Alter

Take 18!

Despite War's reluctant agreement to talk after dinner, he still made a last-ditch effort to avoid it by trying to slip away with Sarah and Priya. 

He figured if he could quietly disappear into the night, maybe he could dodge the impending heart-to-heart with Vee—a conversation that made his insides twist uncomfortably.

But Mrs. Wang had her own ideas. Ever the subtle meddler, she insisted that Vee personally take War back to his hotel. "Go on, dear. He's your responsibility," she said, leaving no room for negotiation, and adding a wink that was anything but subtle.

Sarah and Priya exchanged silent glances, barely containing their amusement. Sarah, ever the romantic, thought with a grin, Ah, fate at work. It's like watching a live K-drama. She almost wanted to grab popcorn. Priya, on the other hand, tried to suppress a snicker, thinking, Poor War, off to face his romantic doom. We'll light a candle for you, buddy.

As War begrudgingly made his way toward Vee's sleek Mercedes-Benz S-Class, his pale face standing out in the night like a deer caught in headlights, Sarah gave him an overly enthusiastic thumbs-up from behind, as if sending him into battle. Priya, never one to miss the drama, waved theatrically, like she was seeing him off to a tragic love scene in some tear-jerking movie.

War, however, was not feeling the romance. He slid into the passenger seat, feeling like he was being escorted to his doom, while the girls in the background exchanged a silent, knowing look. He's gonna need a stiff drink after this, Sarah thought, stifling a laugh.

Priya? She was already imagining War's face during "the talk" and it took all her willpower not to burst into giggles. Ah. The good little ex girlfriend that she was.

Vee drove them in silence up to the parking lot of War's hotel, the air inside the car thick with tension. Neither of them dared to speak, both too terrified that the first words exchanged might be the spark to ignite something irreversible, a bomb that could obliterate whatever fragile thread was holding them together.

Vee's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his mind racing with unspoken thoughts. War sat next to him, equally restless, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee as if searching for the right moment—or maybe the courage—to say something. But the silence stretched on, uncomfortable and heavy, both knowing that once the conversation started, there was no telling where it might lead.

It was the kind of quiet that screamed louder than any argument, full of things unsaid, fears hidden beneath the surface. Each of them was bracing for the other to break the uneasy truce, but neither willing to be the one to start. Both afraid that the first word could be the one that shatters everything they've tried to hold onto.

As they settled into the car, an awkward silence hung in the air, thick with the weight of unspoken words. War stared out the window, willing himself to disappear into the night, while Vee, behind the wheel, was gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. 

Both of them knew the conversation was coming, but neither was brave enough to break the ice.

Finally, War cleared his throat. "So, about the—" he started, just as Vee blurted out, "Uhmm, about the—"

They both stopped, then blinked at each other in surprise. A beat of silence followed, and then they both scrambled to be polite.

"You go first," Vee muttered, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"No, no, you go ahead," War said, shaking his head, trying to push the moment back to Vee.

"No, I insist, you first," Vee said, sounding more insistent this time, but War wasn't about to let him get away that easily.