track #03 in kunboss ryder bailey

itzy // not shy

THE HOUSE goes silent, following everyone ignoring me yet again, because of the recent messages. I don't get why they won't tell me – do they just expect me to figure it out myself? I was just pointing out the fact that Tris changed his username. It was a fact, yet now they blame me for being insensitive? Was I supposed to catch on? There were no hints given.

I quickly go upstairs and check on what Gwyneth's doing through the crack in her door – she's still at home, working on the plan against Byrok, Zoey sitting on the bed with her, talking and chatting – and quickly pull my phone out, firing Evelyn a text.

kunrbailey: nothing so far

kunrbailey: they're still working on the anti-byrok plan. have been every day.

seen by _evelynhj.

I stand outside Gwyneth's door, peeking inside at Zoey, the girl I've been admiring from afar for ages – to be honest, ever since we met, it was an infatuation. An unhealthy one. She was cute back then, but over the years, it's transformed into sheer beauty. The first time I saw her at our parents' summer get-togethers, I already knew I was a goner. I knew I was going to spend the rest of my school years unreasonably staring at her, pursuing her. Her curtain bangs forming soft curls around her temples, the now medium length hair flowing down her back like a waterfall.

She's laughing at something Gwyneth said. I knew it, because the sound of her melodic laugh echoed in the air. I didn't mean to – in fact, I didn't notice even until it was too late – that I was staring. As soon as I saw her, a bare hint of red – and heat – creeped up my cheeks. I was blushing – embarrassed by my own instinct to find her in a room, yet transfixed all the same.

I look away quickly, telling myself that the way her shoulders shake when chuckling aren't that endearing at all, and attempt to wipe the wide smile off my face.

As I come back to my senses, a hand waves in front of my face.

"Oh, hi cutie," I say.

"What the hell?" Gwyneth curses before slamming the door shut right in my face. "Go away. Why are you here?"

I facepalm myself internally for saying such a stupid thing – 'cutie'? Who says that? Especially to someone they've just fought with? Apparently, me.

Now, any hope of either regaining Gwyneth's trust or staring at Zoey from the sliver of an opening in the door is gone.

***

Zoey would always draw portraits of Gwyneth and I, some together, some separate, and I would always stare at them when we were having a playdate at her house, admiring the artwork, or maybe the talent of the artist herself. They were framed and hung straight onto the wall; us laughing, slapping each other, cackling in a flowerbed full of roses, daisies, poppies and daffodils; and the flowers reminded me of Zoey.

So did the sunset, which unfortunately ended earlier than it should've. But my crush (or you could say obsession) on Zoey never ended, now even at age eighteen, I'm pining after her hopelessly. Even in that arena, I never failed to connect the thought of the then-dead her to any pretty thing I saw. It was my motivation to move on and win for her – even though I didn't manage to do so.

I used to think Zoey's smile was only as bright and happy as the flowers surrounding the Adelaide Woods – like a beauty in nature. It was where I was supposed to be; where I always had thought I belonged.

Nature was our dwelling place – the seaside, the falling raindrops, the garden – everywhere in nature, we felt the happiest; not restrained by expectations, school, and even our parents' orders. Where I could set myself free like a dove in summer; where I could pretend to be a kite, flying high and excited in the cool autumn breeze.

Gwyneth had laughed loudly and teased me for wanting to be able to fly.

"It's impossible," she said. She'd always been a realist. She refused to get her hopes up or down – though she could be optimistic at times, she always knew what was impossible to happen, and never expected that those wishes would come true, so she was seldom let down by the failure of things she wanted. But now everything is different, when I see her crossed arms staring at me, I wonder what I did wrong – or did she expect too much of me, because we're all humans.

"Get a life," I had said, scoffing. "Flying is a dream. Not something impossible. And we only live once – so why don't we make the days count. I'll be able to fly one day. Just watch."

She had stuck her tongue out at me. "Shut up, it's impossible. You'll know when you tell the world that you can fly, but end up hopelessly sprawled on the floor."

Zoey would stay silent, and we'd both turn to her, Gwyneth in exasperation, hoping that she'd help explain; and me just observing every single detail on her face and carving it into my memory. I was a bad artist or writer, unlike them both, but when it came to reciting everything about the girl I loved, I excelled at it. I could tell you every look she gave, every edition of my favourite laugh. I could memorize every crease at the corner of her eyes, every birthmark on her face. Tristan and Aiden would often tease me for staring at her from afar in Math class, too.

To me, Zoey was no longer only a flower; she was the entire Nature. All the good parts of Nature, maybe even the bad ones – but I still appreciated and loved her no matter what. And where I belonged the most. Home.

But one particular part stuck with me, all the way since we were seven, kids camping out in the countryside.

We only live once, so why not make the days count?

As I descend the staircase to my own room and lock myself inside, all the possibilities run through my mind. We only have one life. We only live once. Make the days count.

I won't wait any longer for this.

***

"ZEY!" I call, swallowing my pride and steeling my mind. I unlock the door immediately with a click, already with a plan in mind.

Especially now, the word hesitate isn't part of my dictionary. Keeping my eyes on the prize, I slam my door shut with a bang and run up the stairs, where I see Zoey slowly making her way down, on her way to her room.

"Zey," I say breathlessly, grabbing onto her arm. She flings me away emotionlessly, and I chase her up to the sky-blue door that is her room.

"Zey, please listen to me."

"What," she says boredly.

"I- I have something to tell you."

I hear her breath hitch as she tries wriggling her way away from me again.

Zoey pushes my arm away in frustration. "Just say it, will you? Stop dragging everything. I have work to do."

"I- I-" I stutter, still unable to confess my love for the girl I've been admiring ever since we met. I guess the stress has gotten to me.

Suddenly, the stomp of a foot on the marble stairs startles me – and I look to the corridor to see Gwyneth walking towards us, and huff loudly.

"Please, Zey. I-"

Before I can finish my sentence, she's already arrived, staring at me with her arms crossed. "Kunboss Ryder Bailey," Gwyneth says sternly. "What in the absolute hell of a world are you doing?"

I release my grip on Zoey and turn to her, hands on my hips. "Why is it your business? We've got a life, got jobs, and so do you. Go do your thing."

"No," she demands. "Get the hell away from Zoey. Now."

I sigh in defeat, and Zoey takes the chance to slip away into her room, where I can hear her snuggling under the warmth of her duvet covers and blasting music to heal her from the trauma. She's a classic introvert.

"Not shy, not me," the music sings.

Yeah, right. Not shy. Why didn't I just get it over with?

I turn my head to Gwyneth. "What on earth was that for?"

"Making sure you good-for-nothing doesn't harm my childhood best friend," she says without a care for the world, turning and walking back down the stairs. "What are you thinking? Something's gotten into your brain, Kunboss," she taunts.

The blasting music coming from Zoey's room does nothing but drown me in my own sorrows even further; "You're what I want," "Don't wanna have any regrets." "I'm the only one,"

When the chorus rolls around once again, I turn, storming into my room, cursing Gwyneth for ruining the only chance I may have had to make things right. 

– a/n: omfg this isn't proper byrok action but GWYN WHY DID YOU RUIN IT? do you think zoey has caught on to kun being infatuated w/ her yet? do you think either one of them will try to confess again anytime soon? excited for your replies <3 

– also i realized, we're PAST CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE!??? this is actually the most i've ever written, you'll notice in second chance there are only 21 chaps and for the other two like twenty TT i'm so proud of how far this project has come