1 PROLOGUE: Too Late of an Afterthought

You will always be my biggest regret.

We first met when we were 13. The two of us mirroring the same chubby cheeks, ignorant eyes, and acne breakouts that children our age suffers. We met at a time when it was impossible to make a decent first impression. But as we soon found out, first impressions are not necessarily important since you and I barely acknowledged each other anyway, preferring to keep to ourselves and engage with people with similar interests.

You were simply one of the many faces in the hallway. Recognizable, but not life changing. You were part of the fun kids: bright, unnecessarily energetic, and aware of the popular trends. Whereas I tend to stick with people who were a bit introverted and academically inclined. You never knew my name, I never knew yours— it was a decent relationship between two strangers attending the same school.

Two years past by, and we only exchanged nods in the hallway while your eyes continuously stray towards her. How could it not? She was bright like the sun, with voice as soft as the summer breeze and a temperament as calm as the sunrise. She was beautiful, and you were hooked. Suddenly, the nods turned into greetings, and then the greetings turned into questions. How is she? What food does she like? How long have you known her?

And I answered every question with careful replies, bluntly telling you that I will not provide you information that will threaten her privacy. And you laughed, so loud yet so delicate. Patting me on the head and simply nodding as if to say I passed the test. I gritted my teeth loudly and elbowed you hard between your ribs. You were annoying, you know that? How dare you test my loyalty to my friend!

I cursed at you violently, glaring and huffing before walking away briskly. I threatened that I will hurt you if you approach me again, but you just smiled and told me that I should eat lunch with you sometimes. For some reason, you never stopped approaching me even though I treat you with utmost hostility— offering me treats when I get mad at you for getting too close and running after me when I ignore you.

You never got tired of chasing the rabid dog that I was, and I slowly started warming up to you. You purposely provoked me in multiple occasions, but you never crossed the line that makes me uncomfortable. You were honest and brutal to my flaws, but yet you phrase them so delicately that it does not offend me. You did your best to befriend me which I am thankful for, but it also hurts me because I know that it was for her.

Although it was not to take advantage of my closeness with her as I first thought, but rather as a favour due to being close to her— it doesn't change the fact that it was because of her. You would always say that you were thankful that she has a friend like me, and that you feel safer knowing that I watch out for her. All of your kindness were true, but it was for the wrong reasons.

I watched you steadily put effort into courting her every day for two more years. Special gifts, quick dates, and even handwritten letters. You would dress up in mascots and costumes just to entertain her. With home made cooking, and self made presents just to please her. You even went the extra mile just to meet her parents and get their approval so you can officially start courting her.

Every day for two years, you would brain storm and prepare for special events and spend hours after hours working hard to be the best person for her. You endlessly pursued her because you were determined that she is the one. And so we continued with our strange arrangement, our friendship getting stronger each year. From a weirdly formed friendship due to gratefulness, we graduated into actual friends who share similar interests.

While you glue cardboard boxes to create the fake cake you jumped from during her surprise birthday party, I mindlessly pass out in your bedroom floor while eating your secret stash of junk foods as I serve as the useless moral support for your little project. While you shop for flowers, I timidly follow you around with the weird strawberry popcorn you got me as a bribe so that I will go with you into the fancy floral shop in the girliest part of the mall. While you shop for costumes to wear for the holiday, I will be the one watching your fashion montage as I die of boredom in the boutique couch.

For some reason, I was there the entire time to see you dote and love her. Painfully aware that you two will eventually get together and create the happy haven you both deserve.

I do not know how or why I was stupid enough to feel comfortable with the situation. To expect that our circumstances will remain the same after you reach the end of your journey with her. To assume that I will have a place in the future with someone who only made space for me because of his devotion for my best friend.

Soon, things went downhill. I knew I was too close to you, and it did not take them a long time to see that too. People started talking. They started to whisper and see that there is something wrong with the way I look at you. They do not believe that our relationship is as innocent as it looks.

They think that we spend too much time together, that it's very questionable how touchy we are with each other, that it's wrong that I even have a key to your apartment while the girl that you love has never even seen your front door. Suddenly the rumours grew wings, and people started questioning my character and your honesty.

And yet you never allowed them to hurl a single insult to my face at that time. You bravely confronted everyone who dares tarnish my name any further, standing up for me and insisting that it was not like that. That I am too kind and loyal to even dare to hurt her, never defending your name— just mine.

You were always so selfless. So devoted and kind.

And yet I did not dare say anything against the rumours about me, simply watching it fester and rot into their brains. Never defending myself against the hurtful words that the girls constantly berate me with. After all, I will be lying to them if I say that I do not wish for us to develop a romantic relationship when deep in my heart, I knew that I do. I was already a horrible person, I do not wish to also be a liar.

I was feeding on scraps of attention from you. I cherished every act of kindness you do for me; relishing from the care you provide and hating myself at the same time. It was a horrible position to be in, and I knew that staying in it for too long will simply end me.

So I made a decision. A gamble and a risk. I made a choice for you.

We were 17 when the junior prom happened. You wanted to find me a suitable date and volunteered to carry the things that will not fit my fancy, tiny purse. You asked me how high my heels would be and made plans on how to get me to the banquet and to send me home afterwards. You smiled at me brightly, pulling out a stupid, white binder with pictures of schoolmates with similar interest as me who are still looking for partners. I told you that I can find a date by myself, but you insisted that I at least introduce you to the person so you can contact each other just in case of emergencies.

I remember vaguely making a joke about a bombing incident that might occur in the venue, and you glared at me before flicking me in the forehead lightly. Saying that it's better to be safe than sorry.

I wanted to tell you. I really did.

But you were brimming with happiness when you showed me the suit you were going to wear. Navy blue, you bragged loudly, because it will compliment her dress nicely. You continued to lay down your plans for the prom while I space out indefinitely. Soon enough, I ended up sleeping over again because you were worried that I will fall asleep in the bus and end up somewhere sketchy. It seems like you never forgot that one time I accidentally ended up walking around the bad part of town at 3 am after missing my stop. I guess story times involving being approached by a shady weed dealer freaked you out too much that you no longer trust me to commute alone at night.

Thankfully my mother trusted your integrity so much that she does not feel awkward with leaving me alone with you. Either that or she thought I was a lesbian because of my lack of interest for the opposite sex.

The next day you ended up sending me home just in case and gave me a blue corsage. You anticipated that I will not get one for myself, so you took the liberty to prepare one for me. After figuring out who I am going with, you immediately left to prepare yourself for prom.

If I had known that this will be the outcome,

I would have waited for that dance

instead of leaving the party too early.

I would have walked through the crowd despite the heart wrenching anxiety that strangles me every time I slid into that dance floor, and demand that you stop waiting and dance with me instead.

If I knew that she will eventually leave you and rob you of the happiness you deserved, I would have never turned my back and left that day.

But it's over and done.

You chose the wrong person, and I chose not to fight for the one. I left, she left— and now you are nowhere to be found.

If only we could have another chance.