Chapter Text
Flo was born to be the center of everyone’s attention. It wasn’t anything obvious. He wasn’t the loudest child in the playroom or the brightest star in a school performance. He wasn't the most talkative nor the quietest, it's just that there was simply, something magnetic about him. Always had been.
In kindergarten, while the other kids scrambled to impress with their messy paintings or silly songs, Flo could sit in the corner building a tower of blocks, and every eye would drift toward him. He could make even the simplest stories sound like grand adventures.
By middle school, Flo’s reputation had solidified into something of a ‘legend’. Teachers couldn’t decide if he was a troublemaker or a prodigy, he seemed to breeze through lessons with minimal effort, yet his answers were always sharp and insightful. He was never the most outgoing student, his presence just carried a lot of weight.
By high school, Flo had become the gravitational force around which every hallway seemed to orbit. He didn’t run for class president or dominate on the sports field, he didn’t need to. He could stand at the end of a room, doing nothing, and somehow still outshine everyone else. His charisma was effortless, a quiet, smoldering kind that made people seek him out without knowing why. Teachers trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, and his peers envied him but couldn’t bring themselves to resent him. Even those who claimed not to care about him found their eyes looking his way during assemblies, wondering what it was about the boy that made him seem untouchable.
Flo never chased the spotlight, but it followed him anyway, like he was born under a star that no one else could see but everyone wanted to bask in.
Everyone but not Jamal, who was everything Flo wasn’t. An outcast. Where Flo moved through life as if it were tailored for him, Jamal stumbled awkwardly at every turn. He was the kid who always seemed to sit too far away from the group, trying to blend in but never succeeding. His voice cracked when he spoke, so he rarely did.
But Jamal noticed everything. He saw the way Flo’s charisma worked, how even the smallest movement seemed to command attention. Jamal hated himself for watching, for caring, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t just envy, it was fascination. How could someone glide through life with such ease when every step Jamal took felt like it spawned against him?
There were moments, brief and fleeting, when Flo’s eyes would land on Jamal, and for a second, Jamal would feel as if he might dissolve under its weight. It wasn’t unkind, nor was it particularly warm. It was simply curious, like Flo was trying to solve a puzzle that didn’t interest him enough to pursue. Those moments infuriated Jamal the most. Flo didn’t need to know him, didn’t need to try, really.
Or maybe it was his mind making it all up. They were neighbors, went to the same kindergarten, were in the same class in middle school and Flo even dated Jamal’s best friend during the first two years of high school. So yeah, it was kind of impossible to ignore the existence of the other.
But they never actually talked. And so Jamal lingered in the shadows, always observing, always wondering if there was a piece of Flo’s magic that might someday rub off on him or if he was destined to remain invisible in a world that only had eyes for someone else.
“…Jamal? Do you even miss me? Just don’t answer the phone next time I call if you are going to dissociate all the time!” Leah snapped all of a sudden and he put an end to his dramatic thoughts.
She was right, he was not listening at all. But he did miss her.
“No Leah, Florian does not have a new girlfriend.”
Though he knew exactly what she was talking about, it is always the same topic: Did Flo really dye his hair silver? Is Flo dating? How many girls did you see giving him chocolate during Valentine? Which university is he going to apply to? Does he have a new girlfriend yet?
Leah and Jamal had been best friends since they were 4, always platonic on her side but not on Jamal’s. There was a point in his life where he would even pray she fights with her boyfriend (ex now) just so she could run back to him and find comfort in playing online chess together (it lasted only a couple of hours, somehow she would always ‘unconsciously’ open Flo’s chat and her fingers would again ‘unconsciously ’ tap an apology).
“If only you guys had become friends back when we were kids now I would have had a more trustful source but both of you suck at socializing.” She rolled her eyes with a long sigh and Jamal smiled. She did not really mean that, well most of it. He really did suck at socializing. “Maybe I should really move on.” She wasn’t looking at the camera anymore, her eyes were focused somewhere far away and her voice was so low Jamal swears he would have missed it if his room wasn’t dead silent.
His heart ached a little but he was used to it.
“Did they ran out of good looking boys in Canada?”
