Chapter 1 — “Morning Light, Shifting Shadows”
The first rays of sunlight spilled through the half-open blinds, casting streaks of gold across the living room. Angel leaned against the counter, coffee cup in hand, watching Money animate the space with her usual morning energy.
“You’re up early,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Or is that your second cup already?”
“First,” Angel replied, voice steady, but his gaze lingered a moment too long on her smile. “Though it might as well be the second, seeing you like this.”
Money laughed, shaking her head. “You say the strangest things sometimes, Angel. You mean that?”
“I always mean it,” he said softly, letting the words hang in the air.
She turned to pour herself some orange juice, oblivious to the pulse of longing behind his calm demeanor. “You’re ridiculous. But I guess that’s why I keep you around.”
Just then, Tina burst through the door, her sneakers squeaking against the hardwood. “Morning, losers! Don’t tell me you’re already talking about feelings before breakfast.”
Angel gave her a wry smile, taking a sip of coffee. “You’re too early for this kind of truth, Tina.”
Tina plopped down on the sofa. “Too early? There’s never a wrong time for truth when it’s this juicy.” She glanced at Money. “So… tell me you’re not dating Marcus again.”
Money rolled her eyes, a playful defensiveness in her tone. “I don’t know why you think I make bad choices.”
Angel’s chest tightened subtly. Marcus — charming, unreliable, and entirely wrong for her. Yet every time Money fell for him, she didn’t see the danger lurking beneath the sparkle. He said nothing, swallowing the pang of jealousy.
The morning passed in laughter and small chaos, but as the clock ticked toward noon, a familiar heaviness washed over Angel. His vision blurred. The edges of the room softened, the light dimmed, and his body sagged against the counter.
“Angel?” Money’s voice called through the haze, but it was distant, echoing as though underwater.
And then, he was somewhere else.
The air smelled of jasmine and warm earth. Sunlight bathed a sprawling meadow where Angel and Money stood hand in hand, not as best friends, but as lovers. Her eyes held his heart in a way the waking world never had. He could feel her pulse against his own, the rhythm of two souls perfectly synchronized.
“Angel,” she whispered, the voice a tender caress. “I’ve been waiting for you here.”
He wanted to tell her that he had been waiting too, every day of his life, in the waking world where she could never see him that way. But the words weren’t needed. Here, they existed fully, seamlessly, and without fear.
Hours—or maybe minutes—passed in blissful silence, shared glances, soft laughter, and lingering touches. The meadow seemed eternal, the bond undeniable.
Then, as abruptly as it began, the edges of the world sharpened, and Angel’s eyes snapped open to the sunlight of his living room. Money was there, in her usual spot, sipping orange juice with Tina still teasing her, completely unaware of the world he had just left behind.
Heart pounding, Angel blinked rapidly, unsure of where dream ended and reality began. His hands shook slightly, and for the first time, he allowed himself a quiet thought: one day, she has to see me like this.
But for now, all he could do was smile, lift his coffee cup, and play the part of the best friend — silently carrying the love that no one in the waking world could yet witness.
