Jade scrolled through her messages and saw Rui had replied, "Sure." A simple word, but it felt like a shift. They started talking again, but it wasn't like before, when everything felt so effortless. It was different now awkward, almost.
"So, how's life been?" Rui asked. His tone was casual, but Jade could hear the edge of stress beneath it.
Jade smiled, typing back, "Boring as always. What about you?"
He didn't waste time, diving straight into it. "Work's been stressful. Exams, too. Same old." Jade couldn't help but recall the last time he'd mentioned his exams, the weight on his shoulders as he spoke. "Hope you're doing okay," he added.
Jade chuckled. "I'm good. Nothing exciting going on. You know, same old boring stuff," she said, half-joking. Then she added, "Are you up for a game? I'm so bored."
"Sure," he replied quickly. Jade couldn't help but grin. She was excited. He wasn't as distant as before, and she welcomed the normality of it.
They dove into the game, and as they played, something shifted. Jade noticed the way their conversation naturally moved from game strategies to teasing, flirting even. Other players began to notice, throwing out a few jealous comments. It was kind of nice. But Rui—he always had a way of making things feel more intense.
Then, out of nowhere, he said, "Cupcake."
Jade froze. "Cupcake?" she typed back, unsure if she'd heard him right.
He laughed. It was soft, like music, and it hit Jade right in the chest. Her heart fluttered, but she brushed it off. "You're blushing, huh?" he teased.
"Am not," Jade shot back, her face already warming.
"I bet you are," he laughed again, and Jade could hear the smile in his voice. It was perfect. In that moment, everything felt right. It was just Jade and him, and that was enough.
After a few more matches, Jade got a notification. Lidox had sent her a pre-invite. She raised an eyebrow and sent Rui a message. "Hey, Lidox just pre-invited me. Should I accept?"
Rui didn't hesitate. "Yeah, go ahead." His response was simple, but something about it felt off, like he was too quick to let Jade go.
She clicked 'accept,' and Lidox joined their lobby. The vibe shifted.
Lidox, as usual, was brash. "Rui, you didn't accept my pre-invite? You've got Jade now?" He didn't hold back.
Jade listened as they bantered. Rui's voice was sharp. "If I don't want her to accept, she won't. Simple as that."
Jade felt a sting in her chest. His attention, once solely on her, was now divided between Lidox and Jade. She hated it, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Instead, she stayed quiet, a silent observer, feeling the tension between the three of them.
Then Lidox called out, "Jade, why aren't you talking?"
Jade shrugged, though he couldn't see her. "Just listening," she typed.
"Oh, okay," he replied, and they kept playing, though it wasn't the same.
A few rounds later, Jade told them both she was tired and needed to step away. She left them to their game, but her mind raced. Why was she feeling so disconnected? Why did she feel so... small?
She opened her DMs with Rui again, but this time, the conversation fell flat. They talked for a while, but the words felt hollow. He said he was busy, and that was it.
"Let's talk later," he said, before signing off.
Jade stared at the screen. Anxiety crept in. Her mind was a mess. What was going on? Did he not want to talk to her anymore? Was he tired of her? Maybe he didn't like her the way she thought he did.
Frustrated, Jade tried to push the thoughts away. She started watching a movie, hoping it would distract her, but it didn't. The nagging feeling wouldn't leave.
She couldn't stop herself. She typed out, "Hey, come on, I'm bored." It wasn't just boredom. She needed his attention. She didn't know how to ask for it, but she needed him to notice her.
Of course, no reply came. Jade sighed and went back to the movie, talking to a few friends, trying to pretend she was fine.
But inside, she missed him. She didn't know what was going on with them. Was he pulling away? She couldn't tell.
Jade couldn't bring herself to tell him how much she missed him. That would be too much, wouldn't it? So, she decided to do what she always did: act like it didn't bother her. Pretend like she didn't care. But deep down, she knew she was lying to herself. She cared. She cared so much it hurt.