She was the perfect girl at her school. Smart, athletic, pretty, and artistic. To top it all off, she was also genuinely incredibly nice, and thoughtful of all the people she knew. She deserved every bit of joy in her life.

He was the perfect boy at his school. Handsome, talented, and he was the champion of the region’s soccer team. He was also kind and sincere, not letting his popularity get to his head. He deserved every bit of joy in his life.

I was just the best friend. Truth be told, it wasn’t a particularly special role, but I was content with it; I chatted with the main character every day, had sleepovers, went shopping with her, walked to and from school with her, and giggled over cute celebrities with her. I always consoled her if something was wrong, and in turn, she made sure I never felt down- like she did to everyone. But I had my own issues that she couldn’t- or didn’t- see.

Every time we went to a restaurant or mall, I wondered how she could eat so much and stay so slim. Every time we went out to the beach or a park, I wondered how her skin stayed so healthy and white. Even when we secretly binged on chocolate or curry fish balls, I wondered how her skin stayed so porcelain clear and smooth. I don’t know when it was that I realized it- that I was just her shadow, the girl behind her that people would always only know as “her best friend”.

I was stereotypically supposed to be cheerful and perky, ready to go anywhere with her at any time. But what if I didn’t want to? Although, she was an amazing friend; always empathetic and wanting the best for me too.

And then there came a boy that I really, really liked. He was popular, yes, but he was still exceptionally considerate. He was tall, handsome, and intelligent, and it helped that he was the MVP of our city’s youth soccer team- meaning he was really in shape.

He hung out with us sometimes, and after the time he lagged behind to talk to me and help while I was gathering my books, I found myself paying attention to him. I noticed that he started going out with our circle more and more often, and he’d always make sure to say a few words to me, help me hold some stuff, or wordlessly keep me company. I knew what the fluttering in my chest was- I wasn’t an idiot.

Or so I thought. I couldn’t believe I didn’t notice sooner.

Our short (-but-sweet) conversations started to revolve around a certain topic- my best friend. When he saw me in the halls, he’d casually slip in her name.

Is she with you right now? What are you guys doing after school? Is she in your next class? She is? What’s your class?

I’d get suspicious, but all my lingering thoughts disappeared when he offered to walk me to my next class.

But it was obvious why he offered.

***

It suddenly registered one day after a particularly grilling math test. We were waiting outside the classrooms at my locker for my best friend, so we could go out for ice cream. I don’t remember how the conversation started, but suddenly, my heart was soaring from our light banter, and the words blurted out from my mouth.

“Psh, that’s why you love me.” The words I would’ve rather died than said.

But he just laughed it off, reaching to ruffle my hair. I flushed at the proximity, already anticipating the warm caress of his hand. I couldn’t keep the goofy smile off my face.

“Hey bestie!”

His hand vanished, reappearing back at his side. His entire face lit up, and I could practically see his spirits shooting up at the sight of her. Mine, however, sunk instantly at his lack of contact. She smacked his back as a greeting, scrunching up her face back at his pout. I could feel my spirits dampening even more, until she came over and engulfed me in an enormous hug.

“Thanks for waiting,” she giggled. “You’re the best friend ever.”

***

On our way to the nearby dessert parlor, she skipped beside him while talking. I watched from behind them, walking with some other friends. I didn’t miss the way his eyes traced her every movement, the way he smiled unconsciously as she gestured animatedly, the way he pinked when she beamed at him.

“You’re so full of yourself,” he teased good-naturedly in reply to something she said. She smirked, winking the bunch of us.

“That’s why you guys love me,” she retorted playfully. She had that bright, infectious smile on, her tone teasing. I rolled my eyes with a smile; I was used to this line from her- but obviously he wasn’t.

“N-no, I don’t!” He waved his hands in front of his face for emphasis while he protested vehemently. His cheeks were dusted with red, and my relatively good mood fell at his reaction. Why did he seem so affected by her, whereas he just laughed when I said practically the same thing?

She stuck her tongue out at him, not minding his weak complaints at all, and pointed excitedly at the shop. We all laughed, following her.

