Penultimate Chapter: So, What Does "Penultimate" Even Mean?

Neon sat across from Mark at their usual spot in the café. The hovering trays of steaming drinks floated nearby, casting soft glows on their table. She twirled her cup slowly, watching Mark’s expression carefully.

"Mark, I need to tell you something before we get any further into this conversation," she said, her tone steady but gentle.

Mark looked up, his face calm but his eyes flickering with the emotion he tried so hard to mask. "I figured. Go ahead."

Neon sighed. "I like Luke. I mean, I really like him."

Mark nodded, his lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile. "Yeah, I know."

"You… know?" Neon blinked.

"Neon, come on. I’ve been your friend for how long now? I see the way you look at him, the way he looks at you. Honestly, it wasn’t a hard guess."

Neon shifted in her seat, feeling both relieved and awkward. "Mark, I..."

He held up a hand to stop her. "Let me finish, okay? I needed to say how I felt because… I had to. For me. I couldn’t just keep it bottled up anymore. But that doesn’t mean I expected anything from you."

His voice softened. "I needed to close that chapter in my head. And I wanted you to know that no matter what, I’m still here. Always."

Neon felt a lump in her throat as she reached out and grabbed his hand. "Thank you, Mark. Really."

Mark chuckled, a single tear escaping down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away, smirking to cover the vulnerability. "Damn it, I promised myself I wouldn’t do the ‘single tear’ thing. Now I’m a cliché."

Neon couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, you’re totally a rom-com side character now."

Mark raised an eyebrow, his humor returning full force. "Excuse me, I’d like to think I’m the brooding anti-hero who secretly steals the show."

"Oh, for sure," Neon teased, grinning. "You’re the guy everyone roots for but ultimately gets dumped in the second act."

"Wow," Mark deadpanned. "Thanks for that uplifting perspective."

"But you do have killer hair," Neon added, playfully flicking at an imaginary strand.

Mark snorted. "If my hair’s my best feature, I’m doomed."

They both burst out laughing, the tension breaking like a dam. It felt good, light even, to share this moment of honesty wrapped in their usual humor.

The next day, Neon found herself with Luke at one of the open plazas. It was  area with market stalls and performers showing off futuristic tricks gravity-defying juggling, holographic animals, and laser light shows.

Luke was inspecting a bizarre gadget on a stand, while Neon casually leaned on a nearby railing, smirking.

"You do realize that thing looks like it’s one sneeze away from disintegrating, right?" she said, pointing at the object in Luke’s hands.

 "I’ll have you know, this is a rare collector’s item."

"It’s a literal rust bucket." 

"It’s vintage!" Luke argued.

Neon tilted her head, pretending to be thoughtful. "Ah yes, nothing says ‘modern aesthetic’ like tetanus."

Luke laughed, setting the gadget down. "Okay, maybe you have a point."

"You know I’m always right." 

"Sure, keep telling yourself that"

They continued strolling through city. At one point, they stopped at a stall selling neon-colored snacks. Luke grabbed one and held it out to her.

"Try this," he said.

Neon eyed the glowing treat suspiciously. "Why is it glowing? Is it radioactive? Am I going to get superpowers if I eat it?"

"Only one way to find out."

Neon took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before grimacing. "Tastes like regret."

Luke laughed so hard he nearly dropped his own snack. "Told you it’s an acquired taste!"

Meanwhile, Mark was back at his apartment, sketching in his art pad. 

He had expected to feel devastated after confessing to Neon, but instead, there was a surprising sense of peace. Maybe it was because he had finally been honest, not just with her, but with himself.

Mark glanced at a half-finished piece on his desk, a chaotic swirl of colors that somehow felt like a reflection of his own journey.

In his art he also saw that he wasn’t pretending anymore.

He let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but he knew one thing he’d be okay.

After Mark’s confession, the week unfolded in a whirlwind of chaos and unexpected fun. The group seemed to collectively decide that this was the time to let loose, as if by some unspoken agreement to not let things get too heavy.

