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Gun was sitting in the school staff room. It had been a week since he started the job. The work environment was pleasant, but he already knew that. He had applied specifically because of it. That's what he'd liked most during his placement, and working with his friend made it even better.

Things with Sing were going fairly well, though they hadn't quite gone back to how they were before. Sing was acting a bit strange, which made Gun feel uneasy. They'd met up a couple of times at Sing's insistence.

Gun didn't yet feel enough time had passed to be fully comfortable spending time alone with him. He thought Sing often crossed boundaries with physical contact, though it could just be paranoia, knowing how Sing felt about him.

"Well, at least we've been able to keep our friendship," Sing had said the last time they went out together, happily eating a pistachio ice cream as he threw an arm around Gun's shoulders. "Sometimes friendships are deeper than romantic relationships. We're mates, and that's unbreakable—way more stable and meaningful than having a boyfriend or girlfriend."

Gun felt incredibly uncomfortable. It was only the second time they'd met since the confession, and everything felt too much: too much physical contact, too much familiarity, too much of everything. He subtly shifted away so as not to hurt Sing's feelings and nodded.

"See? We don't even need words to understand each other. That's what a real friendship is. Anyway... how's it going with that person you like? Have you told them yet?"

Gun wasn't sure how to respond, but he didn't want to tell Sing anything. He thought that, in time, things would feel normal again. He'd always considered Sing a friend and confidant, and they used to talk about everything openly... until that kiss. He thought about telling Sing directly that he didn't want to talk about it, but he knew that what had happened between them was partly his fault too. So, he tried to change the subject without being too blunt, thinking that when everything settled down, he'd eventually tell him about the neighbour.

"Honestly, no, I haven't. And to be fair, I'm not really planning to either. I just don't feel right about it at the moment, so I'd rather not talk about it."

He answered carefully, trying not to hurt Sing with his evasiveness, but to his surprise, Sing seemed quite pleased with his response. Gun didn't quite know how to handle the situation.

To make matters worse, Sing was constantly commenting on all his photos on social media with things like, "Bro, always looking cute," or "Here's my best mate." He was trying hard to restore their friendship, but his efforts only made Gun more uncomfortable.

Camila had suggested that maybe they were both still affected by what had happened. Gun hoped that was the case because he really did value Sing's friendship.

As for his neighbour, well, the truth was, Gun felt hurt—both in his heart and his pride. He didn't know why Off had acted the way he had. Well, actually, he did. If his sister was right and Off didn't care about other people's feelings, his behaviour made perfect sense. Gun didn't like thinking that, but Off hadn't really shown him otherwise.

All week Off had been avoiding him. At first, Gun thought it was just a coincidence, but he became convinced it wasn't when, the day before, he saw Off quickly retreat and slip back into his house when he saw Gun with Sing as they returned from getting ice cream.

After that, Gun started to feel annoyed. He was angry. What did Off think? That if they ran into each other, he'd rush into his arms and cry? Could he be more self-centred and childish?

"Gun, you've got that look again. Who do I need to kill? Just say the word and I'm in. You know I'm your friend and accomplice."

Gun glanced at Camila with a smile. He always found it funny when she called him by his name. She always did that at work, and not hearing her call him 'Piglet' or 'Ami', the short form for the word 'friend' in Spanish, felt odd.

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