11

The wind rustled through the trees, the only sound breaking the otherwise suffocating silence. Miller's Pond wasn't exactly where I'd imagined spending my Thursday night, but then again, Mila had a way of making me do things I'd normally scoff at. I leaned against the old oak, the rough bark digging into my back as I watched the water ripple under the dimming sky. The air smelled like damp earth and leaves, the kind of scent that made you nostalgic for things you never actually experienced.

Seven had come and gone, and Mila was nowhere in sight. Typical. I ran a hand through my hair, already tired of waiting, already annoyed. Why did she have to pick this place? A spot that practically reeked of melancholy and abandoned promises. The pond was where kids went to smoke their first cigarettes, where couples snuck off to make out, where children were taken to toss their dead pet fish.

Not a place where I was to encourage Mila Nikolaev to fall in love with me.

I kicked a squashed can into the water, watching as the ripples distorted the perfect reflection of the trees. It wasn't long before my mind drifted back to Taehyung, to the way he'd wrapped his muddy paws around Mila like he owned her. My fists clenched at the memory, he didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as her. And yet, there he was, always in the way, always pulling her closer just when I thought I was getting somewhere.

What really pissed me off was that she let him. She let him smirk and tease and make plans for her like she was his to command. And for what? A few hollow words and probably an ugly purple corsage? I laughed bitterly at the thought, kicking another piece of litter into the pond, this time with a little more force.

A twig snapped behind me, and I turned, my pulse quickening. But it wasn't Mila. It was just the wind or maybe a squirrel. I sighed and checked my watch again.

She wasn't coming.

Why would she? After all, why meet me in the shadows when she could bask in the fake charm of Taehyung under the spotlight?

Actually, that made the most sense. She wanted the best of both worlds.

I pushed off the tree, ready to call it a night and blow off some steam somewhere else. But then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair through the trees, moving quickly. My heart did that stupid flutter thing it did whenever she was around, but I kept my face neutral, not wanting to give away how long I'd been waiting.

She stepped into the clearing, her eyes finding mine immediately. She looked a bit frazzled, like she'd been running for a while. But when she moved toward me it was with a calm, controlled grace. Her breathing had evened out, and her expression was carefully composed, almost as if she'd managed to pull on a mask in those few seconds.

I always noticed the changes in my Mila.

"You're late," I said, my tone harsher than I'd intended. It was meant to be a joke, but the words came out clipped.

Mila didn't respond right away. Instead, she walked past me, dropping her bag by the edge of the pond before sitting down on the grass, her knees drawn to her chest. For a moment, I thought she might not answer at all, that she might just sit there in silence, letting the distance between us grow even wider.

But then, she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, staring at the water.

I felt a small surge of satisfaction at her apology, but it was quickly tempered by the exhaustion in her voice. That wasn't the Mila I knew, the one who could light up a room with a single smile, the one who never let anything truly get her down. That Mila seemed defeated, as if the day had drained every last bit of fight out of her.

I should have told her that she didn't have to do be here if she was too tired. But I didn't because I was young back then; unaware, selfish. Instead, I sat down beside her, close enough to feel the warmth of her presence and relished in it.

We sat there in quiet for what felt like forever. The pond was still, the only movement coming from the occasional ripple caused by a falling leaf or a distant splash from some unseen creature.

I kept glancing at her, hoping she'd look at me, hoping she'd say something, anything, that would make sense to why we were here. But she just stared ahead, lost in the thoughts I couldn't reach.

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. "Mila," I began, my voice almost a whisper. "You don't have to keep pretending, you know? You can just... be real."

Her gaze stayed fixed ahead. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she seemed to be holding herself together with sheer willpower. Finally, she turned to look at me, her eyes searching mine for something like reassurance, maybe, or understanding.

"I know," she said back, "but sometimes, it's just easier to pretend. Easier than dealing with reality."

Something between us was heavy, loaded with things left unsaid, and I knew I couldn't just leave it like that.

"So are you going to tell me what that was about earlier?" I finally asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though it was laced with frustration. "Why entertain Taehyung of all people? He's a complete asshole, Mila. You must know that."

"It's not that simple."

"It sure seems simple to me," I shot back, not wanting to let her off the hook. "He treats you like some kind of trophy to add to his collection, and you just let him. You literally don't have to go to prom with him if you don't want to."