I was the only one who heard his whisper.

“At least, I hope I don’t.”

My heart dropped.

***

The next day, I couldn’t look her in the face. I should’ve known- it’d be her that he liked, as it was for all the friends she’d made. In class, I watched him watch her; I stared at him staring at her. I smiled at him as he smiled at her, and I worried about him as he worried about her. I could see the concern and envy written on his face as she chatted with two other boys, and bitterly, I wondered if he even noticed when I talked to others in general, much less other males. He couldn’t keep his gaze off her, except when she turned around to tell us something; then he’d face somewhere else, embarrassed.

Often me.

And it hurt seeing the pink tint on his cheeks. But he smiled at me a bit, and I’d start imagining again that there was a chance he liked me back.

My life was like it was sitting on a tightrope- it was wobbling because of his obvious feelings for another girl, and only my oblivious best friend’s non-reciprocating feelings were keeping me in balance.

***

We were having another sleepover and we were already in our beds beside each other, when I first decided to ask her.

“Hey.”

She rolled around to face me from across the room. “Yeah?”

“Do you like…” I paused, not wanting to hear her answer. But I bit out the question anyways, wondering why I did this to myself. “Do you like… anyone right now?”

She didn’t reply right away, and I started feeling unease. I forced myself not to fidget at her lack of a response.

“No,” she finally answered, but she didn’t sound certain. “I mean, I don’t think so?”

I frowned.

“Well, if you do, I have to be the first to know,” I said lightly. “Then… what about him? You know, our very own Mr. Hotshot?”

I heard her soft, tinkling laughter.

“I don’t think I like him in that way. But who knows? I might start liking him.”

My eyes squeezed shut, but it made no difference. It was still pitch black. “Good night, then,” I managed.

“I feel sleepy too,” she agreed. “Hope you sleep well, bestie,” she added sincerely.

***

We were in the washroom the second time I decided to ask her.

“Are you sure you don’t like him? I’m pretty sure he likes you,” I remarked as casually as I could through my clenched teeth. She was still in a stall, so she couldn’t see me.

“Po-positive,” she said hesitantly, but followed up right away. “Yep. I’m sure.”

“From what we can see, you guys are already dating,” I scoffed, then immediately hoped my tone came off as playful instead of bitter.

“I told you already, we aren’t like that,” she retorted, but I could hear the smile in her voice. Cautiously, I let myself relax.

***

We were on our phones, catching up over Christmas break the last time I decided to ask her. (After all, third time’s the charm.) It was already the night of Boxing Day when we were talking, and I was wearing the brand-new fuzzy socks she had given me (she had a matching pair, apparently), along with listening to the CD gift that I had wanted for a while.

[“Hey, bestie.”]

I grunted in reply. The lead singer’s voice had me in a spell. His vocals, along with the song, made me think a lot about him.

[“I think you were right.”]

I instantly snap out of my reverie of our days before he started liking my best friend. “Right about what?”

There was a pause, and I drummed my fingers to the beat impatiently.

[“I-I… I think I like him.”]

My world as I knew it fell off the tightrope and shattered.

***

I didn’t know why life had to do this to me.

I was innocently running an errand for a lazy teacher after school, when I happened to overhear their conversation. They were sitting in a stairway, one of our school’s massive glass spirals with sunlight spilling through the material. They sat right beside each other on the first step, shoulders pressed together. I couldn’t help but stop in my tracks, looking at them from the door behind them. There was no one else there but the three of us.

“Really?”

“...Yeah.” Their conversation lulled to a stop, but he suddenly glanced sideways at her. She looked down, flushing from his intense gaze. “Hey.”

“Why are you staring at me?” she whined, but even to me, it sounded shaky.

“Because you’re beautiful,” he said without hesitating. She jerked back as if electrocuted, and I felt something in me shrivel up and die. My hopes, or dreams that I’d ever get a happy ending?

“W-what?” I didn’t know how she managed to get that out, seeing as how shocked she looked at the moment.

