The lounge was dim and elegant, with wooden walls, gold details, and the quiet clinking of glasses. Soft jazz played in the background, coming from speakers hidden around the room.
Outside, stars hung quietly above the dark mountains, but inside, everything felt relaxed, calm and classy.
They’d spent the whole day exploring, jumping from one cute little restaurant to another, laughing way too hard at their own inside jokes, snapping blurry selfies, and pretending they weren’t freezing.
Well, at least Phoebe and Keith were.
Craig mostly stayed quiet, tagging along like their silent third wheel, sipping his coffee and watching them with that usual closed-off look on his face.
By the ti they landed here, they were warm from wine and buzzed from sugar.
Phoebe leaned back into the velvet seat, letting her eyes wander around the lounge.
"This place looks like it charges extra just for breathing," she said, twirling her straw like she was half-joking, half-impressed.
Craig didn’t laugh. He didn’t even smile. Just lifted his glass and took a sip, eyes fixed ahead, "You didn’t seem to mind when the drinks showed up."
Phoebe let out a quiet scoff, crossing one leg over the other. "I adapt," she said lightly.
He nodded, like he was done talking.
But she wasn’t. Not really.
She glanced at him again, slower this ti. "Adriana’s not joining us tonight?"
Silence draped over the table like a heavy coat.
Keith froze mid-sip, his glass hovering awkwardly near his mouth, like he wasn’t sure whether to take a drink or let the half-ford smile on his face settle into sothing full.
Craig didn’t even twitch. He kept his eyes on his drink, jaw set, like the question didn’t faze him, even if it did.
Phoebe noticed imdiately. Her brows jumped. "What?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused. "I haven’t seen her around in a while."
Craig set down his glass with a dull click. "We broke up."
Phoebe blinked. "Wait. What?"
She turned to Keith like she needed confirmation, like maybe Craig was ssing with her.
Keith gave a little shrug, barely looking up from his drink. "Yeah... happened right on New Year’s Day."
Phoebe’s mouth opened, then closed again. "You’re joking. What?"
Craig looked straight at her, a slight frown forming. "Why are you surprised? People break up." He picked up his glass but didn’t drink from it, just turned it slowly in his hand.
"Yeah, but this is you. And Adriana. You guys were so adorable." Phoebe sighed, her shoulders sagging just a little as she cradled her glass. For a second, she actually looked sad.
Craig’s deanor was calm, but the edge in his eyes said he didn’t want his personal life to beco the topic of the night.
But Phoebe didn’t stop there, kept going, her voice full of disbelief. "So that’s it?" she narrowed her eyes. "Just... boom. Over?"
"It was mutual," Craig muttered, then added under his breath, "Sort of."
Keith glanced between them, looking more and more like he wished he wasn’t here. Then, with a wince, he added, "He kissed soone."
Phoebe’s jaw dropped. "Excuse ?"
"On his birthday," Keith continued like ripping off a band-aid. "At the party."
"Wait who?" Phoebe asked, but her question went over their heads.
Craig shook his head. "That’s not why we broke up," he said, correcting Keith.
And it wasn’t even at the party, but Craig didn’t bother correcting that.
Keith held up a hand. "I’m not done. She wasn’t even mad about that. What got her? She said, and I quote—’It wasn’t the kiss, it was that you stopped talking to after. Like I was so weird guilt in your pocket.’"
Craig blinked. Hard. "Wow, you morized all that?"
Phoebe bit her lip to stop a smile. "She kinda ate with that one."
Keith glanced over, eyes eting hers. They shared a quick laugh in agreent.
Craig just sipped his wine. "Whatever."
Keith tossed a peanut at him. "You did ghost her for like... a week."
"I needed space."
"To think about who?" Phoebe asked lightly.
Craig didn’t answer, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about her, because nothing about that question was light.
He could say it, right here, right now. Her na. rlina.
He could tell them what happened between them, end it all. The lies, the pretense and the fake perfect relationship with Louis she wanted to protect so bad.
He could blow the whole thing wide open.
But he didn’t.
Because he knew her, he knew that if he let even one word slip, if he said her na in that tone, if he gave himself away for even a second, it would be over.
She would never forgive him. And no matter how much he wanted to scream the truth, he wanted her more.
So instead, he leaned back in his chair, eyes on the rim of his glass, and said nothing.
Phoebe gave him a long curious look, but she didn’t press again.
After a few more glasses, she excused herself to the bathroom, heels clicking against the tile as she walked into the narrow hallway, dimly lit and lined with art of foggy mountain landscapes.
