Something, Nothing

CHAPTER 5

a/n: pls follow my new writer account on ig yall @fragmentedly 
i promise to be more active on ig this time around hahaaaaa, and i might be a bit more chatty over there. so if yall wanna know me (im a nice person i swear) instagram's the place 😗👍

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CHAPTER 5 — FRIENDS

Timing is a funny thing and for me personally, it also has been vindictive for no good reason.

Just as I open the door to head out, guess who's standing on the other side, hand halfway outstretched undoubtedly to open the same door.

Ken.

I stare at him dumbly, shell-shocked. But thankfully, he doesn't supply to the awkwardness as well and smiles at me. A miniscule part of my brain rapidly analyses his smile and says that this smile appears forced and is unlike the smile he has given me before — I, in return, tell that part of my brain to shut it as a way of thank-you.

"Hey," he says.

I clear my throat before opening my mouth as a good measure, "Hi,"

"Leaving already?"

"Huh? Hmm, yeah. Yeah," I nod, stepping out, and Ken steps aside to let another person who came after him in, "You?"

"I'm going in," he waves the phone his hand, "Just stepped out for a sec to attend a call,"

"Oh, okay,"

Silence ensues, since neither of us doesn't know what to say next. Well, actually, I do have some things I want to say to him, but I just don't know how and I also don't know if I should.

"So..." Ken starts and I look up, expectantly, deciding that I'm going to actually talk to him this time around unlike before, "I should go in,"

Oh. I mean yeah, he's here for the party, not for me, so of course, he wants to go in. I ignore the little weight I feel on my chest and bop my head once:

"Right," I take a step back, "I should get going as well. Bye,"

"Bye,"

I turn around and start to walk away. It's for the best. It's for the best. It's for the best. I chant in my head. At least I cannot see him for the next few weeks, I console myself, and then when I return for the next semester, who knows, I might have forgotten about Ken altogether. I just have to get away for now.

"Aarvin, wait,"

I stop. That voice is undeniably Ken's.

He can't be calling me, can he? Maybe I'm just imagining.

I turn around to make sure, and oh, okay, I'm not imagining. It is Ken.

He catches up to me, "Hey. Again,"

"Hi?" I look behind him — there's no one. I raise my eyebrows at him, "Did I leave something behind?"

Maybe I left something back at the party, and Jomar got it, and maybe Ken said he just passed by me and offered to give me it — who knows, maybe.

"No,"

Okay, maybe not.

"I, um...," Ken lets out a breath through his mouth and his eyes wander everywhere.

Is he nervous? Why would he be nervous?

"What?" I can't control my own curiosity either.

"I, just–," another breath — a sharp one this time, and then he is able to look at me again, "I have this problem okay. I kinda need everyone to like me, and I cannot stand the fact knowing that there could potentially be someone who doesn't like me. I am very much aware that it is a problem and I am working on it, but..." he grimaces at me and waves his hand at me up and down.

I frown at him, not knowing what exactly he's trying to convey here.

"You're my best friend's boyfriend's roommate, and I think you're kind of a cool person too,"

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome," he sighs, "I just..." he blows air through his mouth, his shoulders falling a little, "I think it would be cool if we could be friends. But..." he drawls, and I have to bite my tongue to not hurry him, and then finally he flat out asks, "Why do you hate me?"

"What?" I gape.

"Why do you hate me?" he replies — quite calmly too, if I may add.

"I– I–," I stutter and then clearing my throat, I clarify, "I don't hate you," I cross my arms, scoffing, "Why would you think that?"

He narrows his eyes at me suspiciously, clearly assessing my expression. I just raise my eyebrows in return.

He shakes his head lightly, taking in a deep breath, "Because... you never want to talk to me. Even when we all hang out together, you just talk to Jomar or Sun Ling. I've even tried to start conversations with you but you just... ignore them," his voice falls to a whisper towards the end and I feel bad.

I feel so bad — if only he knew that the reason I don't talk to him is the dead opposite. But I can't tell him that. I don't want to tell him that.

I also definitely did not realise that he even noticed me not talking to him.

"It's whatever," I took too long to reply — he's starting to walk backwards, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched up, "Just ignore me, like you always do," and then grimacing, "Okay, shit. That's not– I'm just gonna go. Bye,"

And I should have let him go. Just let him think that I do hate him, make it conveniently easier for my existence. But I think I must be some kind of masochist, because I say:

"I don't hate you, Ken,"

That stops him from turning around, but his shoulders are still hunched forward, "You don't have to say that for my sake. It's–"

"No, I really don't hate you. It's kind of the opposite," wait, no I was not supposed to say that — and so I quickly add, "I kind of am an introvert. And I generally do not talk to people,"

"Yeah. I asked Jomar and he said that too," he says sheepishly.

He asked Jomar about me? I try to not fixate on that small but definitely humongous detail that Ken has just imparted.

"So, it's hard for me to just start talking to someone," especially when that someone is someone like Ken — I force out a chuckle, "Also I'm not very good at reading social cues, so I did not know you wanted to actually talk to me. Even the other day at the cafeteria I thought you were just trying to be polite,"

He laughs, "That's when I definitely knew for sure you hated me,"

"No, that's not–,"

"I know now I was wrong," he assures me, "So...," he extends his hand towards me, "Friends?"

I look at his hand and then into his very expectant blue eyes. There's no escaping from this at all.

I shake his hand, "Friends,"

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a/n: another reminder, cause why not follow me on ig @fragmentedly