Chapter 1. The Christmas Detour
The suitcase sat by the door like an accusation. Outside, the December air was a biting chill, but inside, all I wanted was to bury myself under a weighted blanket, a mug of cocoa in hand, and let the world go quiet.
“Jayita’s house tomorrow,” I muttered, leaning my forehead against the cool glass of the window. “Oh God, I just want to be home.”
The social battery was at zero percent, and the thought of navigating holiday small talk felt like running a marathon in sand. To numb the dread, I retreated to my sanctuary: the glowing screen of my phone.
I scrolled aimlessly until a video stopped my thumb. It was a clip from the MAT fan meeting.
There you were. Est.
The lighting was bright, the crowd a sea of cheering silhouettes, but the camera was tight on you. Pond and Phuwin were on either side, their mischievous energy radiating through the pixels. They were teasing you—something about a missed cue or a funny habit—and they were relentless.
I watched, holding my breath, as you tried to maintain a “cool” exterior. But then, Pond nudged your shoulder, and the facade crumbled. You broke into a wide, helpless grin.
It wasn’t just a smile; it was a revelation. It reached your eyes, crinkling the corners, and there it was—that mole on your upper lip. It felt like a tiny, perfect punctuation mark on a beautiful sentence.
“Cute,” I whispered to the empty room. “Actually, dangerously cute.”
As the video looped, my mind drifted back to years ago. I remembered the headlines about Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra. At the time, I’d read the articles with a detached sort of amusement. In my wildest dreams, I never thought I’d be the one falling for a guy twelve years younger than me.
I’d always figured my “type” was someone settled, perhaps a bit cynical, someone who had seen as much of the world as I had. But life has a funny way of ignoring your blueprints.
Looking at you, the age gap didn’t feel like a barrier; it felt like a bridge to a different kind of energy. You had this vibrance that didn’t care about “shoulds” or “musts.” You were just... there. Radiant, kind, and possessed of a smile that made a stressful trip to Jayita’s house feel like a minor inconvenience rather than a catastrophe.
I closed the app, but the image of that smile stayed behind my eyelids. The suitcase didn’t look quite so heavy anymore.
“Stay healthy, Est,” I said, a silent Christmas wish sent into the digital ether. “Keep smiling. Some of us need it more than you know.”
I turned off the light, finally ready to face tomorrow, carrying that little bit of borrowed warmth with me.
