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“Okay, okay, what do you think about starting the video with this clip instead?” Anthony said, seated at his desk in the Goffice, turning his monitor towards Hanbon, who was sitting at her desk, next to him.
“I think either of the clips will be funny, Anthony,” said Hanbon, slightly exasperated, “you need to relax about this video.”
“I just want it to be perfect,” Anthony replied, “it has to be perfect, it has to.”
“Anthony, look at me,” Hanbon said, turning her chair to face Anthony’s glasses-clad face, “Nothing is ever perfect, and you know the video will actually do better if it doesn’t have professional-level production quality.”
It was well after three in the morning; Coy and Will had long since gone to bed. Anthony and Hanbon were the only two left in the Goffice, up late finishing edits on a video Hanbon was selected to edit.
Anthony turned to face Hanbon, his features softening as she spoke; all he could think about was how soft she looked in her pink hoodie and sweats.
“I know, I’ve just been really stressed this week,” he said, pausing to run his fingers through his hair.
“My phone has been ringing nonstop, meetings every five seconds, and I have like five more videos to look over for other people, and I haven’t been sleeping, and I just want to be able to take one breath without having to worry about dealing with some other issue. It feels like everything is just on me, and I’m letting everyone I love down, and I’m just doubting if I can do this or not,” he broke off, his breath coming out in short bursts.
“Hey, hey, breathe, you’re hyperventilating,” Hanbon said, moving to pull Anthony towards her.
“I just can’t do it, Bon. You’re so amazing, and I’m letting you down,” Anthony let out a sob and began to sink out of his chair. “I can’t even choose an opening for Bunch of Friends; how am I supposed to do anything else for any of these people? I’m a fraud, Bon.”
“Anthony, you are the most talented person I know,” Hanbon said steadily, following Anthony’s sweaty figure down to the floor, “I need you to breathe with me, okay?”
“Bon, you don’t understand, Bon,” he cried, “I’m so directionless and stupid, I don’t understand why any of you stick around, I don’t deserve it.”
“Anthony, listen to me,” Hanbon said slowly, wrapping an arm around Anthony to ground herself, “We all love you no matter what, okay? Now I need you to breathe with me, okay? In and out, in and out, slow and steady”
Anthony took a gasping breath, tucking his head down in between their bodies, “Bon, I can’t breathe, Bon, please, Bon.”
“It’s okay, Ant,” Hanbon replied calmly, “just focus on breathing; it doesn't have to be perfect.”
“It does though, Bon,” Anthony said desperately, “everything has to be perfect or else, or else, I’m worthless.”
“Okay, Ant, let’s try something else,” said Hanbon, beginning to stroke the back of Anthony’s head, “Remember the technique you told me about in college? The one that your therapist recommended to use when you’d spiral like this? The five, four, three, two, one count. Can we do that?”
“Okay,” Anthony said, barely registering what Hanbon had suggested.
“Okay, good, so can you tell me five things you can see right now?” Hanbon asked.
“Hmm,” Anthony said, looking around the room groggily, chest still moving unevenly.
“Remember,” Hanbon told him, “it doesn’t matter what the things are, any five things are good enough.”
“Okay, um, I see you, Hanbon. I see your eyes; they’re brown. I can see the drawings on the whiteboard, um, that’s three things; I can see your desk chair, and I can also see Shirley lying on the floor over there.”
“Good, that was really good, Anthony,” Hanbon reassured, rubbing her hand down Anthony’s back, “now we’ve got four things you can touch.”
Anthony stared back at her. “I can touch your hoodie; it’s really soft. I can touch the floor; it’s too cold. Your hair, I can touch that; it’s really soft too. I can touch my hair; you’re touching my hair; it’s not as soft as yours,” he said quietly, tone almost back to neutral.
“There are way more things you can touch than just me, but okay,” said Hanbon
Anthony just smiled, replying, “Why would I want to touch those things when I can touch you, Hanbon?”
“Okay, Anthony, I think this is working,” Hanbon decided, “but let’s finish it out. We aren’t quitters.”
“No, we aren’t!”
“Give me three things you can hear, Anthony,” requested Hanbon.
“Three things I can hear, um, well, I can hear the sound of my own voice, love that one. I can hear a car driving by outside, and I can barely hear the fan from the PC behind us. There you go.” Anthony said, satisfied.
“Good job, Ant,” Hanbon smiled. “Two things you can smell, almost there.”
“Well, I can smell the musty garage smell of the Goffice, but that’s no fun,” Anthony said, leaning down and putting his nose next to Hanbon’s neck, “Mmmmm, but I can also smell your perfume.”
“Oh yeah?” Hanbon laughed, cheeks slightly heating at his proximity. “What does it smell like?
“Like flowers, and sugar, and you,” Anthony drawled, a dopey smile emerging on his face, “it reminds me of being safe and loved and comforted, like how I feel right now.”
“Awww, Anthony,” cooed Hanbon, “you’re so sweet when you’re coming down from a panic attack.”
“Shut up, I’m fine,” replied Anthony, turning away from Hanbon on the Goffice floor. “I’m never sharing my feelings again.”
“Anthony, that’s not fair," said Hanbon, tugging on Anthony’s hoodie sleeve to pull him closer.
