Chapter Text
Your letters were your most prized possessions. Yours, and yours only.
They were something you wrote when you had a crush so intense you felt like you needed to let it all out in order to try and snap out of it or otherwise you’d collapse.
So you wrote letters to try to find closure. Detailed letters that contained every unfiltered and embarrassing thought and feeling you could find in yourself. Everything you noticed about them, everything you wished you had with them, everything you wanted to say but couldn’t.
You never sent them, of course. That was completely off the table. They remained inside the little blue box with the white ribbon buried in the back of your closet, from where you would occasionally take them just to read them again and reminisce on the thoughts a younger version of you once had about all those different people. They were all stamped and addressed, but never, ever posted.
There were six in total, addressed to five different people.
The first one ever written had been for Eli, in seventh grade. Adorable little Eli, who was one of the biggest nerds you’d ever seen, always too shy to talk around others, but who would go on and on excitedly about a tv show or a comic book series he liked for hours when the two of you got parked together for a chemistry project, ironically, and he seemed to warm up enough to you to let out little bits of the real him.
Eli, who was trembling like crazy before kissing you on a game of spin the bottle, right before running home crying because some girl thought it would be funny to comment on how she wouldn't have let him kiss her with "that mouth" as she said with disgust, if she were you. You, in turn, couldn't feel more different from that bullshit thought of hers after that messy seventh grade first kiss.
That letter was followed by a new one, addressed also to him, but the new him this time around, many years later, in sophomore year- Hawk, not Eli.
Hawk, who had decided to “flip the script”, as he called it, by changing his entire aesthetic, the way he dressed and the way he did his hair, showing up to school on a random day with a blue dyed mohawk and a brand new attitude. And you liked it.
Confident Eli seemed happier even though he sometimes acted like a bit of an asshole and, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, looked really, really hot. He was still Eli, but this Eli wasn’t afraid to flirt with you, which evoked brand new feelings in you.
Therefore, a new letter.
The second letter you ever wrote was addressed to Demetri, from eight grade, who you met around the same time as Eli.
Demetri, who would talk to you about superheroes and binary language and would be so excited about it that you didn’t care to tell him you couldn’t understand a word of what he said.
Demetri, who was so kind as to go to your house to help you with your part on the biology project you were partnered with him in, who would offer to tutor you when you told him you had any difficulty in something he was good at, and who you got closer to after realizing you shared a lot of classes.
The third letter you ever wrote was adressed to Robby Keene, who you became closer to after ditching the homecoming dance in your freshman year to hang out by yourself at the bleachers- which apparently was Robby Keene’s favorite smoking spot, as you came to find out that night.
The whole event seemed to be proving itself to be a complete waste of time, as Demetri and eli weren’t there and Samantha LaRusso had managed to dragged Aisha to dance with her, leaving you all alone.
Apparently high school dances could be pretty lame, no matter what all high school movies from the 80's had been telling you.
You had asked if you were interrupting something and he told you it depended on whether you'd be snitching on him or not.
And suddenly freshman homecomening didn't suck anymore, because you managed to make friends with the most unlikely acquaintance you could have.
Robby, who at fourteen years old got detention for threatening to beat up the kids who made you cry out of nervousness because they kept interrupting your presentation, which was about substance abuse, ironically.
The fourth one had been written to Moon, who you used to despise because she used to hang out with Yasmine, who, for the longest time, had loved to pick on you and your friends- especially Eli and Demetri.
But Moon, who turned out to be so sweet after she started doing and saying things for herself as opposed to whatever her friends wanted her to, and started hanging out with your friend group.
Moon, who would excitedly invite you to sleep overs and braid your hair as you gossiped about people you barely knew from school, who would do your makeup for you and take you shopping and call you pet names platonically.
And, lastly, the last one had been written about Miguel Diaz, of course.
Miguel, who was your best friend in the whole world ever since he moved to Reseda and you first saw him at school.
Miguel, who was currently dating Sam. Yeah. Miguel.
But before he was Sam’s boyfriend, he was your boyfriend. Well… boy friend. A boy who was a friend. And things were good.
The two of you instantly became practically inseparable, sharing everything with each other and doing almost everything together.
