I’ve been really busy with school and I’m sorry to keep you guys waiting on the update of Tease. :(( Thesis writing is killing me. /cries/

But anyway, here’s a scenario I came up with on a whim the other day... This is my 2nd option bias scenario (the first being “Do You Know”) Hope you guys like it! <3

(1st person POV - you/reader)

The first time I thought I lost my mind, I was seven and he was nine. I’ve always thought of him as some sort of hero; looked up to him like a star that shone in the high heavens, which by some twisted fate ended up here on earth.

Secretly, I've always thought he was the shooting star I've been wishing on. 

My mom and I came to visit his place because his mom and my mom happened to be in that same cross-stitching club every mom in the neighbourhood suddenly took an interest at. I hid behind my as she talked to his mom, my eyes surveying my surroundings. It was a nice living room painted in beige; with wooden furnitures and yellow curtains hanging by the windowsill--

Bang!

Just then, he strode into the room wearing blue shorts and a white polo. A backpack was slung on his back and his dark hair was slightly disheveled from the wind. I stared at him with round eyes, my grip tightening on the hem of my mother’s blouse.

I couldn’t understand then why my heart went ba-dum! Ba-dum! Ba-dum! 

"Honey come meet, Y/N and Mrs. YL/N." His mom called with a smile. She was a beautiful woman with long black hair and almond-shaped eyes. Eyes, which I observed, resembled yours so much.

He bounded towards us with a smile, bowing politely in greeting before his gaze switched to mine and lingered... probably longer than it should. My eyes widened when you smiled at me and I hid deeper into my mom’s back, my hands gripping her peach blouse tightly for dear life.

"Sweetie," my mom chuckled as she pulled me out from hiding. "Don't be shy."

"I'm not shy." I muttered defiantly and I heard him chuckle which made me blush.

"You want to play outside?” My ears perked up at the word “play” and I found myself sneaking a peak from my current hiding place. He was looking at me intently, eyes playful yet kind. “Dad and I built a kite and I'm going to try it out in the field!" he said excitedly and it was so contagious I felt the excitement building up in my chest too, causing my hands to loosen its grip on my mother’s blouse and a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. 

"Go on honey. Go play with <bias' name>." My mom encouraged and I obliged, following him as he talked of how he had built the kite from scratch. And how it was the best kite there is since his dad and he made it. 

To be honest, I believed him. Every single word. And to be quite frank, my mother didn't need to encourage me. For when he turned towards the door, I was already on his tail... ready to follow wherever he would go.

 

~~~

The second time I though I lost my mind, I was fourteen and he was sixteen. And already, he shone so brightly like the star he is and stood against the crowd that girls had themselves shoving gifts at his desk at school—hoping to have their love accepted and returned.

"I can do this." I told myself as I gripped the blue box in my hand (his favorite color), filled with cookies I tried so hard learning to bake. I finally go the hang of it a few days ago and now I was ready to give it to him... along with every piece of my heart. 

"Hey Y/N!"

I jumped slightly at the call, followed by a familiar touch tapping my shoulder. I didn't have to look to know it was him. I took a deep breath before turning around, and his blinding smile welcomed me the way Summer would to Spring. “Hey.” I said and he ruffled my hair playfully out of habit.

So much for looking good for you, I thought.

"Whatcha got there?" He asked and my heart started beating like a drum; hands shaking and back pressing against the wall guiltily. "Can I see--"

"No!" I yelled and he jumped back in surprise. "I mean… you can't."

"Why not?" He frowned. "Are you hiding gifts from me? What happened to our code of never-ever-having-to-keep-secrets from-each-other-because-we're-best friends?"

"Since when did we have such a mouthful of a code?!" 

"Since when did you start hiding things from me?" He asked back and I opened my mouth to protest but ended up gasping when his hand swiftly s its way behind me and grabbed the box with ease. I wasn't sure which made me more nervous: the fact that he had the box in his hand or how his hand grazed my hip and how his face was leaning so closely to mine I could smell the breath mint coming off of his lips.

"Cookies!" He grinned upon opening them. I sighed as he looked at the box with delight, feeling lighthearted. It was the exact reaction I was hoping for… only in a different situation. 

"Oh, may I?" He asked before digging in and I let him because I never could say no.

I'll just bake him a new batch tomorrow, I told myself and that was the stupidest thought ever because the next day? Another girl happened to confess...

And he said yes.
 