She let out a shaky breath, finally looking up at me, her blue eyes filled with a mix of guilt and a bit of embarrassment even. "I wish I wasn't going with him," she admitted, her voice barely audible. "But... when he asked me, I felt like I didn't have the right to say no."

"What? Why?" My frustration spiked. "You're not obligated to say yes to him just because he's the captain of the football team or whatever. You don't owe him anything, Mila."

She shook her head. "It's not about owing him. It's just when someone like him asks someone like me, it's hard not to feel like you have to say yes. Like if you don't, you're throwing away some opportunity."

"That's bullshit," I snapped accidentally. I could feel the anger bubbling up inside me, not at her, but at the situation. At the way she felt trapped by something as stupid as high school politics. "If you don't want to go with him, don't. It literally is that simple."

Mila's eyes welled up, but she quickly blinked back the tears, her chin trembling slightly as she tried to keep it together. "I don't want to upset him," she confessed. "I know he's not perfect, but I can't stand the thought of hurting anyone, even if they don't always treat me right."

I admired her, strangely. Empathy was a rare thing round here and Mila had tons. Too much.

"You're too nice, Mila. Too kind for your own good."

She didn't say anything, she just drowned in her self-blame. And I hated seeing her like that, torn between her own happiness and some misguided sense of duty to someone who didn't deserve it.

"Well, screw this," I declared suddenly, standing up and brushing the dirt off my jeans. "If you're going to prom with him, then I'm coming too."

Mila's head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "But... you hate prom. You said you'd never go."

"Yeah, well, things change." I crossed my arms stubbornly. "I'm not going to let you deal with that jerk on your own. If you have to be there with him, then I'm going to be there too, just to make sure he doesn't pull any crap. Plus, someone's got to make sure you actually have fun."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and she looked at me with a mixture of gratitude and amusement. "You'd really do that? Just to be there for me?"

"Of course," I was trying to sound nonchalant, but my heart was racing. "You're worth it, Nikolaev."

She laughed softly, a sound that was music to my ears after the heaviness of our conversation. "You're actually impossible to get a read on."

"Adds to the mystery don't you think?"  I teased, flashing her a grin.

Mila rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was genuine this time. "Fine, but if you're coming you better not pull anything stupid. I've been waiting for senior year my whole life."

"No promises," I said with a wink, feeling a lightness I hadn't felt all evening. "But I'll try to behave, for you."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the water, and for the first time that night, I felt like maybe things were going to workout. Even if prom ended up a disaster, at least we'd face it together. Mila and me, me and Mila.

***

I nudged Mila's shoulder lightly as we walked along the edge of the water, my hands shoved deep into my pockets to keep from accidentally brushing hers. "So, Broadway, huh?" I asked, aiming for a casual tone but unable to hide my genuine curiosity. "Never would've guessed you were the singing-and-dancing type."

"Well, you've never heard me sing. I might surprise you." Mila's confidence with drama and acting was so damn attractive.

"I have no doubt," I replied, stealing a glance at her. She was humming to herself, like the thought of performing brought her some kind of peace, and I couldn't help but be drawn to that. "What's your dream role?"

"Easy," she said, her eyes widening. "Elphaba in Wicked. I've been obsessed with that show ever since I was a kid."

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "So, you're telling me you've got a witchy cackle up your sleeve?"

"Oh, absolutely, but you'll have to earn the privilege of hearing it."

"I'll hold you to that."

As we continued along the path, I noticed the way she moved—there was a grace to her steps, a lightness that hinted at the performer she wanted to be. It was like she was always in motion, even when she was still, like she carried a rhythm within her that the world couldn't hear.

Mila kicked a small pebble along as we walked. "What about you, Jeon? What's your big dream?"

I shrugged, a little caught off guard by the question. I hadn't really thought about it in a while, not in any real, meaningful way. "I guess I haven't figured that out yet," I admitted, kicking my own pebble. "I mean, I've got things I want to do, but nothing as clear-cut as performing on Broadway."

She tilted her head, her curiosity evident. "Like what?"

"I guess I've always been into art. Painting, mostly. There's something about capturing a moment, freezing it in time from my memory alone, that I love. But it's just a hobby."

