possible.

"Actually- that reminds me." Cyrene points at Castorice, interrupting Phainon's train of thoughts. "We were planning to go restaurant hopping around campus on Thursdays. It would be fun if you join us?"

"...With (Y/n)?"

"Yes, Phainon. With (Y/n)."

They were trying to include him in another outing. But a part of his brain still hesitates. He doesn't think he knows where to start even with Cyrene and Castorice beside him. What does he even say to you?

"I... I can't." He finally says with a sigh. Cyrene suspects something suspicious again, while Castorice looks at him with a bit of disappointment. He feels the disappointing gazes he gets, but he swallows as he prepares what he's about to say next. "I've been going to the gym with Mydei on Thursdays."

"Ugh, Phaiiii. Are you seriously ditching good food for Mydei?" Cyrene complains, though she doesn't mean to offend Mydei (mostly).

"I tried out for a couple of the school's sports teams the other week... but I felt really out of shape. I hadn't exercised much this summer." Phainon explains. This part was true.

"Well if you ever want to ditch Mydei and his pomegranate protein drinks, just text us, okay?" Cyrene says. Phainon notices the lack of scheming in her expression. It was almost as if there was a bit of desperation in her voice, and he can't help but almost feel pathetic for backing out again.

"Fine... I guess if I can, I'll skip leg day." Phainon says, breathing in. There was a slight lack of promise behind his words. Still, he sits back, wondering what it would've been like- sitting across from you on one of those Thursday nights.

"That's what I like to hear~" Cyrene smiles, giving him a thumbs up, and Castorice nods as well. "Maybe you can invite us to your games."

"That's only if I make it on the team." Phainon's cheeks almost go pink again at the thought of you coming to his games. Cheering for him, smiling at him, wearing his jersey- "I don't think it would be good to meet you guys all sweating and stinking after a game."

"Phai, you always stink." Cyrene says, sneering.

"Wow, thanks." Phainon replies, rolling his eyes. Cyrene laughs, relishing in Phainon's reactions to her jabs. The banter goes on, mostly with Cyrene bullying Phainon. As it starts to die down, Castorice taps Phainon’s hand and gives him another soft smile.

"I know you can do it, Phainon." She says.

A familiar warmth flushes through his body for a second. She was talking about his tryouts... he thinks. But a certain look in her eyes made him feel like she was telling him something else.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 20, university year 2)

By the time second year was in full swing, it was as if Phainon was fully transformed into a different being. His outfits no longer contained his purple pants, and continued listening to Cyrene's advice of keeping his style simple yet boyish. He did end up making the team by the way, and with his weekly gym session with Mydei, his figure has significantly gotten more athletic. He's taller, more confident, but in a way that was playful and warm- not cocky.

Of course, this confidence came with its own results- people naturally started gravitating towards him. Somewhere in the middle of the semester, he received his first love letter, which then turned into much more. People started lingering after class, hoping to say hi and get his number. Anyone who was in his group for a project was deemed incredibly lucky, as they already had an excuse to talk to him. At first, he didn't know how to handle this. He's never been approached like this before.

Whether it was out of nervousness or the sudden feeling of being wanted, he said yes.

He went on a few dates, smiling and laughing along politely with a person across from him. Someone cute, bubbly, clearly interested- and yet it always ended up making him hollow. He thought he was enjoying it, since smiling came easy for him, but it felt empty, like something was missing.

These dates usually didn't get him very far. Sometimes, it was the other person who would say something like, "You're nice Phainon, but I don't think we work." Other times, it was him who eventually got the courage to shamefully break it to them that he wasn't feeling it. Eventually, he realized halfway through that he was forcing it, like he was waiting for a spark that will never come.

He didn't feel too bitter, because he knew there was no point in continuing a relationship that didn't have both parties invested. Eventually these cycles accumulated to creating a restless ache in his chest that he didn't even notice.

During that year, he'd text Cyrene, and sometimes Mydei and Castorice, but everyone was also starting to get busy. With school work, practising with his sports team, and those dates, he felt a sense of dread- that he was drifting away from his loved ones. Even with Mydei who he used to see often, he can't remember the last time he talked to him. When was the last time he saw any of them? He's starting to be unable to recall.