But then things started changing.
Things started changing when Miguel asked Sam out and you realized you didn’t like that. And that the reason was that you were jealous. Because you were in love with him.
You didn’t know when it happened, or what was the turning point. But you were. And, thinking back, it seemed obvious.
But then they started dating, and they didn’t want you to feel left out, so they invited you and Aisha everywhere. You felt awkward being around them knowing how selfish your feelings were, as much as you really did like Sam.
And then they broke up, and things got, somehow, even weirder. Now it was you and Miguel again, and, with the whole Miyagi-Do thing going on, Sam got distant from you. And, after all that, you still had those stupid feelings for him. But you weren’t a complete bitch. You’d never make a move.
You decided to put an end to it. And so, letter number six was born. Signed, addressed, stamped and stored in the blue box. Maybe after this you’d be able to get over him, maybe after this things would get back to normal.
It seemed reasonable enough.
But a certain day came when then Eli- well, Eli, who was Hawk now, walked up to you in the middle of gym class.
“Y/n?” He called your name, and you stopped running your laps, turning around to face him, eyebrows knit together in confusion. What was Hawk doing in your gym class?
You let him walk towards you. “What’s wrong?”
“Look, I appreciate it but it’s… not gonna happen. Like you know we’re friends, and you know I'm still like… hung up on Moon, or whatever. I know the power of the hawks pretty irresistible,” he smirked, but quickly got serious again, “but you should cut it out.”
You really had no idea what the hell he could be possibly talking about. “Dude… what?”
“C’mon you don’t have to play dumb, it’s cool that you think my scar makes me look cute or whatever but like. I uh. Don’t have any feelings for you now.”
Wait, what did he say about the scar?
He kept on. “And like it’s- it’s pretty cool that you liked me before and now too but this would just- this would be weird. You know that right?”
You just weren't getting. And then you saw it. In his hand, signed, addressed and stamped, were two envelopes with two different names written on them. Fuck.
“Hey- woah are you alright? You look like you're gonna pass out.”
You felt like you could pass out. You couldn’t even form a sentence in the midst of your shock.
And then, Miguel. Because of course things had to get worse.
“There’s no fucking way,” you muttered, incredulous. He was walking up to you, a red envelope in hand. He looked confused. He obviously- understandably- wanted answers. This could not be your fucking life.
“No, no, no, oh, my god,” you looked around frantically as he got closer, trying to figure out what to do. Hawk looked confused at the way you were acting.
And then Miguel made eye contact with you and he had that fucking look of pity on his face and you panicked. And then you did the first thing that came to your short-circuiting mind, which was possibly the dumbest thing you could have done: apparently all you managed to think of was jumping Hawk, tackling him to the ground and kissing him in the middle of gym for Miguel to see.
How mature and over him you were! Wow.
The kiss was over as soon as it happened, and you pulled away as Hawk stared at you with wide eyes and shock all over his face. You could imagine getting this as a reaction to your rejection would be pretty confusing.
More important things going on. You got a glance of Miguel stopping in his tracks at the view.
“Uh. Thanks. Sorry or… whatever. I’ll see you in bio.”
You ran past Miguel, way too quickly for him to approach you, and into the closest restroom you could find, locking yourself in one of the stalls, trying breathing exercises to calm yourself down. This was it, Miguel hated you. Worse, he pitied you. Because obviously he didn't feel the same. Now your friendship was going to be weird and it was all you fau-
“Y/n? Are you in there?”
No. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening, there was no way.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” Goddamn Robby Keene.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, resting your head in your hands as you tried to convince yourself this was some sort of nightmare.
You heard a noise and opened your eyes, seeing the pink envelope being slid under the stall to you.
“I thought you’d want it back. Seemed pretty personal.”
“Robby, holy shit, I’m so sorry. You do know I wrote this like years ago right?”
He had to, right? You weren’t even close anymore.
“Yeah! Like freshman year right? When we smoked together while everyone was at the dance.” He didn't seem to be mocking you, didn't seem to be angry.
You sighed and opened the stall door, deciding facing Robby wouldn't be as bad as facing Miguel. Maybe you could do it. You walked out.
