Tales from the Friendzone

Chapter 1

Luke Rivera sat on his worn leather couch, staring at the muted glow of his TV. It played some rerun of a show he'd seen a thousand times, but he wasn't watching it. His thoughts were far away, stuck in the usual place—his love life, or rather, his lack thereof. He sighed, taking a long sip from the bottle of beer in his hand, shaking his head as he mentally recounted his years of romantic failures.

"How did I get here again?" Luke muttered under his breath, the sound of his own voice breaking the oppressive quiet of his apartment. His eyes drifted to a photo on the coffee table. It was an old snapshot from high school, a younger version of himself standing next to his best friend, Izzie Morales. Her wide, toothy smile lit up the frame, while Luke, awkwardly slouched beside her, wore a grin that never quite reached his eyes. Even back then, he had always been just her friend—her best friend.

And that was the problem.

He leaned back against the couch cushions, running his hand through his tousled brown hair. A soft knock at the door jolted him from his reverie.

"Coming!" he called out, tossing the empty beer bottle onto the coffee table with a dull clink. As he opened the door, there she stood—Isabella Morales, or as he called her, Izzie. She was still in her work clothes, a neatly pressed blouse and black pencil skirt, but her hair was slightly disheveled, her face flushed with frustration.

"Hey," Izzie said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. She kicked off her heels with an exasperated sigh. "God, you wouldn't believe the day I've had."

Luke smiled despite himself. She always had a way of lighting up his place with her presence. It didn't matter how bad his day was going; Izzie had the uncanny ability to make everything feel just a little bit better. It was one of the many reasons he'd fallen for her.

"Rough day at work?" he asked, closing the door behind her as she collapsed onto his couch like it was hers.

"That's putting it lightly." Izzie groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes dramatically. "Quinn and I had another fight. I swear, I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Ah, there it was. Quinn Delgado—the bane of Luke's existence. Ever since Izzie had started dating Quinn, a guy who seemed to have it all—looks, confidence, and the kind of charm that drew people to him effortlessly—Luke had been relegated even further into the "supportive friend" zone.

Luke forced a chuckle as he sat down beside her, careful to maintain a friendly distance. "What happened this time?"

Izzie uncovered her eyes, sitting up with a frustrated huff. "He doesn't get it. We were supposed to meet for lunch today, and he just... didn't show. No call, no text. I waited for over an hour before finally giving up and going back to the office." She looked at Luke, her brown eyes pleading for some kind of understanding. "He's always doing this, Luke. He says he's busy, but then I see him posting on social media about how he's hanging out with his friends or playing basketball. Am I overreacting?"

Luke swallowed hard. It took everything in him not to blurt out Yes, you are. You deserve better, and I could be that for you. Instead, he played his usual role—the patient, reliable friend.

"Nah, you're not overreacting," Luke said, his tone calm and measured. "I mean, you guys have been together for a while now. It's not unreasonable to expect a little more consideration, right?"

Izzie sighed, sinking further into the couch. "Exactly! You get it, Luke. Why doesn't he? Every time we fight, I feel like I'm the one making all the compromises, you know?"

Luke nodded, feeling the familiar tightness in his chest. "Maybe... maybe you're putting in more effort than he is."

That wasn't the first time he'd suggested it. But every time he hinted at the imbalance in her relationship with Quinn, Izzie would brush it off, too caught up in her own whirlwind of emotions to truly consider the possibility.