One day, he collapses backwards on his bed, his hands covering his face. He still smelled of cologne from an earlier date that resulted with him nervously ending it. He felt something uncomfortable stir inside him, and decided he couldn't continue like this.

I think I need a break, he says to himself in his head.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 21, university year 3, mid-1st semester...)

"Hey."

On a rainy day, a voice suddenly calls out to Cyrene. Her shorter stature made it seem like her umbrella was covering her entirely, but Phainon could still recognize her.

"Phainon..." There's a bit of a startled shake in her tone as she raises her umbrella to finally see the familiar face she matched to the voice. He's taller, she notices, and he's bulked up. He looks at her with the same smile she's always known. However, there was something else- something sad beneath this mask he was putting on. As his best friend, she always knew when he was faking something. His smile was sheepish, barely holding on and seemed exhausted. "Do you... wanna come over?"

Phainon gives a silent nod, which almost makes her break down. They quickly turn and head on route to a path they knew best. Phainon walks into Cyrene's room, and for once he wishes he was there cutting away at her photo sheet. He also subtly notices that the board hasn't been updated since the end of high school. For the next few hours, they spend it updating each other on things that have happened in the past year and a bit. A few tears were even shed.

"...are we not gonna address the obvious?" Cyrene asks as she mindlessly stares into space while sitting and leaning on her bedside. She sniffles, having just ranted with Phainon of things that happened in the semester and upset her. Phainon lies on her floor looking up at the ceiling, in a similar condition, sniffling.

"What...?"

"Your boobs."

"My boobs?"

"Yes your boobs. They've gotten bigger. Like Mydei's." Cyrene says in a monotone way, but it makes Phainon chuckle with snot still in his nose. He misses this a lot, he thinks. The dull ache in his chest from his failed dates, the missed hangouts, and lonely walks back from practice were slowly starting to fade. Of course it would take time.

"I've been following his workout regimen, so I guess that explains that." Phainon says, enjoying Cyrene's teasing.

A pause. Cyrene glances down at her friend for a brief moment. She was partially making a joke to lighten the mood from their crying session, but she did think that. He does look different, but he's still the same Phainon who's been her friend since they were kids. He's gained a lot of muscle, his baby fat pretty much completely lost. His features were a lot sharper and defined. His smile was the same, which was good, she thinks, although seeming a bit tired.

"Anyway- I'm not done talking about that girl who dated you for 'aesthetics'." Cyrene pops back into their previous conversation. Phainon groans, but he feels he can laugh at it now. The more he talks with Cyrene about his past year, the more he wishes he could go back and at least find some time to talk to her. "Phai, you don't need to say yes to every person who asks you, you know? Especially not to some NPC who thinks she's the main character."

"Yeah, I know... I wish I could've caught on earlier on how performative she was." Phainon sighs as he remembers his list of failed dates. This performative influencer girl was one of them. He's surprised he still remembers what happened, but they all likely affected him a little deeper than he thought, he concludes. "I just- I thought that if I said kept saying yes, I'd feel like- I don't know... like I'd matter more. But nothing ever stuck, so I just waited for the next chance. …I'm sorry I didn't tell you.”

"Don't apologize. I'm your friend Phai." Cyrene says, looking down at him. He angles his head so that he can see her. The pink-haired girl sees his watery eyes, making her almost want to cry again.

"Anyway-" Phainon quickly rubs his eyes, removing any traces of his tears. "It's okay. Like I said, I stopped saying going on these useless dates for months now. Can we take a break from talking about my stupid relationship decisions? Tell me more of what you've been up to."

Cyrene smiles. Knowing her, she definitely wants to revisit this topic to complain with him. For now, she agrees that he could use a break.

"Nothing much... mostly stress from classes. A lot of group work disasters." Cyrene says mindlessly. To be honest, she's still thinking of how stressed he must have been, and by himself.

"Mm? What else? How are the girls?" He asks.

