Shattered Bonds

EPISODE 27

Drake held himself together—until school ended. Then, as Jersey drove them home, everything inside him crumbled. His breathing became ragged, his vision blurred, and his chest ached with something he refused to name.

Jersey noticed immediately and pulled the car over. “Alright, what the hell is going on?”

Drake clenched his fists in his lap, his knuckles turning white. “I saw him,” he whispered. “Kissing Nathan. At the rooftop.”

Jersey’s jaw tightened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Drake let out a shaky laugh. “I wish I was.”

Jersey’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “Tristan is an i***t. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Drake exhaled sharply and rubbed his eyes. “Then why does it still hurt like hell?”

Jersey’s expression softened. He reached over, pulling Drake into a tight hug. “Because you care too much. But listen to me—don’t waste your tears on him. If he’s too stupid to realize what he has, that’s on him.”

Drake clung to Jersey for a few moments, letting the warmth of his friend’s embrace calm him. Eventually, he pulled away and exhaled deeply. “Can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Of course.”

Jersey called Drake’s mom, reassuring her that Drake was fine before driving home. The moment they arrived, Drake avoided Jersey’s sister and brother-in-law, heading straight to Jersey’s room. He took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the lingering ache in his chest before collapsing onto the bed, lost in thought.

Was Tristan falling for Nathan? Was it a mistake? Did it even matter anymore?

“Stop overthinking,” Jersey said as he walked out of the bathroom, rubbing his damp hair. “If Tristan really wants you, he’ll prove it. And if he doesn’t—”

Drake sighed. “Then I’ll have to move on.”

Jersey nodded. “Exactly. You don’t have time to wait around for someone who isn’t sure about you.”

Drake closed his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just go to bed.”

But even as he said it, he knew sleep wouldn’t come easily that night.

---

Tristan has been restless. He called Drake multiple times, but each time, it rang out without an answer. His fingers hovered over the call button again, but he sighed, dropping the phone onto his bed. Maybe Drake needed time. Maybe he was hurt more than Tristan had realized.

A soft knock on his door made him turn. Nathan stood there, looking hesitant, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. His eyes held a mix of guilt and worry.

"I'm sorry, Tristan," Nathan murmured, stepping inside. "I swear, I’ll talk to Drake so he won’t misunderstand you. I’ll make him understand that it wasn’t your fault."

Tristan looked at his best friend, and something twisted in his chest. Nathan and Drake were the two people he never wanted to hurt, yet somehow, he'd ended up doing just that.

Without a word, Tristan walked up to Nathan and pulled him into a hug. He felt Nathan stiffen for a second before his body melted into the embrace, his fingers curling into the back of Tristan’s shirt.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Tristan whispered, his voice tight with emotion.

Nathan shook his head against Tristan’s shoulder, but then his body trembled, and suddenly, his breathing turned uneven. "I swear I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and Drake, Tris," Nathan choked out. "I didn’t mean to mess things up. I was just—I was selfish for a second, and I—"

Tristan tightened his grip, feeling his friend break apart in his arms. "Shhh, it’s fine, Nate. I know you didn’t mean to, okay? It’s okay now. Just breathe. I got you," he soothed, running a hand over Nathan’s back.

Nathan took several deep breaths, his sobs eventually subsiding. They sat down on Tristan’s bed, and Nathan wiped his face roughly with his sleeve.

"You’re important to me, Tristan," Nathan murmured, his voice still shaky but firmer now. "I won’t make you choose between me and Drake because I—I can’t do that to you. I care about you too much to put you in that position." That’s not fair to you. I’d rather take the pain myself than put you in that position.”

Tristan swallowed hard, his chest feeling both heavy and relieved at the same time. "You’re important to me too, Nate," he said softly.

“Just promise me one thing,” Nathan interrupted, meeting his gaze. “Confess to Drake. Don’t let your doubts stop you. Don’t let your past hold you back. Because if you do, someone else might step in and take him away.”

Tristan studied him carefully. "Will you be okay?"

Nathan smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As long as you’re happy, then I’m happy too. That’s enough for me.”

That sealed it.

Tristan pulled him into another hug. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for not making me choose. I couldn’t stand losing either of you."

---

The next day at school

Nathan didn’t hesitate. As soon as he spotted Drake in class, he walked up to him and said, "Can we talk?"

Drake looked at him for a moment before nodding, and they stepped outside into the hallway.

