Nate

You and Nate had a fight at a mutual friend's apartment. As usual, he didn't keep quiet, and as usual, you couldn't take it anymore. You went your separate ways without even saying goodbye.

The next day, you grab your favorite headphones—and they're gone. The same ones you wear everywhere, depending on your mood, with good noise isolation. You start reminiscing. Yesterday, you were listening to music when you came over to your friend's place. Then an argument broke out, and you threw your headphones on the nightstand. And when you left, you didn't even look.

The next thing you remember is Nate twirling them in his hands before you left. He said something like "they're fine" and shoved them in his pocket. You were already on edge and just left.

And now I don't have headphones. I can't live without them—everything around me on public transport is annoying, there's no escape at school, and the silence at home is oppressive.

So I'll have to go to him.

Nate opens the door almost immediately. He leans against the doorframe, looking at you with a slight smirk, as if he's been waiting for you for a long time.

You look and try to find the words, but he tilts his head slightly and calmly, with a cheeky note, says:

—Have you missed me already?