"Mm, well I still text Cas, but I feel like she's getting awfully busy. We talk but I haven't hung out with her in a while." Cyrene recounts a little sadly. "Then there's Hyacine- remember her? She's so sweet but sometimes she's too sweet. I heard she was helping other students struggling in Professor Anaxa's class."

"I heard about that." Phainon interjects briefly.

"Mhm, and then there's Cerydra whom I met last semester- but everyone knows she's got a temper of her own." Cyrene inhales, then faintly smiles before saying the next thing. "And then... there's (Y/n)."

Cyrene watches as Phainon's form on the ground stiffens. There's a moment of silence before they both burst out laughing.

"Don't start." Phainon says, covering his face in embarrassment. As their laughter dies down, he turns his head the other way, looking at Cyrene's board of ugly photos. He still remembers you- how you made him feel since he was sixteen. He looks at your photos, smiling without shame as he revels in the nostalgia. You've probably gotten even more beautiful by now.

"Mm, wasn't going to." Cyrene claims, though Phainon rolls his eyes, knowing his best friend too well. "We still talk, but mostly because we luckily have classes together. We've been stressing about our work together, and she's been sitting through my 3am rants about my dumb professors. I feel kinda bad at times for rambling, but she tells me she wants to hear it so she can complain with me."

"I'm glad you have her." Phainon says, with a sigh and closing his eyes. At least some people were finding silver linings. "She's probably dating someone now, isn't she?"

"Um, no actually." Cyrene corrects. Phainon's eyes open, looking at Cyrene's calculating yet concerned expression. His heart starts beating a little faster at the thought of you surprisingly being single. But he decides not to act on it from how depressed he currently was. "(Y/n)- she's so smart at avoiding problematic people, but it sure makes her life boring as hell."

"Doesn't sound boring..." Phainon grumbles, more about how he definitely preferred boring over heartbreak.

"Of course you'd say that."

"What."

"Kidding! I'm kidding. But seriously- she's way too strategic. No spontaneity, no whimsy. Maybe you should take a page out of her book, learn how to say no." Cyrene remarks, and Phainon deadpanned. She was right to some degree, though.

"I can't argue with you. I'm glad you have someone like her though." Phainon says with a genuine smile. Cyrene looks at him curiously, blinking at his sudden sincerity, and having a series of thoughts in her head.

"You have people too. You have me, Mydei, Castorice... You don't need to prove anything. We're all here for you, you know? We always have been."

"Right, thank you." Phainon blinks away the tears and feels a big weight lifted off his chest as he finally reconnects with his friend.

"And Phai?"

"Yes?"

"I don't care how many stupid decisions you make. Don't ever go that long without talking to me, or anyone else. Got it?" Cyrene points her finger at him, and Phainon's eyes widen, feeling scolded.

"Right- sorry, I mean- thanks, Cyrene." He stammers.

"Don't thank me, just remember."

Cyrene's looks at Phainon, thinking back and taking in his responses in relation to you. There's a thought that occurs in her head for a second. However, seeing the state she and him were in, she decides it's not the right moment to bring it up. She feels that they still have a lot to catch up on, a lot of memories they missed out on.

But she doesn't ignore the gears that start turning in her head. She just simply... holds them off for a better day.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 21, university year 3, three months later...)

"Ugh, Cyreneee..." Phainon whines, his large and lanky form draping over the restaurant table. Cyrene gives him an impassive stare, while Hyacine gasps, looking between her and this... soggy puppy.

"Is he usually like this...?" Hyacine asks, genuinely concerned.

Right now, Cyrene has taken Phainon, Mydei and Hyacine to a restaurant together to catch up. They were at a noodle place, one that she visited with you and Castorice early in first year when you guys went restaurant hopping. Mydei took responsibility for grabbing the orders once they were called. But nobody cares about the noodles anymore, especially not with somebody brooding like a drama king.

"I- yes." Cyrene almost rants, but stops herself and gives Hyacine the short answer.

"Hyacine-“ Phainon groans turning to the other girl, his bottom lip jutting out, smushed on his arm as he rests his head on it. “I'm so, so so lonely..."