“Yeah it was- it was pretty cool. Better than whatever was going down in the dance.”
“Yeah, but the weed does hit different with the party music playing in the background. “
You could only manage to nod.
“Look I don’t know why you decided to send this but uh. I feel like I should tell you that Sam and I are like. Kinda together.”
They were? “Oh. Right! Duh. Obviously. I knew that.” You most definitely did not know that. “I didn’t mean for you to see this.”
“Look, we can still be friends. You’re pretty cool. Even with… you know…” he motioned vaguely, “the whole Cobra Kai thing”
“Okay! Yeah, definitely.” You let out a nervous laugh. “I’ll see you around?”
“Yeah.”
Jesus fuck. Okay.
. . .
You looked everywhere. Everywhere. The stupid blue box just wasn't there. You tried asking your mom about it, but her answer was short and simple. “It probably went with the Goodwill box we made last week”.
Fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck. That meant there were five people out there, five people you still saw every single day, who you were friends with, who got a fucking love letter with your name signed on it. This was hell. It had to be.
You were sure of it when you heard a knock on your front door, accompanied by Miguel’s voice calling your name.
Shit, shit, shit, you were not ready to have this conversation. Why did he have to be your next door neighbor? So you did what any sane, responsible person would do. You got out by the kitchen window. Miguel would think you just weren't home.
Again, very mature and normal and over it of you.
Now where to?
You decided someone would probably be at the dojo and the last thing you wanted right now was to accidentally encounter someone else by surprise. You figured it was too early for someone to be at the diner nearby, so there you went.
You ordered a milkshake and tried to reason with yourself. You couldn't avoid Miguel forever. He would find a way to talk to you at some point. And then what would you do? Admit you were in love with him even though to him you were just best friends? Let him tell Sam you were in love with her (well, at-the-time) boyfriend?
You were so lost in thought you didn't notice him sit beside you at the counter until he spoke up, ordering some fries.
Oh, shit.
“What are you doing here?”
“Went by your place. Miguel said you weren't there. Things were preetty awkward. You weren't at the dojo either so I thought I’d find you here.”
“Okay. And why did you wanna find me?”
“Look I just wanna make it double really clear that nothing’s gonna happen between us.”
“Eli Moskowitz I am not trying to date you.”
He seemed to cringe at his own name, but didn’t complain out loud about it. “Then why would you write me a love letter?”
“It was 7th grade!”
“No you talk about me as Hawk though.”
“Last year! Right when you did… that,” you motioned vaguely to his mohawk.
“Okay I hear you but like. Your mouth is saying one thing… but then your mouth said… something… else. To my mouth.”
“What? Ew!”
“You jumped me!”
“I was panicking! I’m like actually sorry.”
“Then why’d you do it?”
“Cause Miguel was walking over.”
“And?”
You sighed. “And he also got one of those,” you pointed at the letter in Hawk’s hand, “and I cannot deal with that right now.”
His expression shifted. “Wait, I’m not the only one who got a letter?”
“No.”
“Huh. You really think you’re special.”
“Are you not surprised about Miguel?’
“Oh, no, it was pretty obvious. But damn you get a love letter and think you’re the man but then you find out she wrote to another guy too?”
“Oh there’s six of them, so don’t go feeling too special.”
“Six of them?”
You then realize you’d spoken too much.
“Nevermind.”
“Damn y/n fuck yeah, you're a player! Who were they for?”
“No one! It’s none of your business.”
“Come on I deserve to know! You did kinda jump me in front of a bunch of people.”
“It doesn’t matter!”
“I mean I wouldn't- I wouldn't want people to find out you think my scar looks hot. Or that when you look at me you think about ‘kissing the annoying smirk off my lips’- I mean who knows what guarantees you don’t have a tattoo of my face on your ass-”
This was embarrassing enough. “Okay shut up! Shut up. Fine, if you wanna know so bad. So two for you. Then uh. Demetri, in-”
“You had a crush on Demetri?”
You kept on. “Then Robby Keene, on freshman year.”
“What, do you have a thing for LaRusso’s boyfriends or…?”
“How did you know they were together? I didn’t know!”
