Frienimes

Present

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime. I step inside and exhale a breath I have been holding since eight this morning. After back-to-back script readings, marketing meetings, and endless contract signings, my entire body feels like it is shutting down. The fabric of my blouse sticks to my back, and exhaustion clings to my bones like a heavy coat I cannot shrug off.

Ping.

A message flashes across my phone screen.

Haru: I am waiting for you in the parking lot.

A small smile tugs at my lips. At least I can finally go home and rest. Surprisingly, Haru has no schedule this afternoon either. That almost never happens. His days are usually more chaotic than mine.

I lean my head against the cool metal wall. Whenever I am alone in these quiet moments, memories creep in. Unwanted. Uninvited. Persistent.

Today is no different.

My thoughts drift to Abby and Rei.

Once, they were my oxygen. We were a team. Haru, Abby, Rei, and me. Four rookies trying to chase the same neon-lit dream. I can still smell the old practice room—sweat, floor wax, and cheap takeout. We trained together, failed together, cried together, and eventually we debuted together. The company launched us as a unit in our first TV drama, almost as if they predicted our chemistry would explode online.

And it did.

We became viral overnight. Our friendship edits spread across social media, the drama hit record-breaking ratings, and everything felt too perfect. It was a fantasy we did not deserve.

But fantasies never last.

One scandal. One mistake. Everything we built shattered like glass on concrete.

Abby left first. He switched to a modeling-focused agency almost immediately. Rei could not leave like Abby. She is locked into a long-term idol contract with her group, Nova 4ever. Being an idol means every decision impacts the group, so she stays with Lumina Entertainment. Our company. A powerhouse filled with actors, idols, models, and bands.

After the fallout, Lumina practically rearranged the entire building to keep us apart. They switched schedules so we never ran into Rei. They even moved our offices to opposite ends of the floor, treating us like ticking time bombs who might claw each other's eyes out the moment we cross paths.

Years pass.

No calls.

No apology.

No explanation.

We went from family to strangers in the blink of an eye.

And somehow, that silence hurts more than the scandal itself.

I cannot help wondering if Abby and Rei got the same messages Haru and I received. That unknown number. Those cryptic threats. The way the texts send a cold shiver down my spine even in this warm elevator.

I press the button for the parking level. The elevator hums softly beneath my feet, carrying only me. It is always empty at 3 p.m., the weird hour when the building feels half asleep.

Ding.

The elevator slows. The doors slide open on the seventh floor.

My breath catches in my throat.

Rei steps in.

Her hair is tied up casually, her face bare except for a touch of peach lip tint. She wears loose jeans and a cropped hoodie. Simple. Effortless. Almost too normal. I am used to seeing her in glossy magazine shoots, blinded by stage lights, or perfectly edited in advertisements. Seeing her like this feels strange. Or maybe it feels strange because it has been so long.

I force my expression into neutrality. Acting unaffected is the only armor I have left. Still, my mind betrays me. It plays a rapid montage of our happiest moments. Late-night practice sessions. Laughing until our stomachs hurt. Sneaking snacks into the studio. The moments we thought would last forever.

The doors close, sealing us in.

Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating. The air smells faintly of her expensive floral perfume, a scent I used to know by heart.

Then she finally speaks.

“Did you get those messages?”

Her voice is calm. Mature. Almost unfamiliar.

For a second, I freeze. It has been years since she last spoke directly to me. I stare at the changing floor numbers above the door.

The elevator opens at the parking lot with a final ding. I step out, keeping my pace steady, pretending every nerve in my body is not buzzing with electricity. Rei follows closely. She knows the answer. She knows me too well. If I had not gotten those texts, I would have asked what messages. My curiosity never stays silent.

I walk to the black sedan in the corner spot. I slide into the passenger seat. The leather is cool against my legs.

Rei quietly enters the back.

Haru grips the steering wheel. He glances at us through the rearview mirror, his dark eyes narrowing as if he already predicted this outcome.

“Can I see the texts you got?” he asks. His voice is tight.

Rei hands her phone to him over the center console. The messages are identical to the ones we received.

“Did Abby get them too?” I ask. My voice feels too soft. Too hopeful. I hate that.

Rei nods. “He got them.”

Haru scoffs under his breath, bitterness dripping from his tone like acid. “Yeah, but he will not care enough to talk to us. Right?”

Rei does not argue. That silence is confirmation enough.

“Abby wants us to meet tomorrow,” she finally says. “At our usual spot. He wants to discuss everything together. What do you think?”

Haru and I exchange a look. It is a look filled with unsaid words, lingering pain, and reluctant acceptance. We nod.

Rei lets out a soft breath, almost one of relief. She opens the door and exits the car. She walks toward her own vehicle without another word. Moments later, her engine roars to life, and she drives away.

The car grows quiet.

Haru grips the steering wheel, jaw clenched. His emotions are louder than anything he could say.

It is not just the scandal.

It is the abandonment.

The years of pretending we did not exist.

The ache of missing people who did not miss us back.

And now they are reappearing in our lives because of a threat. A message from someone in the shadows. Someone who knows too much.