Nathan exhaled sharply, leaning against the wall. "I won’t beat around the bush. I know you know what’s up."

Drake folded his arms, his expression unreadable. "Go on."

Nathan looked him straight in the eye. "I was the one who kissed Tristan. Not the other way around."

Drake's fingers twitched slightly, but he said nothing.

Nathan pressed on. "I think I do have feelings for my best friend," he admitted, his voice steady. "But my best friend has feelings for someone else. And that person is you, Drake."

Drake’s breath caught.

"Yes," Nathan continued, "you heard me right. Tristan is in love with you. But he’s scared. His last relationship left him with doubts, fears, a lot of ‘what ifs.’ And knowing him, he’s overthinking everything instead of just acting on his feelings."

Drake opened his mouth, then closed it. His mind was reeling. Tristan… in love with him?

Nathan gave a small smirk, though there was sadness in his eyes. "You like him too, don’t you?"

Drake didn’t deny it.

"Then what the hell are you waiting for?" Nathan demanded. "If he’s taking too long to make a move, why don’t you? Assure him. Prove to him that you’re not his ex. That you won’t leave him like his ex did. That you’re different. That you’ll stay."

Drake swallowed hard, his pulse racing. He didn’t expect this—didn’t expect Nathan to just hand him the truth so openly.

"What about you?" Drake finally asked, his voice quieter.

Nathan smiled, this time a little more genuine. "As long as Tristan’s happy, I’ll be happy too. It doesn’t matter who he’s with. Just let him be happy, and I’m satisfied."

He clapped a hand on Drake’s shoulder. "So go get your man. And… I wish you guys the best."

And with that, Nathan walked away.

Drake stood there, speechless.

---

That whole day, Drake had been in a ridiculously good mood. His energy was different, lighter. Jersey noticed it immediately.

"Alright, spill it," Jersey said, nudging him during lunch.

Drake grinned. "Tristan likes me."

Jersey raised an eyebrow. "No s**t, Sherlock. Took you long enough to figure it out."

Drake laughed, feeling something in his chest loosen.

Jersey let out a whistle. “Damn. So what now?”

Drake smirked. “I’m going to make my move.”

Later that evening, Drake told Jersey to head home since he still had basketball practice.

"Who’s taking you home?" Jersey asked.

"Tristan."

Jersey smirked. "Go, dude. Go get your man."

---

After practice, in the locker room.

Drake was wiping his face with a towel, pretending he didn’t notice Tristan stealing glances at him. He’d noticed it the entire practice session—Tristan’s eyes constantly drifting his way, filled with something between hesitation and longing.

As the team packed up, Drake walked past Tristan without a word.

Tristan froze.

Then, just when he thought Drake was going to leave without saying anything, Drake halted in the doorway.

"Aren’t you going to give me a ride home?"

Tristan’s head snapped up.

Drake didn’t wait for an answer. He just kept walking, and after a second of stunned silence, Tristan rushed after him.

---

The drive was silent.

Tristan gripped the wheel tightly, sneaking glances at Drake, his mind racing with a thousand things to say. But before he could find the words, they arrived at Drake’s house.

Drake got out.

So did Tristan.

But before Tristan could say anything, Drake turned and walked right up to him, pressing him against the car.

Then, he kissed him.

Hard.

Tristan gasped, hands grabbing onto Drake’s arms as his lips were claimed with such intensity that he forgot to breathe.

When Drake finally pulled back, his voice was low, firm, and filled with emotion. "I’m in love with you, Tristan. And it’s been that way for over a year."

Tristan stood there, heart pounding, completely floored. Wasn’t he supposed to be the one explaining things?

Drake frowned. "Say something, Tristan."

Tristan didn’t say anything.

Instead, he surged forward and kissed Drake—this time, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into it.

When they broke apart, Tristan smiled softly. "I love you too, Drake. Please… date me. Be my boyfriend, okay?"

Drake’s lips curled into a grin. "Yes."

Tristan beamed. He hugged Drake tightly, then twirled him around, making Drake laugh.

"You’re my boyfriend, right?" Tristan asked, grinning.

Drake giggled. "Yes."

"We’re dating now, right?"

"Yes, Tristan!"

"That means we’re boyfriends now, right?"

Drake burst out laughing. "YES!"

Tristan whooped, hugging him even tighter. And then, with a playful smirk, he kissed his boyfriend again.

They were finally together.