For the past three months, Cyrene has been connecting back with Phainon like old times. They talked constantly, catching up and doing a little healing therapy by venting and hanging out more. Sounds good right? Wrong. Phainon felt much better since he's bottled up his feelings for the past year. But the dull ache in his chest was still there, because healing takes time, and now they were all coming out in the form of him complaining.

"Lonely? But Phainon- you have all of us here." Hyacine innocently remarks. "Me, Cyrene, and even Mydei!"

"What." Mydei blurts out gracefully as he walks back at the perfect time, bringing back two trays of noodles, then going back for the other two.

"Hyacine, it's not that type of lonely. It's the other type of lonely." Cyrene explains.

"Oh..."

"I know I've been taking a break, but guys- I think even Mydei is more likely to find love instead of me." Phainon comically whispers the last part and the girls blink at him.

"Woah- let's not get too crazy here." Cyrene says with her arms up defensively. Mydei comes back again and he quirks an eyebrow, making Cyrene suspiciously pretend like she didn't just throw shade at him. But he doesn't question anything. "Ahem- anyway... ignore him. He's been annoying, doing nothing but moping all day long."

"Are you really okay, Phainon?" Hyacine asks, still concerned even after Cyrene insults him. Phainon gives a soft chuckle, waving his hand as if telling her it's okay.

"I'm okay Hyacine. I was joking… kind of. I’m just... recalibrating. Last year I tried going on dates, but took it too fast. Nothing worked. So now-" Phainon stops for a moment, taking a bite of his noodles since he was quite hungry. "-now I'm taking a break. Figured I should learn to stop forcing myself just for a bit of affection that won't get reciprocated."

"Aw, well I'm happy for you, Phainon." Hyacine gleams cheerfully, glad that her friend was improving. The group all start on their meals, while catching up on life.

"Enough complaining Phai- you've been annoying me for weeks. What do you guys think of the noodles so far?" Cyrene asks, midway through finishing their food.

"It's really good! I've never been to a noodle place where you could choose your own toppings." Hyacine chimes in, while the boys nod along, agreeing with her. Her bowl was topped full of veggies, eating super healthy. Mydei on the other hand- also a health-nut though his was filled mostly with different meats.

"Well, this is the last restaurant recommendation." Cyrene declares, as a happy ending to their restaurant hopping journey. She's happy. Both because she's bringing her friends together again, and enjoying good food.

"I'm gonna miss going to these new restaurants with you guys." Phainon says, sighing. "I think this place makes my top three along with that diner ten minutes away. Oh- and that brunch cafe too."

"We can always go back to any of these places. Those were our favorites too." Cyrene points out.

Several minutes pass as the group continues finishing their noodles. Mydei wipes his mouth then suddenly turns to Phainon.

"Did you tell them about the fundraiser?" Mydei asks Phainon. It was soft almost like a secretive whisper that makes the girls tilt their head in confusion. Phainon almost spits out his noodles at his reminder of the fundraiser.

"Uh, no." Phainon swallows, then lowly whispers back. Both the boys are starting to blush in embarrassment, which blows their chance of hiding what was really happening. Mydei breathes in steadily, then nods to him, a signal to tell the girls. Phainon grimaces, then slowly pulls out his phone. He taps the screen a few times then cringes as he reluctantly pushes his device towards Cyrene and Hyacine.

The girls quickly skim over the post on the screen. Cyrene gasps with her mouth wide open, while Hyacine's eyes go wide.

"You're- You're doing a shirtless carwash?! Oh my god-" Cyrene dramatically leans back onto her chair and starts laughing. The boys grumble, but Phainon gets defensive to try and save face.

"Y-Yeah? What about it?" Phainon sputters. Then he realizes he's beyond saving and turns to attempt to blame Mydei. "Mydei- why did you make me tell them?"

"We need more funds." He says bluntly. But it was true. For a fundraiser, they needed more people to come for their services. And how else would they be able to make people come without spreading the word?