“Whatever, just give me the last one,” said Anthony begrudgingly, “ha, get it, last one, cause it’s number one.”
“You’re the least funny person I’ve ever met,” said Hanbon, pressing her leg against Anthony’s.
“You know that’s not true; take that back,” replied Anthony.
“Fine, you’re probably one of the funniest people I’ve ever met,” Hanbon said, rolling her eyes.
Anthony scoffed, pushing further towards her, “I’ll take what I can get, I guess.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hanbon teased, “One thing you can taste. Last one, better be a good one; I have no idea what the last thing you ate even was.”
Anthony stared back at her, his bright blue eyes meeting her brown ones in the dim, late-night Goffice lighting. “I have no idea what I last ate either. What can I taste right now?”
Before Hanbon could say anything, Anthony’s hand was grasping her cheek. She stayed frozen as he leaned in, closing her eyes at the feeling of his lips slotting against hers. The kiss was soft; their lips fit perfectly together. Anthony lingered in her space as he pulled away, mouth slightly ajar, like not even he could believe what he just did.
“Anthony, what the fuck,” Hanbon exclaimed after she finally unfroze, “you cannot just have a panic attack and then kiss me. That’s, like, horrible timing!”
“Dude, I’m literally fine,” said Anthony, still only a few inches from Hanbon’s face, hand moving down to grasp her shoulder.
“Okay, you actually can’t call me dude after kissing me on the lips,” Hanbon replied, but continued to stare openly at Anthony’s lips.
Anthony scoffed, “But dude,” he said, drawing out the last word.
“Anthony, I’m serious.”
“Okay, Hanbon, Hannah, Hanbon Cinnabon, Hannah Bon, Hannah Bondalo,” Anthony continued, placing both hands on Hanbon’s cheeks.
“This is not a marriage proposal, Anthony,” Hanbon said dryly, “spit it out.”
“Dude, I just, you are just my favorite person in the whole world, and what you just did proves that even more,” Anthony started, “you can calm me down when no one else can, you are my voice of reason, and you’re just so smart and so funny and so beautiful, and I always feel like I don’t deserve you, and, and, you just, always just make me feel better, Hanbon.”
Hanbon just stared back at him and pulled him into her arms.
“Anthony, you’re my favorite person in the whole world too,” she said, voice muffled by Anthony’s hair.
Pulling back, Hanbon placed her hands on Anthony’s cheeks, mirroring his earlier position. They just stared at each other for a moment, Anthony’s mouth slightly open, still in awe of the situation he created. Hanbon returned her mouth to his, allowing her lips to slot in between Anthony’s open ones.
Hanbon dug her fingers into Anthony’s hair, not deepening their kiss, just exploring new territory, even if she platonically touched his hair all the time. Anthony was completely at her mercy, putting his hands around her waist, and allowing Hanbon to take the lead and pull herself up into his lap.
“Fuck, Anthony,” Hanbon said, out of breath, but continuing to plant kisses on Anthony’s lips, “it’s, like, really late.”
“Bon, that is like the least of my worries right now,” Anthony replied, staring back at his best friend of five years who was now sitting in his lap with her hands in his hair.
“Well, you can worry in the morning,” Hanbon said happily. “Let me sleep over?”
“You know you’re always welcome here, Bon; you literally used to live here.”
“But let me sleep in your bed?” Hanbon giggled.
Anthony just looked back at her, “Bon, that is also literally nothing new.”
“Hmm, maybe we should’ve been making out all this time then,” Hanbon sighed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Anthony just laughed and began to stand up, made difficult by the fact that Hanbon was still in his lap.
“Carry me upstairs,” Hanbon whined.
“Fine, but you can’t be mad if I drop you,” said Anthony, “I’ve been under emotional duress.”
Anthony continued to stand, pulling Hanbon up with him, and tucking her against his front. He carried her to the Goffice door and up the stairs with her arms wrapped around his shoulders and head tucked into his neck, instead of the usual style he carried her in, in their YouTube videos. Hanbon closed her eyes and let the feeling of safe arms around her take her away.
As he approached the door to their kitchen, all Anthony could hope for was that none of his other roommates were still up. Of course, after all the good that had happened to him that night, none of his other hopes could be granted. As he quietly opened the door, he cringled at the sight of a pajama-clad, half-awake Coy Piso standing over the sink with a half-full glass of water in his hand.
Coy turned to look at the noise of the door opening, and before he could say anything about the precarious position two of his best friends were in, Anthony lifted his finger to his mouth, turning and pointing down at a sleeping Hanbon. Coy just looked at Anthony for a few seconds, unimpressed, and walked back to his room silently.
Anthony followed Coy down the hallway to his own room. Opening the door carefully, he deposited a half-awake Hanbon into his messily made bed.
“Mmm, was that Coy in the kitchen?” Hanbon murmured, turning to cuddle deeper under Anthony’s comforter.
“Yeah, but it’s okay, go to sleep, Bon,” Anthony replied, getting into the other side of the bed.
“Okay, g’night, Anthony,” Hanbon said, wrapping her arms around him and speaking into his chest, “you’re my best friend in the whole world.”
“Goodnight, Bon,” said Anthony, placing a kiss on the top of her head, “you’re my best friend in the whole world too.”