Chapter Text
A few weeks have passed. Jai expects everything to be exactly as it always was, but it isn’t.
Pik isn’t waiting around for him like he always used to, before classes, in between classes, after classes, Pik was always waiting for him. Now? He can barely catch a glimpse of Pik at these times. Pik was always busy. Too busy to see Jai. When he was free, he would be going out. Without Jai. He would be laughing, but not with Jai, with other people. When his phone lit up with a message, Pik would answer immediately. He used to ignore others just to focus on Jai alone. He would excuse himself mid conversation just because someone else wanted him.
At first Jai barely noticed. People got busy, assignments piled up, friends made plans. It happened. But then it happened again. And again.
Eventually Jai realised he had started instinctively looking around every morning, expecting to spot Pik leaning against the wall outside their classroom, scrolling through his phone while waiting. Everyday Jai was met with an empty space.
The first few mornings he texted.
“Where are you?”
“Already here?”
“Did you oversleep?”
The replies came eventually.
“Already inside.”
“In the library.”
“Getting breakfast.”
Always somewhere else. Never waiting.
Jai couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually waited for Pik. It had always been the other way around. Pik waiting outside classrooms. Waiting after lectures. Waiting at the bus stop. waiting because Jai was talking to someone else. Back then, Jai had never thought twice about it. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The strangest part was that Jai still caught himself looking anyway. Even when he’d already read Pik’s message saying he was in the library, his eyes would still flick automatically to the familiar spot outside the classroom. Just in case. He wasn’t even conscious of doing it anymore. It had become a habit years ago. Pik would always be there. Sometimes leaning against the wall with headphones on. Sometimes sitting on the floor because he had arrived too early. Sometime pretending to be interested in whatever was on his phone until Jai appeared, at which point he would have immediately put it away.
Now Jai realised something he never had before. Pik hadn’t been waiting for him because he had nowhere else to be. He’d been waiting because he’d wanted to spend those extra few minutes with him. Back then Jai never questioned it. He’d simply accepted it as another constant in his life, like the morning bus or the timetable pinned outside the classroom.
Now that constant was gone.
Jai found himself walking a little slower between classes, almost expecting Pik to catch up beside him like he always used to. He never did. Instead, Jai would occasionally spot him halfway down another corridor. Surrounded by people. Talking. Smiling. Living a life Jai somehow wasn’t a part of anymore.
It wasn’t just Jai who noticed. One afternoon, someone from their class glanced around before asking, “Where’s Pik?”
Jai looked up automatically, almost expecting him to appear beside him.
“…Not sure.”
The classmate frowned. “Huh. Thought he’d be with you.”
Jai forced a laugh. “Guess not.”
The conversation moved on almost immediately.
Jai didn’t.
For years, people had treated them like a pair. If someone found one of them, they assumed the other wasn’t far behind. Apparently, that wasn’t true anymore. People were starting to notice before he was ready to admit it.
Sometimes Jai would catch Pik’s eye across the campus. For a split second everything would feel familiar. Pik would smile. Jai would smile back. Then someone beside Pik would say something, and Pik would laugh before turning back to the conversation. That was it. No wave for Jai to come over. No excuse to leave the group. No “Give me a second.” The interaction ended almost as quickly as it had begun.
Jai would keep walking, telling himself that was perfectly normal. Friends didn’t have to spend every second together. So why did it feel like he had been just left behind?
It wasn’t malicious. It was normal for Pik to act like this with others. Never with Jai. Not until now. That was the strange part. Pik hadn’t become colder. If anything, he’d become warmer. The quiet boy who used to hide behind Jai in crowded rooms was slowly coming out of his shell. He laughed more now. Not loudly, not enough to become the centre of attention, but enough that people naturally gravitated towards him. He stayed after class to chat instead of slipping away. He joined conversations instead of quietly standing beside someone else. When someone invited him somewhere, he said yes.
They weren’t new people. Jai recognised almost all of them. Classmates who had spent months asking Pik to come with them after lectures. People who had invited him out for coffee, group study sessions, birthdays, late night food runs. Pik had almost always smiled apologetically before saying he already had plans. Except Jai realised now…those plans had almost always been him. Now Pik was simply saying yes to all the invitations he had been turning down all along.
Jai had spent years teasing Pik for being shy. Encouraging him to talk to people, telling him he was more interesting than he gave himself credit for.
Deep down, Pik had always admired how effortlessly Jai could make friends. Jai could walk into any room and somehow leave knowing everyone’s name. Pik had always wished he could be a little more like that – not the flirting, not the endless admires, just comfortable around people. Comfortable enough to belong without clinging to one person. Maybe this version of Pik existed because of Jai. Maybe Jai had unknowingly taught him how to stop hiding. The cruel irony was that the more Pik grew into that person, the less he seemed to need Jai.
It should have made Jai happy. He had wanted this for Pik. He remembered every conversation where he had encouraged him to talk more, to join clubs, to stop saying no every time someone invited him somewhere. He had joked that one day Pik would have so many friends he would forget all about him. Pik looked horrified. “That’ll never happen,” Jai had laughed. At the time, he believed him.
Jai doesn’t stop trying. He makes many and many attempts to spend time with Pik…mostly unsuccessful ones.