~~~

The third time I thought I lost my mind, I was in a cab rushing from work at 12:24 AM, and he was punch drunk somewhere outside a bar, waiting for me to pick him up.

He was leaning by the wall outside the moment I arrived, looking dazed. I huffed, thinking how on earth I continue to put up with him.

Maybe that's the thing when you love someone... You do things you aren't even sure why you do.

"Hey you." I said as I placed his arm over my shoulders. His weight made me stumble a bit but the light chuckle that comes out from his lips made me sigh and shake my head amusedly. 

"Hey yourself." He grinned as he leant against me, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes invading my senses. He never smoked but some of his friends did. And quite frankly, that was just as worse. He shouldn’t even be hanging out with people like that. He knew better but I wasn’t so sure what made him so.

I sighed again as he mumbled something gibberish into my ear, and tried my best to drag him back into the cab.

At my apartment, I went on the usual routine of taking care of him whenever he was too drunk to move: getting extra blankets and a pillow for him to sleep on the couch, running a bath, and even taking those shirts which he always leaves at my place whenever he stayed over. He definitely took advantage of his welcome and I let him because he was my best friend. He told me he finds his apartment too boring most of the time that’s why he comes over so much. Though I believe it was because I had a game console at his disposal. 

I chuckled when he whined as I towelled his hair dry; the hair dryer overwhelming all other sounds. Once I’ve managed to get him all dressed and dried, I told him to get to the couch and sleep.

"You're too good to me, Y/N." He murmured just as I was about to leave the room. The day had been long with piles of work stacking on my desk in a never-ending loop. Truth be told, I was ready to pass out on my bed after my three-hour over time, but when he called earlier, I just had to come to him. I couldn’t leave him because—

"You're my best friend." I love you.

"Hmm.” He sighed heavily and I practically felt the sadness washing over him like wave. 

“What happened?” I whispered as I walked back into the room and took a seat on one of my beanie chairs at the foot of the couch. He moved his head to the side to look at me and frowned deeply. I tucked the blanket up to his chin, and he held my hand as I did, his touch warm against my cold ones.

“I saw her…with someone.” he said as I tried not to focus on the way his thumb was rubbing circles on the back of my palm. “She’s a , you know? And you have astupid best friend.”

“He’s not stupid.” I murmured as I ran my hand through his hair. he elant against my touch and I had the urge to kiss his forehead. 

“Thank you Y/N.” he yawned. “I don’t get why you’re so good to me. You deserve better.” he mumbled.

"Yeah?" And you deserve so much more than some girl who takes you for granted.

"Yeah.... So much better.” He said before sleep knocked him out. And as usual, I lingered by the foot of the couch, watching him sleep... hoping that when he wakes, he’ll finally see me.

But like every morning that comes, he never did.

~~~

The fourth time I thought I lost my mind, I was in the middle of the crowd, nestled against people I didn’t know while he was probably getting ready backstage. The show was about to begin.

It’s been three years and things have been well. <Bias’ name> channeled all his frustrations into his music; spending his time locked up in his studio creating beats which turned into spectacular tracks. Tracks which were later on discovered by a producer of a big company who had given him a contract promising fame and fortune for his work.

And now, he was part of this famous group who sings, dances, and raps to his music. And they are really brilliant!

I smiled as I read through his recent texts. He kept asking me where I was and I chuckled, sensing impatience and nervousness through his messages.

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