Ash and Layla became the unofficial chaos leaders, testing out a brand new hoverboard model that Ash swore was “engineered for optimal balance.” Layla, of course, immediately spun out of control, doing wide, uncontrollable loops in the air.

 “You’re doing great!” Ash yelled, “By great, I mean catastrophic, but hey, balance is overrated!” 

Layla was laughing so hard she almost crashed into a lamppost, which prompted Ash to yell, “Target acquired!”

Mark, on the other hand, decided to host a painting night at his place. But this wasn’t just any painting night it was a futuristic art session complete with levitating canvases and holographic paints. 

Luke, predictably, spent most of the time painting a truly terrible caricature of Ash that he titled Hoverboard Disaster 2077. Everyone laughed so hard that the painting ended up levitating right into the food replicator. Mark, meanwhile, created an intense piece full of fiery reds and golds, catching everyone's attention. 

Neon, glancing at it, “So, uh, this is a metaphor for your soul or something?” Mark just smiled and said, “No, it’s a metaphor for how bad Luke is at art.”

Not every moment was spent with the group. Neon and Luke started breaking off more often, finding little pockets of time to just… exist together. They explored a hidden garden where the flowers glowed in the dark and koi fish swam through the air in slow motion. Luke tried to feed them, but one of the fish went straight for his jacket pocket. “Seriously? This thing is a predator. It’s after my emergency snacks!” Neon doubled over laughing.

Another day, they stumbled across a retro diner. Neon immediately ordered the weirdest thing on the menu, which turned out to be something called the Pljeskavica. Luke watched with barely contained amusement as she took her first bite, her face contorting in disgust. “What… is this?” she choked out.

Luke, smirking, took the plate and tried it himself. “It’s not that bad,” he said. “You’re just uncultured. This is a classic!” Neon raised an eyebrow. “Right, classic garbage.”

One evening, the group decided to try a virtual reality escape room. Things were going fine until the AI assistant, a floating holographic head with a too-perfect smile, announced, “You are not alone.” Everyone froze, and Ash glanced at Luke, who looked unusually tense. “He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?” Luke whispered. As the group turned to see a towering hologram of a robot assassin, Layla shouted, “Okay, who programmed this thing? I want a refund!”

The week wasn’t all jokes, though. Mark spent a lot of time working on his art, often with heavy metal blasting in the background. One night, while painting, he found himself thinking about Neon and how things had shifted between them. He wasn’t bitter, though. If anything, he felt… lighter. 

Toward the end of the week, Mark decided to grab coffee with Neon. He’d been thinking about this moment, running through what he wanted to say a hundred times in his head, but when it came down to it, the words spilled out naturally.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” he said as they sat down. Neon raised an eyebrow. “Coffee? Or awkward post-confession talks?”

“Both,” Mark said with a small smile. “I just… I wanted to tell you about Luke. I’ve seen the way you look at him, and honestly? I think he feels the same way about you. I needed to get my feelings out there, but I also need you to know that I’m okay. You and Luke? You’re gonna be fine.”

Neon looked at him, her usual sarcastic smile replaced by something softer. “Mark…”

“I’m serious,” he said, cutting her off. “You don’t have to tiptoe around me. I’m rooting for you guys.” He leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. “Besides, someone’s gotta keep things interesting around here, and it’s definitely not me.”

Neon smirked, the familiar spark returning to her eyes. “You’re not wrong. You’re like, the third funniest person I know.”

“Third? Wow, I’m honored. Who’s second?”

“Luke.”

“And first?”

“Me, obviously.”

Mark laughed, “Obviously.”

The rest of the coffee date was filled with banter, the heaviness of the earlier conversation melting away.

Later that night, while the group hung out at the overlook, Luke and Neon found themselves standing apart from the others, the city glowing beneath them. Luke turned to her, his voice soft. “You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you.”

Neon raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You mean someone with impeccable taste?”

“Exactly,” Luke said, smiling. Then his expression turned serious, his gaze locking with hers. “But also… someone who makes everything better just by being there.”

For once, Neon didn’t have a comeback. She just looked at him, her heart pounding in her chest, as the city lights reflected in his eyes.