"I think you two will look great!" Hyacine says cheerfully. Phainon groans, too defeated to even protest.

"When is it? Wait..." Cyrene looks closer at the bottom of the post and realizes something else. "This was posted two weeks ago?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"For obvious reasons!" Phainon almost yells. Cyrene and Phainon almost start beefing in the middle of the restaurant until Mydei cuts in.

"It's in a month." Mydei says, giving the only normal reply.

"One month? Oh Hyacine- this is gonna be so good! We should totally go! Oh, I can revive my photo board. Staring with you!~" Cyrene exclaims, grabbing the girl's hands in her own. Hyacine blushes, unsure of how she feels seeing shirtless boys, but somewhat understands the hype.

"Do what you want. You're already enjoying making me suffer." Phainon says with his face in his hands. There's a familiar feeling that rises when Cyrene mentions her photo board. He was about to be the magnum opus again, but it brings a fond memory for him, so he decides not to argue too much. He then looks at Mydei with a sigh, a silent way to scold him for the two girls howling across from them.

"You'll thank me later." Mydei says leaning back, (and as usual making no effort in comforting Phainon).

"For what? More humiliation?" Phainon snaps back.

"For pushing you into things you can't run away from. Sometimes they end up better than you think." Mydei grins, and Phainon rolls his eyes.

He misses the weight of Mydei’s words, but Cyrene doesn't. A thought lingers for the next month.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆

Phainon (Age: 21, university year 3, one month later...)

Today, Phainon feels like the gods were testing him. For weeks after the sports teams got together to organize this shirtless carwash, he didn't think it was a big deal. For some reason, now that the day is finally here, he finds himself feeling more of the embarrassment. This is what happens when you suppress your feelings.

Chat between Phainon and Cyrene, yesterday:

Phainon: Heyyy, are you gonna come to pick me up after the shirtless carwash tomorrow? I need moral support! Cyrene: I can’t, I’m sorry Phai. I’m will be going home early to prep for the girls to come over. Phainon: Hey, don't sweat it Phainon: I guess I'll just suffer 🥲 Cyrene: Believe me, I wish I could be there recording your dumbass 😔 Phainon: Rude Cyrene: You'll be fine you dork🙄 Cyrene: Remember to put on sunscreen!

He wasn't able to convince any of his friends to come save him, which internally scarred him. The girls were either gonna be out or stuck in class, as informed by his best friend. On top of all this, Cyrene asked to borrow his car for today- probably to carpool and pick up the girls, he thinks. He's not mad, but it means he likely has to ask someone else to drive him back.

Cyrene: You can come over afterwards? Phainon: Sorry I think I'll be too tired afterwards. You ladies have fun Cyrene: Don't worry about it! Rest! Cyrene: Just know I'll be supporting you from afar

Indeed, he could come over to Cyrene's afterwards. From the way she talked to it briefly to him, it seemed like she was getting the whole group together. He sighs, wishing he could. But at that point, he might as well go home. His captain was particularly strict with this fundraiser going well, and would likely stay washing cars until dinner time. Phainon can't forget the cringey words coming from his captain wanting to draw in customers with fan-service.

"Remember, this isn't about soap and water. It's about the team." "Put your back into it- sell it like you're a model!" "Smile, boys!" "Remember to flex when you scrub the hood, Phainon!"

Who thought this was a good idea? Why couldn't they just do a bake sale instead?

Phainon sighs, thinking beggars can't be choosers. Also, speaking of team captain: Mydei recently became the captain for his own team. He was with him at the carwash, but because of his new leader status, he was abusing it and being super lazy. For majority of the day, Mydei wasn't washing cars, but instead sitting on his ass on a nearby lawn chair like your uncle at a barbecue. Phainon was jealous that he could get away with it, and he won't even hide it.

The white haired male currently stands in disbelief, towelling his wet torso. Just mere moments ago, Mydei's customer who happened to be a girl in his class that he was eyeing, came over. He suspects he might've been too mouthy when trying to drive up sales, thus leading Mydei to let her spray him with the hose. Well, at least he got to tease his usually broody friend for getting so blushy.