Inside, the restroom was warm, lavender-scented, and filled with the kind of old-school glamour that made even reapplying lip gloss feel fancy.
Phoebe washed her hands slowly, half-listening to two girls who were too engrossed in their gossip to notice her. They were talking near the sinks, voices hushed but not careful enough.
"He’s not even here with Adriana tonight, but you see Craig and the new girl...he’s like weirdly protective."
New Girl ?
Phoebe didn’t move much, but her head dipped slightly, trying to catch everything that was being said.
"rlina, right ?" the other girl laughed. "Lizzie said they both stord into her room one night asking questions, and Craig just stood there like he was her bodyguard."
"And at El Capitan," the first one added, "they stayed up late in their tent, whispering to each other that night. Like... it was giving sneaky link behavior, for real."
"Wait...didn’t Adriana show up there too? Later? Like she knew sothing was up?"
"Mmhmm. Jesse was in that tent, said the other girl...rlina, she looked pissed but played it off. Cause she imdiately left the tent when Adriana ca. Still...the whole thing was sus."
Phoebe froze, paper towel crinkling in her hand. Her heart started beating faster, not even out of gossip thrill, but because the pieces were clicking too fast.
The awkwardness, the timing, the tension between rlina and Craig that they pretended not to see.
She stepped out of the restroom a few minutes later, steps slow, trying to look normal. Her thoughts were spinning. Craig’s silence. The girls whispering like it was obvious. The break up.
Back at the table, the restaurant looked exactly the sa, glasses clinked, soone laughed a few tables over, and the waiter was still making rounds with quiet grace.
Phoebe sat down smoothly like nothing had changed, tossed her hair behind her shoulder as if she hadn’t just heard sothing insane.
Just then, another thought sparked in Phoebe’s head. Her gaze flicked up to Craig, studying his face for a minute before she spoke.
Hesitant, yet unable to ignore the wild thoughts tumbling through her mind.
She wet her lips, as if testing the words before they ca out. "So...how was Spain?"
Craig’s head turned.
He looked at her, steadily and quietly, like he was trying to trace the shape of her question before it fully landed, as if asuring what she knew, or what she thought she knew.
His body tensed, not all at once, but in that quiet, tight way, like a wire pulled just short of snapping.
"rlina was there too," Phoebe said casually, lifting a bite of Caprese salad to her mouth, her fork glinting under the pendant light. "Did you know?"
Craig didn’t answer right away.
His brow creased into a frown, not confused, but pointed, like he was searching for the right words, then decided against them. Instead, he gave her a look that clearly said: Why the hell are you asking that?
Phoebe got the ssage and nodded to herself, letting out a soft sigh, "Right. The FaceTi. Of course you did."
Craig’s only response was a slow and asured sip from his glass, he didn’t look at her anymore. What was that about ?
Keith, blissfully unaware of the shift in energy, was still tearing into his rosemary-crusted lamb, nodding at the flavors like he’d just discovered fine dining.
The lamb was pink in the center, served on a bed of truffle whipped potatoes and drizzled with a port wine reduction, decadent enough to distract from any social cues.
Craig, anwhile, had leaned back in his seat, one arm resting over the chair. He picked up his phone and started scrolling aimlessly. The screen lit up his face, but he wasn’t really looking at it.
Phoebe didn’t say anything else. The question had already landed, and whatever answer she was hoping for was definitely not coming.
The table went quiet again, not awkward exactly, but dimd sohow, like the room had lost a little of its earlier glow.
Eventually, they paid the bill and left. The wine was finished, the plates cleared, the candles burning low. Whatever lingered between them followed silently into the night air.
Later that night in their dorm, rlina sat curled on her bed, laptop open, brows drawn in quiet frustration.
She hadn’t recovered from what she and Louis had discovered, soone had been logging into her mom’s old forum, and she still couldn’t make sense of it.
Now, she was digging through ancient text threads and email chains, scrolling through old ssages from teachers, family friends, even distant relatives, anyone who might have run the site with her mom. Anything that could explain why soone would still be checking in.
She barely noticed when the door opened.
Phoebe stepped in, dropped her bag by her bed, and paused. "Hey," she said casually. "Working on sothing this late?"
rlina looked up, then quickly back down. "Yeah. Just... sothing important."
She didn’t elaborate, and Phoebe didn’t press, at least not on that. She kicked off her shoes, stretched a little, then turned back to rlina.
"So," Phoebe said, tone light but pointed. "Is there sothing between you and Craig?"
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