Mila stopped walking and looked up at me, her expression softening. "That doesn't sound like just a hobby. It sounds like something you're passionate about."

I shrugged again, feeling a bit exposed under her gaze. "Maybe. I've just never really seen it as something I could turn into a career."

"Well, why not?" she pressed, her voice encouraging. "You're a creative, Jungkook. I've seen the way you look at things. It's like you're seeing something most people miss. That's a gift."

I hadn't expected her to say that, and for a moment, I was at a loss for words. It felt... nice, having someone believe in me, even if it was just a passing comment.

"Maybe you're right. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll paint you up on stage. I'll get my green acrylics ready."

She laughed, and it warmed me from the inside out. "I'd be honored. Just make sure you paint my nose smaller."

"Of course!"

"Hey!" She smacked me. "You were supposed to tell me my nose isn't that big!"

Her nose was perfect. The most beautiful nose in the world.

The conversation drifted from dreams to other things: small, personal details that made me feel like I was peeling back the layers of who she really was. I learned that she was terrified of spiders but loved snakes, that she had a tattoo of a tiny star hidden behind her ear that she'd gotten on a whim, and that she had a habit of biting her lip when she was deep in thought.

Before I knew it, we were back under the old oak tree. Mila looked up at the branches that stretched out above us, her eyes narrowing in contemplation.

"You climb trees?" she asked suddenly, glancing over at me with a mischievous grin.

"I mean yeah? I guess ahah," I eyed the tree warily. "Haven't in a while, though. Why? You thinking of taking up a new hobby?"

"Maybe," she said, that mischievous grin widening. "But only if you'll teach me."

I couldn't help but fold at her sudden burst of energy. She was so cute. "Alright, but don't blame me if you get stuck up there."

She had already grabbed hold of the lowest branch. "Just don't let me fall, okay?"

Never.

I watched her for a moment, amused by her determination. She wasn't particularly tall, maybe around five foot six? But what she lacked in height, she made up for in sheer willpower. I stepped closer, reaching up to steady her as she found her footing but she didn't need my help, not really.

"Okay, just grab the next branch and pull yourself up," I instructed, my hands hovering near her waist, ready to catch her if she slipped.

She followed my directions, her brow furrowing in concentration as she slowly made her way up. "This is harder than it looks," she muttered, though there was a gleam of excitement vibrating through her.

"You're doing great... and your ass looks amazing from this angle."

"Pack it in you pig!" she yelled breathlessly over her shoulder.

After a few more minutes of climbing, we finally settled on one of the thicker branches, sitting side by side as we looked out over the woodland below. The view from up here was different, almost magical, with the moonlight reflecting off the water like a million tiny diamonds.

Eugene, Oregon, wasn't exactly known for being exciting. It was a small city, surrounded by endless forests and mountains, where life moved at its own pace. But with Mila by my side, suddenly, I could see the beauty in everything: the mist clinging to the treetops, how the city lights in the distance flickered like stars. It was like seeing the world in a new light, a softer, more enchanted one, where even the mundane seemed extraordinary.

"This is amazing," Mila breathed, her voice full of wonder. "I can't believe I've never done this before."

"First times are always the best," I said, coyly.

She rolled her eyes, her tone half-serious. "Do you ever get tired of innuendos?"

"Fuck no!" My face contorted. "I live for them."

She laughed again, and before I knew it she was playfully shoving me, trying to knock me off balance. I pretended to teeter for a moment before catching myself.

"Oh, it's on now," I warned, reaching out to tickle her sides.

She squealed and squirmed away, but there was nowhere for her to go. "Jungkook, stop! I'm going to fall!"

After our pretty steamy wrestling session concluded, we both ended up leaning back against the trunk, breathless and laughing. The night air was cool against our flushed skin, and the stars above seemed to twinkle a little brighter, as if they were in on our jokes.

"This was fun," Mila said, her voice like a little kid.

"Yeah," I agreed, looking over at her. Mila's hair, which was always a bit untamed, was even messier from the climb, with loose strands sticking out in all directions. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek and on the white satin vest top that had slipped off her shoulder revealing her freckled chest. She looked more alive than I'd seen her all night.

As we sat there in comfortable silence, I realised that it was one of those moments I wanted to freeze in time. Just the two of us.