“I said, you’re beautiful. Not only your face, but everything about you. It’s almost scary how much I find myself thinking of you.” He paused, and his voice lowered.

“I’ve held it in for as long as I could, but I don’t think I can anymore. Every little thing about you makes me fall more and more, to the point where I just want to be with you all the time. So I just wanted to say that I…” He blushed after his not so lengthy spiel, and I could practically read what was coming up next. But I couldn’t move.

“I like you. It’s okay if you don’t like me back. I’m just telling you now, so I don’t regret it. I like you,” he repeated, gaining confidence with every time he said it. “No, I love-”

“I like you too,” she cut him off, her head buried in her lap from embarrassment. He froze in shock, but it quickly melted into delight. “What?”

“You heard me perfectly fine,” she grumbled, but looked up with a shy smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear it clearly,” he teased, and she reddened again.

“I like you too, okay? I don’t even know when I started, but I know that I do,” she admitted, and his grin stretched from ear to ear. He pulled her into a tight hug, and I could clearly hear him mumble, “Thank you.”

After a pause, he looked up. “Does that mean we’re dating now?”

She got redder, if possible, and smacked him on the arm. “What do you think, idiot?” she muttered, but they just smiled dreamily at each other.

It was the last straw for me when they started to lean in, and I whirled around and ran away from the stairway. I ran away from that section of the school, and hastily dropped off the books. I mumbled an apology to the startled teacher for how long I took, and dashed off, heart breaking.

***

I was an excellent actress.

My friend could usually tell right away if there was something wrong, and she’d try her best to make me feel better. But I did have several days to stay home (to recuperate; I lied that I wasn’t feeling well. Although it was the truth) and gather myself, and I promised to make way for my friends’ happiness.

Sure enough, they were the new “it” couple in school- the angelic girl and the school prince together, in what seemed like the most romantic of relationships. I couldn’t even wish for them to break up, seeing as how content they were with each other.

I decided to it up and move on. My bottled up feelings could never come out.

But why was it that I was the one who had to move on, and she didn’t?

***

Much to my pain and dismay, they stayed together throughout the last two years of high school, still going strong as we approached graduation. They still had the same loving aura as the beginning of their relationship, although it was more refined and mature now. They went to prom together, obviously, and were voted the prom king and queen- to no one’s surprise. I watched him spin her off her feet into a hug, and press a chaste kiss onto her forehead. The student and teachers alike erupted into cheers, the excited energy rolling off in waves, but I couldn’t bring myself to clap.

He had saved a dance for me, but I had quickly excused myself to go to the restroom. He was probably going to dance with her instead. But to my surprise, she followed me to the ladies’ room.

“Hey, bestie. Are you feeling alright? I would’ve never expected you to skip out on a dance with ‘Mr. Hotshot’,” she laughs, quoting my words from several years ago.

Yeah? Well, you’d never expect a lot of the things I’d been thinking for the last two years.

“I’m fine.” I waved my hand, motioning for her to leave. “You can dance with him- I just need to relieve myself.”

She wrinkled her nose, but a relieved grin makes its way onto her beautiful face. “I’m glad,” she just said, and I look down. Why did she have to be my best friend?

No, why does she have to be so nice?

***

I didn’t contact them throughout my university years. I didn’t want to be distracted again, and instead, I focused on my studies and new friends. After I graduated with flying colours, I called her- I had almost forgotten all my suppressed pain from six years ago.

Almost.

[“Hey, bestie!”]

It was amazing how many painful memories a voice could carry through a phone, but I couldn’t help but smile at her cheerful tone. I broke into a laugh. “Hey to you too.”

We caught up, and she didn’t bring up the topic I was hoping to hear about- yet I wasn’t at the same time. To tell the truth, I had been really tempted to call the both of them over the years, but I could predict the silent water works that would come with it. So I didn’t.

I felt my smile slowly melt away as she described her university days, and her perfect scores in med school. She prompted me to tell her about my life several times, and listened patiently while I talked, adding her comments here and there. I realized how much I missed her, and we planned a meet up with all our old friends, including him.