“Want to grab some food together after school?”
“Oh sorry, already promised someone else.”
Jai blinked.
“Tomorrow?”
Pik though for a second before shaking his head.
“Group project.”
“Friday?”
“I’m going out.”
“Saturday?”
“Helping someone move.”
Every answer was genuine. Every reason believable. There wasn’t an excuse jai could argue with. That made it worse.
When Jai sends a funny message, he waits hours for a reply.
“Sorry, I only just read this.”
Not only does Pik take hours to reply, but he also doesn’t even laugh or play along with the joke.
Sometimes Jai could see Pik online. Sometimes he’d even watch the little “typing…” bubble appear before disappearing again.
Eventually a simple reaction would arrive. A thumbs up emoji or just “lol”.
No teasing. No back and forth that somehow lasted until two in the morning.
Jai found himself scrolling back through months of old conversations one evening. Walls of messages. Photos. Voice notes. Pik sending five texts in a row because Jai hadn’t answered for ten minutes. Now Jai was the one staring at his phone, wondering if he’d sent too many messages already.
Jai walks into Pik's room without knocking.
Pik immediately closes his laptop. Not because he's hiding anything.
Just because...
boundaries.
Jai notices.
The movement was almost instinctive. Pik looked up, smiled politely when he realised it was Jai, then relaxed again.
“Sorry,” Jai laughed awkwardly. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”
“It’s okay.”
But Pik still reached over and locked his screen before fully turning towards him. Not out of secrecy. Out of habit. Out of privacy. Jai had never considered that Pik might want those things from him.
He suddenly realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he knocked or asked Pik if he was busy before walking in. for years, he’d simply assumed he was welcome. Now he wasn’t so sure.
When Jai told Pik a funny story, Pik would only give a polite laugh. It wasn’t the genuine laugh, where Pik would snort. Jai had always loved making Pik laugh like that.
Now Jai only heard that laugh when other made Pik laugh.
Once, Jai heard it from the other side of campus. That loud, uncontrollable snort followed by Pik trying, and failing, to stop laughing. It was so familiar that Jai smiled before he even realised what he’d heard.
He followed the sound almost automatically.
When he turned the corner, Pik was doubled over beside a group of friends, face red from laughing so hard. Someone nudged him and he completely lost it. Jai stood there for a second, waiting for Pik to notice him, to wave him over, to share the joke like he always would have. Instead, Pik never looked up.
Jai quietly turned around and walked away before anyone saw him standing there. It shouldn’t have bothered him. Pik was allowed to have other friends. He’d always encourage that. So why did it feel like he’d just watched someone else borrow something that had always belonged to him?
It wasn’t the laugh. It was knowing he wasn’t the reason for it anymore.
Little things kept happening. Jai would reach for the seat beside Pik in class, only for someone else to get there first. Pik would smile at them and have a conversation with them. Jai ended up sitting somewhere else. No one had done anything wrong. No one had stolen his place. There simply wasn't one anymore.
The little things started disappearing too. Jai forgot his charger one afternoon. Without thinking, he turned towards Pik. Only to remember halfway through that Pik wasn’t carrying one for him anymore.
Another day he complained that he had skipped breakfast. The words barely left his mouth before he found himself waiting. Waiting for Pik to sigh dramatically before pulling a snack out of his bag like he always used to.
Nothing happened.
Pik simply nodded sympathetically before carrying on with his conversation.
Jai realised then that none of those things had ever just happened. Pik had chosen to look after him. Every single day. Jai had never thanked him for most of it.
Another day, Jai found a café he’d been wanting to try and immediately pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered over Pik’s name. he hesitated. What if he was busy? The thought stopped him. When had he started wondering that? Before, he never needed to ask himself. Pik always made time. Now Jai wasn’t sure if he’d just become another person asking for a piece of Pik’s day.
He almost asked if something was wrong more times than he could count. Every opportunity seemed perfect. Walking home. Between lectures. Waiting outside classrooms. But every time he looked at Pik, he was smiling. Not the same smile as before, but not an unhappy one either. What if nothing was wrong? What if this wasn’t distance? What if this was simply what happened when two people grew up? The possibility terrified him enough to stay quiet.
One afternoon, they happened to leave class at exactly the same time. For a brief second, everything felt normal. They walked side by side to the exit. Comfortable silence between them.
Jai smiled to himself. Maybe this was it. Maybe this time things were finally going back to normal. Then someone’s voice called out behind them.
“Pik!”
Pik turned immediately. His face lit up.
“I’ll catch you later,” he said with an apologetic smile before jogging over to the other group.
Jai watched him disappear into the crown. He stood there for another few seconds before continuing towards home alone. He couldn’t even remember what he had been about to say.
Maybe this was the moment. Maybe he should stop pretending everything was normal and just tell Pik the truth. Tell him he’d been an idiot. Tell him he’d finally realised. Tell him he loved him. The words came easily inside his own head. But every time he imagined saying them out loud, he pictured Pik giving him that same gentle smile before saying he had already moved on. The thought hollowed him out. If he stayed silent, there was still hope. If he confessed, he might even loose that.
By the end of the week, Jai stopped expecting Pik to be there.
And somehow…
…that hurt more than waiting.