He just shrugged, and you continued. “And then there was uh-” you glanced at him and back to your milkshake. “Moon, after she uh. Started dating you, and hanging out with us.”
He let out a snort. “Right.”
“Sorry. I uh- I know she broke up with you-”
“What, are you gonna make a move on her? Is this what you have a thing for, crushing on your friends’ partners?”
“You asked me about it!”
He looked sorry. He didn’t say it. He sighed. “Fine. Is that everyone?”
“With Miguel, yeah, that’s everyone.”
“Okay. I was the only one to get two letters though.”
You rolled your eyes at the comment.
You two ate in silence for a couple minutes before he spoke up. “Did you walk here?”
“Yeah.”
“You want a ride?”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s fine.”
“Okay.” He ate his fries as you finished your milkshake, and got on his motorbike. Holding onto his waist the whole time after all this was definitely weird but you didn’t let yourself think about it too much, instead thinking about another one of your problems: you really, really hoped Miguel wouldn’t be there when you got home.
You got to the parking lot, getting off the bike, taking off the helmet and handing it back to him. “How do you even put this on with your hair?”
He laughed. “I just like. Push it back.”
“But how does it not ruin it?”
He shrugged. “Power of the Hawk.” He smirked.
“Oh come on. I bet you walk around with a little bottle of hair gel so you can fix it after you take it off.”
“Magician never reveals his secrets-” he looked off at something behind you. You frowned im confusion, turning around to see what it was. Miguel. He hadn't noticed your presence yet, but there was no way he wasn’t going to.
What do you do now?
Hawk seemed to think of something before you. He placed his helmet in the handle of the bike, making sure to make noise with it, and leaned in, pulling you into a kiss. A… rather passionate one.
He pulled away, and started leading you in the direction of your front door. You got the sign, walking to your place without turning around, and unlocking the door. He pushed you in and closed the door with his foot, loudly. You stayed like that, him leaning on the door and with your bodies flushed together, in silence, trying to listen if Miguel was walking towards your door or not. After a couple seconds, you figured he was not, and you pulled away farther from him, walking into the house.
“Sorry. First thing that came to mind.”
“Why is jumping each other the first thing that we think of when we panic?”
Hawk laughed. “You did it first.”
You sat down on your couch, but he stayed standing. “Sorry to pull you into this. Think I’ll just pity myself ‘till I sleep and then die of embarrassment tomorrow when I see him or something. You can go if you want.”
“Yeah, I think I’ll- yeah.” He started walking to the door, but stopped midway, turning around to face you again. “Hey what if-” he tried to find the words to explain you his idea- “um- he probably thinks we’re dating right? Or at least hooking up. I mean, after all the kissing and stuff.”
“Shit. Yeah. I’ll clear things up, sorry-”
“No! What if- what if we let him?”
“What… do you mean?”
“What if we let him think we’re dating? And not just him.”
“Why would we do that?”
“So he won’t think you're in love with him!”
“And why would you do that?”
“I mean you know- you know I’m still really into Moon. Maybe we could make her… want what she can’t get?”
“You think that would work?”
He just shrugged.
“So you’re suggesting we fake-date.”
“I guess.”
“Have you never seen a movie with a fake dating trope? Doesn't end well.”
“What, you think you’ll catch feelings?” He opened his signature grin, and you sighed.
“I’m just saying it’s probably gonna blow up on our face eventually.”
“Why? We can just pretend to date for like a couple weeks. And then we break up or whatever.”
“I’m not-” This could not be a good idea. Could it? “Look I’ll- I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to you at school.”
He just nodded before wordlessly exiting your place.
. . .
Miguel, Miguel, Miguel. Miguel seemed to be what occupied your thoughts the most. No matter how absurd the amount of drama you were going through was, your thoughts always came back to Miguel. Yes, sure, you could argue it was simply because he was your best friend, but also… yeah, because you couldn't stop thinking about your feelings for him.
But the night after the letters got out… it wasn't like that. Eli Moskowitz- well, Hawk, hadn’t been in your head a lot ever since you got over the last crush you had on him. But after all that happened, Miguel wasn't the only one in your head anymore. As weird annd twisted of a way as everything else had come into your thoughts.
So you decided.