Sunnyside Down ☀️

Chapter 1: CampFire

The five of us were, in every sense of the word, unstoppable.

Ajax, Elijah, Noah, Kian, and me—Asher. We were an unlikely combination, held together by years of friendship, shared chaos, and the kind of loyalty that survived even our worst arguments.

We all dated each other at one point.

We are all seventeen except Ajax, who's nineteen but still in highschool for failing,

Ajax was the eldest, though you’d never know it by the way he acted. Immature, reckless, and effortlessly funny, he had a talent for turning even the most ordinary moment into a disaster. Somehow, he was also the glue that kept us laughing when everything else fell apart.

Then there was Noah.

Noah was a bitch. There was no kinder way to put it.

He and I were constantly at each other’s throats, locked in a rivalry neither of us seemed willing to surrender. Every conversation became a competition, every glance a challenge. (What Asher didn’t know—and what Noah would rather die than admit—was that beneath all the irritation was something far more embarrassing: a massive crush Noah had no idea how to deal with.)

Kian, who everyone called Kai, was the mom of the group. Sweet, thoughtful, and perpetually prepared, he was the one carrying everything we might possibly need while the rest of us stumbled through life with absolutely no plan. If we were ever going to survive ourselves, Kai was the reason.

And then there was me.

I was the youngest, but probably the calmest of all of us, aside from Kai. I liked keeping my head clear, staying collected, and avoiding unnecessary drama.

Unfortunately, Noah made that nearly impossible.

Then, there was Elijah.

Elijah was my boyfriend. Then we broke up and somehow managed to become friends. At least, that was what we told everyone.

The truth was considerably messier.

We were stuck somewhere between friendship and something neither of us wanted to name. A situationship, if you wanted to call it that.

A toxic one.

We kissed. We made out. We argued. Sometimes, we hit each other. Then, somehow, we always ended up back in the same place, acting like nothing had happened.

We didn't call it dating.

We didn't call it friendship.

We didn't put a label on it at all.

Maybe because once we gave it a name, we'd have to admit what we were actually doing to each other.

I lived with mild depression and a crippling fear of heights. AKA acrophobia. Elijah had mild OCD.

Noah was different—his BPD was severe, and he was bipolar.

There were times when his instability turned dangerous, times when he nearly tried to kill not just himself, but me. More than once.

We were troublesome, reckless, and, at times, downright dangerous. Toxic. Messed up. Dysfunctional as hell.

And yet, somehow, we were a family.

Not a healthy one. Not a normal one. But ours.

For twelve years, it was ours.

One night, we were all crammed into Elijah’s basement, doing what we always did on the weekends—eating, drinking, arguing, and generally making a mess of the place.

Eventually, the conversation turned to what we should do next weekend.

“We should go to the city,” Noah suggested.

“Nah, let’s go to the beach house!” Elijah cut in.

“We should do that next week,” Kian said, raising his voice over everyone else. “This week, let’s go camping.”

“Yeah! Camping in the forest!” Ajax shouted, already sounding way too excited about the idea.

Everyone looked around at one another, and somehow, without much discussion, the plan was decided.

Elijah turned toward me. “You okay with that?”

“Sure,” I replied.

And just like that, a few careless words spoken in a basement became the reason I ended up here in the woods with these four idiots.

That night, we were all sitting on a bench and wanted to make a bonfire, so Elijah asked Noah and I to go get wood*

"I would prefer to jump into the ice water, thank you," Noah replied sarcastic, lying on the sand with a cigarette between his fingers

"Come on, it's just going to get wood" Kian replied.

"I'll just get it myself." I sigh dramatically, putting my phone down before getting up to leave.

"Yo, are you sure you want to go alone it's getting dark?" Ajax reminded me.

"Yeah I will I'm fine with it since this stupid retard can't do shit." I cough, directing it to Noah.

Noah flipped me off.

"Noah, can you please just go with him?"

Kian asked.

"Fucking hell, fine. I'll go with him but I can't promise we'll return with wood." Noah groaned. His voice had a frustrated tone to it.

Noah got up. What I didn't know is he had a blade in his right pocket which he'd later try to attack me with.

"Just go." Kian said.

As Noah and I made your way into the forest only Noah knew only one of you would come out alive.

*The forest was dense and quiet—only the crunch of leaves under your shoes broke the silence. Moonlight barely pierced through the thick trees, casting long shadows that twisted like grasping fingers.*

Noah walked slightly behind you, hands shoved deep in his hoodie pockets. The knife pressed against his thigh with every step.

I didn’t notice how slow he’d gone—or how far he let me get ahead.

A cold breeze rustled the branches above. Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried out.

Then—without warning—Noah suddenly sped up.

"Pfft. Is someone scared?"

I asked mockingly.

I smirked over my shoulder, glancing back at Noah. The moonlight caught the sharp edge of his jaw—tense, clenched.

Noah didn’t answer.

Instead, he kicked a rock hard—it clattered into the dark bushes and startled something. A squirrel? A rabbit?

But it wasn't that noise that made your skin prickle.

It was how *still* Noah went right after.

His breathing had changed. Faster now. Uncontrolled.

And then—he took one long stride forward… closing the gap between you two like a predator cutting distance to prey.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

I ask carefully. My voice dripping with confusion and concern.

Noah stopped just a foot behind me—close enough that his shadow swallowed yours in the pale moonlight.

He didn’t speak.

His eyes, dark and unreadable, flicked down to my back. Then up again. Like he was measuring something.

The forest had gone dead silent. No crickets. No wind.

Just the two of us—and whatever was about to happen next.

Then… slowly… Noah reached into his right pocket.

His fingers curled around cold metal.

Worry settles in my chest. I reach up and gently cup his cheek, my palm warm against his skin.

“What’s wrong, Noah?” I ask softly. “Do you want to turn back?”

The second my warm hand touched his cold cheek, Noah froze.

His breath hitched—just slightly.

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes. Confusion? Hesitation? Regret?

That knife—still gripped tightly in his pocket—felt suddenly heavier.

My touch was soft. Familiar. The kind of warmth he hadn’t felt from me in *years*. Not since before the rivalry, before the insults and glares and hatred built between us two like a wall.

He didn’t pull away.

But he didn’t lean into it either.

Just stood there… frozen… with murder on one side of him—and me, gentle as ever, on the other.

“You all right?” I asked, my voice soft with concern.

Noah’s throat moved as he swallowed hard—like my question weighed more than the knife in his pocket.

His eyes, still locked on mine, wavered.

For a heartbeat… two…

Then he blinked.

And for the first time that night—maybe even...ever—his expression cracked. Just a little. A flicker of something raw beneath all that anger and ice.

He didn’t answer with words.

Instead, his free hand twitched at his side—almost like it wanted to reach up and grab yours… but stopped itself before it could betray him completely.

The forest stayed silent. Watching.

The air between us two thickened—charged with something neither of you could name.

Noah’s lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something real. Something true.

But then—

A twig snapped.

Not from behind him. Not from the trees.

From behind both of us—in the dark woods where no one else should’ve been walking.

Both our heads turned toward the sound at once.

Noah’s grip on the knife tightened again—but this time, not because he wanted to hurt me.

I instinctively step in front of him, putting myself between him and whatever lurks ahead.

“The hell was that?” I demand, my voice low and wary.

The woods were pitch black now, the moonlight swallowed by thick branches.

That noise… deliberate. Close. Too close for an animal.

My heart hammered in my chest.

Noah stood frozen behind me—his breath shallow, his knife still half-drawn but no longer aimed at me. The threat had shifted. Someone—or something—else was out there.

Then…