I was looking forward to it.

But I shouldn’t have.

***

We went to a restaurant together, with all the familiar faces I haven’t seen for a while. As soon as she saw me, she tackled me in a hug.

“Oh my gosh,” she breathed. “I haven’t seen you in forever! I tried to talk to you so many times! What happened? Although I hear you did really well too! I’m so happy,” she rambled, and I caught happy tears glistening in her eyes.

I stared at her. She had gotten a bit taller, although she was still shorter than me, even in heels. She was prettier, and looked more mature- but her face still had that timeless, innocent glow to it. She was also as successful as always, but I felt warm that she had missed me that much.

And then I looked at him, his arm wrapped lovingly around her waist. He was taller too, and looked even more breathtakingly handsome than ever in his suit. I could tell his job was paying well, and I could see other females rake their scorching gazes over him hungrily, only to give up when they saw who he was with. He smiled sweetly at me, but the action just made my heart wince.

Dinner went on with us chatting away like old times, getting caught up on every single little thing. I admitted that I had dated around with several guys, but they weren’t anything serious. My best friend, on the other hand, was still serious with him, and the familiar twinge of jealousy reappeared. I shoved it down, slipping my smile back on. But it didn’t last.

We were eating our desserts, when suddenly a small clink got everyone’s attention. My best friend stared at her plate in surprise, blinking slowly. I followed her trail of vision down, and my heart dropped to my stomach at what I saw.

A glittering ring sat on her plate, in the middle of the remains of her Japanese cheesecake.

Her hand flew to , her eyes starting to glaze over with moisture. Her head whipped over to him, sitting beside her, and he looked incredibly nervous. Wordlessly, she set down the plate gently. He bit his lips, wringing his tie in his hand.

Then she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him tenderly, so tenderly that I had to look away.

Everyone in the entire restaurant cooed and cheered, and I clapped weakly- when all I wanted to do was to huddle in a corner and cry my eyes out.

I could feel the stinging of tears at the back of my eyes. I was so stupid to keep loving him for so long; I knew I’d never had a chance with him as soon as my best friend stepped into the picture. All these years had just made it worse.

My other friends patted me on the shoulder, assuming I was crying from happiness or pride. Why was it that no one in this world understood me?

I barely noticed him helping her up, and formally kneeling in front of her. I barely noticed the restaurant lights dim and live musicians coming out to serenade them. I barely noticed the dazzling diamond ring in between his fingers, being offered to my best friend.

“I already gave my answer, you dummy,” she laughed in between her tears, but he carefully took her hand, as if she was the most delicate and cherished thing in his world.

Which, she most definitely was.

“I know. But I need to hear it again. Marry me, love.”

She laughed again. “Of course.”

My friends and complete strangers applauded.

“I like how you didn’t even ask. It was, like, just a demand. Oh my gosh, so romantic!” Our other friends squealed, and he smiled down at my best friend at his side.

“I knew she’d say yes,” he chuckled, before bending down to peck her nose. She giggled, swinging their interlocked hands.

“You’re so full of yourself, you poohead,” she laughed while pushing him playfully.

“That’s why you love me,” he returned sunnily, and that was all I could take. I mumbled an excuse, and ran out the door.

Those lines reminded me too much of how my heartbreak all began.

***

“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” she breathed, her words tumbling out in a nervous rush. I smiled wholeheartedly at her.

“I mean, I’m so nervous! But I’m so excited at the same time,” she admitted, continuing to blabber on. “And, I really missed you,” she whispered, smiling wistfully. “Right, bestie?”

“You look beautiful. He’s a lucky guy,” I finally responded, patting down my bridesmaid dress. It was a pretty number that matched the simple event perfectly. But she was the lucky one.

She beamed.

“I love him so much,” she said dreamily. I bit my lip.

“I know.”

I do too.

“Thanks for being here,” she said again, her dainty, white-gloved hand on my shoulder. “And thanks for being my best friend. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

No matter how I felt, I couldn’t bring myself to hate her.

“That’s what best friends are there for.”