Rain Check on Feelings

Neon and Luke were still reeling from what they had witnessed. The image of Ash and Layla together, lost in their own world, was etched into their minds. As they walked through the city streets, rain began to fall, a soft drizzle at first, then heavier, as if the sky itself shared in their disbelief. Luke pressed a small button on his wristband, and a compact umbrella unfolded above them, shielding them from the rain.

"Can you even believe it?" Luke asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Layla and Ash. Together."

Neon, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue, couldn’t hide her excitement. "It’s unexpected, sure, but kind of amazing, don’t you think? I mean, Ash actually letting someone in like that it’s sweet." She smiled to herself, the rain glistening on her vibrant blue hair.

Luke raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. "Sweet, huh? More like unbelievable. Ash doesn’t exactly scream ‘relationship material.’"

Neon nudged him playfully. "Come on, Luke. You’ve got to admit, it’s kind of exciting. Who would’ve thought? The stoic Ash and the ever-dreamy Layla." Her voice carried a hint of admiration.

Before Luke could respond, Neon turned to him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how would you react if you caught me and Mark kissing?"

Luke’s expression froze for a moment, a mix of surprise and something else something harder to define. His response came quickly, almost too quickly. "Not positively," he blurted out.

Neon’s eyes widened at his answer. It wasn’t what she had expected, but it left a strange warmth in her chest. She studied his face, searching for meaning in his words. Did he say that because he cared more than he let on?

Luke cleared his throat, clearly trying to shift the focus. "Anyway, let’s get you home before this rain gets any worse." His voice was steady, but Neon couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his reaction than he was letting on.

As they reached Neon’s building, the rain softened to a gentle drizzle, the world around them muted and serene. Neon turned to Luke, her expression softer now. "Thanks for walking me home. I really had fun tonight."

Luke nodded, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something more vulnerable. "Yeah, me too. It was… nice. Exciting, even." His lips quirked into a small smile, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged with unspoken things.

"See you soon?" Neon asked, her voice hopeful.

"Definitely," Luke replied. As Neon disappeared into her building, he stood there for a moment, the rain soaking his shoes, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

A week had passed since the funeral, and Mark was finally beginning to feel like himself again or at least, like some version of himself. The pain of losing his father hadn’t dulled, but he had grown used to carrying it, like a heavy coat he couldn’t take off.

The world had moved on, as it always did. People laughed, worked, loved, and lived, oblivious to the loss that weighed on him. His friends hadn’t asked many questions; he hadn’t told them about his father’s passing. Not because he didn’t trust them, but because he didn’t know how to begin.

That morning, Mark decided it was time to rejoin them. The café where they often met was bustling with life, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods wafting through the air. He spotted Neon and Luke sitting in their usual booth, their laughter a bright contrast to the quiet ache in his chest.

As he approached, Neon waved him over, her smile wide and welcoming. "Mark! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

He slid into the booth, his expression neutral but his heart lighter already. "Traffic," he said simply. It wasn’t much of an excuse, but it was enough.

Luke studied him for a moment, his gaze steady. "You doing okay?"

Mark shrugged, reaching for the menu. "Fine."

Neon leaned forward, her eyes narrowing playfully. "You missed all the drama. Ash and Layla together! Can you believe it?"

Mark raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Really? Ash? I didn’t think he had it in him."

"Neither did we," Luke chimed in, his smirk returning. "But Neon’s been buzzing about it all week."

Neon rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. "It’s big news, okay? Don’t pretend you’re not intrigued."

Mark chuckled, the sound surprising him with its authenticity. For the first time in days, he felt a little more like himself.

The conversation flowed easily, weaving between trivial updates and shared memories. Neon recounted her upcoming modeling shoot, complete with exaggerated impressions of her stern manager. Luke shared stories from his Ballyball matches, his competitive streak shining through.

For a while, they were just three friends, laughing and teasing each other, the weight of the world forgotten.

But eventually, Neon excused herself to grab another round of drinks, leaving Mark and Luke alone.

Luke leaned forward, his tone dropping. "Seriously, Mark. What’s going on? You’ve been... distant."

Mark hesitated, his fingers tracing patterns on the edge of the table. The words felt heavy, but he knew they needed to be said. "My dad passed away," he admitted quietly.

Luke’s eyes widened, shock and concern flooding his features. "Mark, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us?"

Mark shrugged, his voice even. "I didn’t know how. And honestly, I didn’t want to burden you guys."

Luke shook his head. "We’re your friends. That’s not a burden, that’s what we’re here for."

Mark met his gaze, and for the first time, he let some of the walls around his heart crack. "Thanks, Luke. I appreciate it."

When Neon returned, she sensed the shift in the atmosphere. "What’s with the serious faces? Did I miss another staring contest?"

"Mark won," Luke said with a faint smirk, diffusing the tension.

Neon placed the drinks on the table and slid into the booth. "Well, I demand a rematch. Next time, I’m bringing my A-game."

The laughter that followed wasn’t forced; it was real, a testament to the bond they shared.

That evening, as they left the café, the rain had started again, a light mist that softened the city’s harsh edges. Neon, Luke, and Mark walked together, their footsteps in sync, their conversation easy.

At one point, they passed by an old retro holographic record store, its neon sign flickering in the rain. Neon stopped, her eyes lighting up. "We have to go in! They might have that holo album I was talking about."

Mark and Luke exchanged a glance, both knowing she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Inside, the store smelled of dust and nostalgia, the walls lined with holo vinyl records and faded holo posters.

Neon darted from shelf to shelf, her excitement infectious. Luke leaned against a display, watching her with a small smile. Mark, meanwhile, found himself drawn to a section labeled "Classics." He flipped through the records, his fingers pausing on one that his father used to play a jazz album with a worn digital cover.

He stared at it for a moment, the memories flooding back: his father humming along to the music, the way he’d tap his foot to the beat. Without thinking, Mark saved the  holo record and also tucked it under arm.

"Find something?" Neon asked, appearing beside him.

"Yeah," Mark said, his voice soft. "Something my dad loved."

Neon’s smile was gentle. "You should get it. Play it."

Mark nodded, and for the first time, the idea didn’t feel so overwhelming.

As they left the store, the rain had turned to a drizzle again. Neon held the physical copy of album she’d bought above her head like a makeshift umbrella, her laughter ringing out as Luke tried to grab it.

Mark trailed behind, watching his friends with a faint smile. The ache in his chest was still there, but it felt lighter somehow. He wasn’t alone not entirely. And for now, that was enough.