Mila sighed contentedly, her head suddenly resting on my shoulder as she looked up at the stars. "Thank you."

"For what?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"For this," she said sweetly. "For making me feel like I can be myself. I don't get to do that very often."

I looked down at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. She was always so full of life, so confident and outgoing, that it was easy to forget she had her own insecurities too.

"You don't have to feel any pressure around me, Mila." I snuck an arm around her shoulders. "You're pretty amazing just the way you are."

I can't believe the way she had me talking.

She didn't say anything in response, but I could feel her relax against me, her hand resting lightly on mine. I tried not to react, worried it was going to scare her off. We just sat in a silence that spoke a thousand words.

And in that moment, I knew I had fallen for her; fallen hard.

The giggles eventually faded and the night settled into a comfortable stillness, I found myself thinking about home—and how I really didn't want to go. My thoughts meandered, eventually circling back to the way Mila had shown up earlier, breathless, with something unspoken in her eyes. It was just a passing thought really, but it lingered. Not everything had been quite right.

"So," I started, my voice breaking the silence. "Why were you all sweaty and weird when you arrived?"

She stiffened slightly and I instantly regretted asking. The lightness we'd just shared seemed to flicker away as she pulled away from my side, shifting on the branch to create space between us.

"It's nothing," she said quickly, her tone too bright, too forced. "I just... wanted to get here. To see you."

Even though those words were the words I was so desperate to hear, I wasn't buying it. "Mila," I pressed gently, leaning forward to catch her gaze. "If something's wrong, you know you can tell me."

God, I wish I could tell her about my own demons.

Her expression wavered, and for a moment, I thought she might actually open up. But then she shook her head, her eyes darting away from mine. "Really, it's nothing. I just had an argument with my dad. But I'm fine now, especially after all this."

I didn't believe her for a second. The way she had brushed it off, the way she was avoiding my eyes—it was all too deliberate. But I could see that she wasn't ready to talk about it, not now, not when she was trying so hard to hold onto the happiness of the evening.

"Okay," I said softly, letting it go.

She gave me a grateful smile, the kind that didn't quite reach her eyes, and I felt a pang in my chest. "We should probably get going. It's a school night." The girl practically threw herself from the branch, landing with surprising agility. There she was screaming at me earlier for jumping off a low roof, and she had jumped off a twelve foot tree onto unstable ground.

"I'll walk you," I declared, hopping off to follow her.

Mila froze mid-movement, turning to look at me with something almost like panic. "You don't have to do that," she said quickly, too quickly. "I'm a big girl, Jungkook. I can get home on my own."

I narrowed my eyes at her, not liking the way she was brushing me off. "I know you can, but I'd feel better if I walked you."

"Really, I'll be fine. It's not far. You don't need to babysit me."

"It's not babysitting," I shot back, crossing my arms as I stood my ground. "It's making sure my friend gets home safe."

Friend? Mila was not my friend and I was not going to let this go.

She started speed-walking toward the path that led out of the clearing, and I followed, matching her pace. "Jungkook, seriously. I'm fine, just go home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Nope," I said, deliberately blunt. "Not happening."

She stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face me with her hands on her hips. "Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" I countered, taking a step closer to her.

She let out an exasperated huff, throwing her hands up in the air. "Because I don't need you to protect me! I'm not some damsel in distress!"

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I'm just going to let you walk home alone with psychopaths on the loose! What if Taehyung comes running at you with that fugly purple corsage? Who's going to be there to protect you?" I argued, refusing to back down.

We stood there, locked in a silent standoff, neither one of us willing to budge. I could see her frustration, but there was something else there too, something that made me want to reach out and comfort her, to make whatever it was that was stressing her out go away.

She broke first, her eyes closing in defeat and her shoulders slumping as she turned to go. I suddenly felt guilty.

"Okay," she almost barked. "Let's go."

I was about to uncover the secret Mila Nikolaev had been trying so hard to keep hidden, a secret she might have managed to keep out of sight if I weren't so damn persistent.

***

I'm trying to update as quickly as I can, I know it's hard to get back into the story when I haven't posted for like 2 years 😎

My writings changed a lot, hopefully for the better. I'm worried my chapters from the beginning aren't  going to match the writing now. But who knows ay!

Meg x