(Actually he doubted ‘good looking’ boys are her type. Flo’s not even that good.)
“Jaamaaal, you just don’t get it! She whined and now it was his turn to roll the eyes. “Can you at least do me a favor and give him his birthday gift? I already sent it to your address, was kinda afraid he would reject it if I sent it to him instead.”
“And what makes you think he won’t reject it through me?”
“He won’t. He is too shy to do that.” Jamal let out a scoff in disbelief but did not push further. Honestly he just wanted that topic to end. It was a thing hearing about him when they were still together but even separated, it’s was impossible to escape Flo and it had started to irritate him.
The facetime ended with Jamal promising her that the gift deal will be done as soon as he gets it.
“Just throw it and act like you never received it.” Jamal kept repeating in his mind but he knew he would never break a promise to her.
Or so he thought.
**
Flo’s birthday party was exactly what Jamal expected: loud, glamorous, and packed with people who, different from him, seemed like they belonged there. The house was lit up, blasting music and laughter out into the night. Jamal idled on the sidewalk for a moment, clutching the small, carefully wrapped gift that had become the cause of his nightmares the last week .Then he slipped inside unnoticed, which wasn’t hard.
The place was chaos. People dancing, drinks spilling, conversations overlapping in a way that made it impossible to hear your own thoughts. Jamal moved through the crowd like a ghost, avoiding eye contact, avoiding Flo, until he finally spotted him near the back of the living room. Flo was, as always, the center of it all. Jamal hesitated, his fingers tightening around the gift, when Flo’s sharp gaze suddenly locked on him. He raised his eyebrow in slight surprise for a moment and then it was gone, the blonde guy’s attention went back to the girl sitting next to him and they were back to chatting.
Jamal did not even notice he was holding his breath. Was the other really awed to see him there or he just did not care?
Sigh. Flo probably dislikes him too and to be honest, he wasn’t even invited to be there.
Mentally slapping himself, Jamal went to the kitchen to get a drink and continue being invisible. But one drink turned into three and he started to feel dizzy. It was still okay, calmer than it was thirty minutes ago and his hands weren’t sweating anymore. He even humored the idea of going out there to dance but that would have been too out of character and the world was not ending, yet.
He also came up with a new plan: go to Flo’s room and leave the gift there and then get out and ignore him forever.
His job was just to deliver the box, right? Why was he stressing so much?
Feeling lighter, Jamal took a drink with him and headed to the stairs. Flo’s house was huge, his family was big so that explained the large number of rooms (most of which were locked) but also made it more difficult for Jamal to find the right one.
Finally, after interrupting the making out session of a lesbian couple while opening the door of a room he had no idea was the bathroom and then leaving with an awkward apology, he found Flo’s.
The walls were painted a muted charcoal gray, a color that seemed to shift with the light, and dotted with an diverse mix of posters, Polaroids (he noticed Leah in some of them), and artwork that somehow managed to look intentional despite their haphazard arrangement.
A small shelf by the bed held a scattering of books, mostly novels with frayed spines, and a vinyl record player sat on a low table, its surrounding stack of records.
The bed, unmade, was a tangle of dark sheets and a single blanket that looked like it had been tossed there in haste. A guitar leaned against one corner, its strings faintly worn, and an old-school film camera rested on the desk beside an overflowing ashtray, despite Flo never seeming to smoke.
The faint smell of cedar and something sharper, like cologne, the cluster of bracelets and rings scattered across the desk, the single, wilted flower pressed inside a glass frame on the windowsill, everything seemed to reflect Flo’s alluring personality.
Jamal felt like an intruder, as if the walls themselves might recognize him as someone who didn’t belong there.
His eyes stayed a little bit longer on the flower and then his best friend’s words came back to him.
“Jamal you don’t understand.”
He sighed. The drink was already over and he needed another one, lots of it but at least it was quieter than downstairs, a cold breeze came from the opened window and somehow he felt all the tension leave his body.
Back to finish his plan, Jamal thought of leaving the gift next to the vinyl after taking some time to decide on the most noticeable place he could have put it.
He did not have to think that hard.
Luck had reserved other plans for him.
