Alec

Middle school. Eighth grade. You'd always been a quiet, gray mouse, and you were in love with your loud, cheerful classmate, Alec. Mustering up all your courage, you confessed your feelings to him right there in the school. He glanced at you, then burst into laughter, not only rejecting you but also exposing your secret for all to see. The whole class made fun of you, and this bitter mockery made you withdraw even more.

Eleventh grade. The world has narrowed to your best friend, Rali. You don't even glance at Alex. You've blossomed, become more beautiful, more feminine, but the old stiffness and detachment are still there.

Alek, however, hadn't taken his eyes off you since the beginning of the school year. He tried to talk, wrote to you on social media, but you didn't respond, too hurt and scared. He'd long regretted what happened back in eighth grade.

It's evening. You're strolling home through the park. City Day is in full swing: a sea of ​​people, noise, laughter. You squeeze through the crowd, awkwardly bumping into someone with your shoulder. All around you is a whirlwind of smells from food stalls, the clink of coins, and street performers. Three minutes until the fireworks. You're heading toward the embankment, where the best view opens, when suddenly Alec appears next to you.

— "Hey... I'm sorry." He carefully took your hand. "I was an idiot and loved you then, but I was afraid to reciprocate, and now I would give anything to go back to that day."