The things Mydei does for a girl, Phainon thinks to himself while discarding the towel and putting his shirt back on.

"Hey Phainon, someone's asking for you." A volunteer suddenly comes up to him as he sends his previous patron off with a clean car. Phainon turns around, blinking curiously at the volunteer.

He sighs, internally groaning at the thought of another one. Another one of the handful of people who would come to get the service from him, and linger longer than necessary. Their intentions were obvious from the compliments, giggles, and asking for his number. Yeah, he was still getting approached, but he's grown used to politely saying no. It was a bit exhausting and uncomfortable, but it was better than getting your heartbroken. He's learned his lesson that it wasn't the right way to approach a relationship.

He nodded to the volunteer, who quickly scurried away to let the next car into his lot. Just smile, clean their car, flex a little, then if they ask for my number just politely decline.

Phainon rolls his shoulders to stretch and get ready, but suddenly freezes- shoulders half-raised as he hears the very familiar rumble of a car.

His car.

His car was pulling into his own lot, smooth and careful like the driver actually respected it. For a split second he chuckles, thinking it must be Cyrene who decided to surprised him and poke fun at him after all. When the car parks in and he finally sees who’s inside, he abruptly stops as he realizes he was only partially right.

His chest starts tightening, his palms sweating, and his throat started getting dry- in the exact same way when he was sixteen.

It was you.

(Y/n).

He knew it was you, even through the tinted glass of his windows. At that point he realizes how your face somehow followed through in his memories- every awkward date, every half-hearted crush, every half-baked relationship. It was you.

And now you were pulling into his lot, in his car.

His heart was hammering in his chest, but this time he didn't run.

How many times has he made excuses again? "I said I'd think about it first." "I'll meet her... eventually." "I'll see her when I see her." Years of brushing off Cyrene's invites, telling her of a next time that never happened. Years of dodging, and months of saying yes to the wrong people, only to watch that spark fizzle out quickly.

"Phai, you don't have to say yes to everyone, you know? It's okay to wait. It's okay to say no."

That's what Phainon remembers Cyrene saying to him that day. And she's right. He should have said no earlier to things that weren't going to be genuine. But what happens when he's given this opportunity? Does he say no?

"I know you can do it, Phainon."

"-For pushing you into things you can't run away from. Sometimes they end up better than you think."

Perhaps the only thing he should have said no to what the insecure version of himself that wanted to hide. Did he feel like running right now? Yes. Did he feel like he was gonna throw up out of nervousness? Yes, but hopefully not.

Still, despite the sheer amount of sweat, awkwardness, and completely inevitable feeling of being unprepared- he was here, smiling. Smiling as you rolled down your windows, looking equally as awkward, but still had the same fierceness- the “I don’t get paid enough to do this” expression that told him Cyrene likely put her to this. But you were still you, the same you that he memorized from Cyrene's photo wall from years ago. You were brighter, sharper... real. Not to mention a hundred times more gorgeous- which of course did wonders for his heart. You were looking for him. And he was an idiot who let himself lose sight of what was a chance for him all this time.

"Hey, were you looking for me?" He says, with full confidence.

And for the first time, Phainon didn't feel like running. He grinned- wide, easy, and genuine as he perched himself on the edge of your his open window. His heart was pounding, but it was steady now.

He's missed out on a lot- so why shouldn't he give you the full show?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N: Hi Phainon nation, once again thank you for your support (if you read the previous parts, I love you)!

To paraphrase my reply to a fellow commenter, POIDH was supposed to be written as a series (which is why The Waiting Game feels like it ends on a cliffhanger). However, I did not feel like I had strong enough ideas. Therefore, the options are:

Waiting until I do have ideas

Opening requests? Like if you want to see a small drabble written on something you wanna see in relation to this series

Leaving it at this

Idk!!! Either way, tell me your thoughts (or scream with me about Phainon and Mydei's soapy boobs) because I love all your comments ❤️

I may or may not have one last idea(?), so if I decide to continue this, uhhhhh I guess you'll see it in the tags :)