Soon, the door swung open behind, and there, the owner stood, silhouetted in the dark light from the hallway.
Flo.
Jamal felt his heartbeat quicken, felt his mind start racing and it was weird because after years of spying on his neighbor, he never thought they would face each other like that. There was a time when he really thought that they could have been close. A long time ago, when Leah wasn’t the bridge between them, and he hadn’t yet begun to envy being loved the way she was.
Flo’s expression was unreadable, his hazel eyes flicking from Jamal to the room and back again.
“Hey” he said finally, his voice low, tinged with amusement, “wasn’t expecting you here.” He stepped inside, closing the door and leaning casually against it, as if trapping Jamal there on purpose.
“I...uh...sorry,” the other stammered. “I didn’t mean to—I” he was looking anywhere but at him, embarrassed. He felt like a stalker.
“I saw you downstairs.” The usual confidence his friend’s ex wore wavered for a moment and now he was looking down, making it easier for Jamal to avoid eye contact. He was a little grateful for that. “You don’t like attending parties though.”
“You don’t know that.”
Flo let out a soft chuckle at how defensively his reply sounded. It was frustrating, really. But Jamal suddenly did not have it in him to mind. He was intrigued.
“Don’t I?” Flo asked, lifting his gaze just enough to study his expression. “You’ve got that look, you know. Like you’d rather be anywhere else but here.”
“Maybe I’m just better at blending in than you think.” He lied, gripped the gift tighter in his hands. His answer even surprised himself but if Flo was right in front of him acting like a mr-know-it-all after years of lost opportunities to befriend each other and even stealing his best friend from him, Jamal might’ve just shot back with words the other did not even expect.
“You? Blend in? Sure, Jamal.” Flo almost laughed again at that.
He pushed off the door and crossed the room with that same effortless stride, stopping only a few feet away, his head tilted slightly.
“But you’re wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Jamal asked, unsure if he wanted the answer. Unsure of how the conversation between them was flowing so fast, too.
The birthday boy hesitated, his confidence faltering again for just a heartbeat before he continued.
“I do know you. More than you think I do.”
Jamal blinked. Florian did not look like he was joking, the teasing color in his voice had long disappeared now. It made Jamal feel so exposed, at the same time, so curios to know more. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Flo smiled knowingly, “you’re not the type to show up at a party like this unless you have a reason. So, what is it?” His eyes flicked to the box in his hands. “Or maybe who is it?”
Jamal swallowed hard, his throat dry. He could lie, deflect, but the weight of Flo’s stare made it feel impossible. He looked down at the gift, suddenly hyperaware of how small and out of place it seemed in his hands. “It’s… for you,” he admitted reluctantly. “From Leah. She asked me to bring it.”
At the mention of her name, something shifted in his expression. Hurt? Nostalgia? It was gone too quickly to tell and Leah seemed to have taken them both back to their usual pattern, back to reality where conversations flowing easily, teasing, did not exist.
Then, Flo nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving the gift. And Jamal took a step forward, breaking free from the paralyzing effect of his eyes and held the box out, eager to hand it over and leave that room, leave that conversation.
But Flo didn’t take it. Instead, he looked back up at Jamal, still stuck in his thoughts.
Was he still not over her?
“You could’ve just left it downstairs,” He said after a long pause.
“Yeah, I could’ve,” Jamal replied, meeting his eyes for the first time.
He looked disappointed.
There was a temporary halt between them, the air heavy, and awkward, and tense.
The usual Leah impact.
Flo let his eyes fall somewhere past Jamal and his lips twitched into a faint smile, not the polished one he wore at parties. It looked genuine.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the box from his hands.
He didn’t seem thankful.
Jamal nodded, not knowing what else to say and turned toward the door.
This was a bad idea afterall, wasn’t it? He should have just thrown the gift.
Flo never liked him.
But before he could leave, the latter spoke again.
“Hey, Jamal.”
And Jamal stopped, glancing back over his shoulder.
“You don’t have to blend in here, you know…Not with me.”
Jamal’s breath hitched but he didn’t respond. He nodded again and slipped out the door, leaving Flo standing there, holding a gift he suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to open.