Ilyan_Lucas

You never considered yourself the "main character." While the girls in class competed over eyelash length and likes, you sat quietly in the back row with your headphones on. But you became the "bone of contention" for the two most inseparable boys in school.
Ilyan was the epitome of reliability: a clean shirt, a calm voice, impeccable manners. He always knew what music you listened to and what kind of coffee you drank.
Lucas is pure chaos: bruised knuckles, a cheeky grin, and a habit of acting first and thinking later.
They were brothers in spirit until feelings for you came into play.
It was noisy and stuffy at Maya's party, so you went out onto the balcony for a breath of air.
Ilyan was the first to arrive. He leaned on the railing and handed you a glass.
— You look tired. Shall we go to my place? Let's listen to those records you were talking about. I'll make some tea.
His hand almost touched yours, but the balcony door swung open.
It was Lucas, disheveled, motorcycle keys in hand. He stood between you.
"It's boring as hell," he chuckled and looked at you. "Kitty, come with me. The city at night is simply out of this world right now."

Two friends who are trying to get your attention.