The Muse Playbook

Chapter 5: Some Things Never Change

Mia tossed and turned on her bed, groaning in frustration.

She had been lying there for nearly an hour, staring at the ceiling, hugging her pillow, shifting positions every few minutes as if that would help shake off the thoughts circling in her mind.

But it didn’t.

Because all she could think about was him.

Haze Lagman.

That annoying, smug-faced i***t who always had something witty to say.

That boy from her past who, somehow, despite all her protests, still managed to creep into her thoughts even after all these years.

Mia rolled onto her stomach, pressing her face against the pillow. "Ugh. Why am I even thinking about him?" she mumbled to herself.

She knew exactly why.

The treehouse.

The memories.

And that moment.

She sighed, flipping onto her back, staring up at the ceiling as her mind dragged her back to earlier that day.

(Treehouse Scene)

Mia leaned against the wooden walls of the treehouse, her fingers absently tracing one of the old carvings they made as kids. The air smelled of dried leaves and wood—aged, but familiar.

Haze sat beside her, arms resting on his knees as he gazed at the view. From up here, they could see almost the entire compound—the Lagman mansion standing tall in the distance, the vast backyard stretching endlessly, and the quiet road where she had collapsed earlier from exhaustion.

Then her eyes landed on something.

A stick mounted on the far wall of the treehouse.

She smirked.

"Haze," she called, nudging his arm.

"Hmm?" He didn’t bother looking at her, still focused on the scenery.

"Do you remember when I hit you with that stick?" She pointed at the arnis stick on the wall, her lips twitching into a mischievous grin.

That made him snap his head toward her, eyebrows raising. Then, as if the memory physically hit him, he groaned.

"How could I forget? My arm was bruised for a week!"

Mia laughed, hugging her knees. "You deserved it! You stole my last piece of candy!"

"I was testing your reflexes," Haze said defensively, crossing his arms. "I was training you!"

"By stealing my food?"

"By making you fight back! And look, you succeeded." He gestured dramatically. "You almost broke my arm."

She snorted. "Good times."

Haze rolled his eyes but smiled. "I swear, you were so aggressive back then."

Mia turned to him with an unimpressed look. "Back then?"

He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "Fine, you still are. But admit it, we had fun."

She sighed, tilting her head back, letting the warmth of nostalgia settle between them. "Yeah. We did."

For a while, they just sat there, reminiscing.

Talking about the time Mia got stuck climbing up the tree and Haze had to push her up by her feet (which she never forgave him for).

The time they made a NO ADULTS ALLOWED sign and Mia's dad ripped it off when he caught them sneaking sodas up here.

The time Mia dared him to eat a whole chili, and he cried for twenty minutes.

The memories flowed so easily, like they were trapped in a bubble where the past and present blurred together.

Then, a comfortable silence settled between them.

The morning sun bathed the treehouse in soft golden light. The wind rustled the leaves.

Mia glanced at Haze from the corner of her eye.

Somehow, without her noticing, he had grown up.

The boy she once knew—the annoying, candy-stealing, trouble-making kid—was still there, but there was something else now.

Something deeper in his gaze.

A maturity that wasn’t there before.

She quickly looked away before he could notice her staring.

"Peppa," he suddenly said, breaking the silence.

She groaned. "Ugh. What."

He grinned. "Don’t fall for me."

Mia blinked, stunned for a second—then shoved him so hard he almost fell off the treehouse.

"You wish!"

Haze laughed, holding onto the edge for balance. "Just a friendly warning!"

She crossed her arms, scowling. "I’d rather hit you with that stick again."

But then, his grin faded a little, replaced by something unreadable.

"Actually…" Haze tilted his head, studying her. "There's a kissing scene in our play, right?"

Mia frowned. "Uh. Yeah? Why?"

"We should practice in advance."

Her heart stopped.

The world suddenly felt too small.

Too warm.

Too… intense.

Mia swallowed, the air thick between them.

.

Haze wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t laughing. He was just… looking at her.

And for some reason, the way he did made her breath hitch.

A strange, unexplainable feeling crawled up her chest—something terrifying. Something thrilling.

Her palms started to sweat.

"W-What are you saying?" Her voice came out weaker than she intended.

Haze’s gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second—so quick she wasn’t even sure if she imagined it.

Then, slowly, he leaned in.

The moment stretched into something agonizing. The air between them grew thick, charged with something electric, something dangerous. Mia’s heart slammed against her ribs so hard it almost hurt.

She could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his breath ghosting over her skin. Every nerve in her body tingled, her pulse hammering wildly in her ears, drowning out the rustling leaves and the distant chirping of birds.

She should say something. Move. Laugh it off. But she couldn’t.

Haze was close now—too close.

Her eyes darted to his lips, then back up to his dark, unreadable gaze. The way he was looking at her made her dizzy, like the ground beneath her had disappeared, leaving her suspended in midair.

Mia forgot how to breathe.

Her heart slammed against her ribs so hard it almost hurt.

What—wait—was he—

Was he actually going to—

She wasn’t thinking anymore.

And then, instinct took over.

She panicked.

Closed her eyes.

And waited.

But nothing happened.

Instead, the treehouse exploded with laughter.

Mia’s eyes snapped open, only to see Haze clutching his stomach, head thrown back as he laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world

"You—" she started, her voice shaking.

Haze pointed at her, still breathless from laughing. "Oh my God. You closed your eyes."

Her face burned.

"I—WHAT?!"

Haze smirked, shaking his head. "Damn, Peppa. You really wanted to kiss me, huh?"

Mia gaped at him, heat rushing to her face. "EXCUSE ME?!"

"I mean, your body just kinda… reacted, y'know?" He leaned back on his hands, grinning. "Like deep down, you wanted it. You sure you don’t have a thing for me?"

Mia stared at him, then at the space between them where she seriously thought he was going to kiss her.

Then, realization crashed into her.

That.

Absolute.

Bastard.

"You—" She grabbed the arnis stick from the wall and swung.

Haze barely dodged, still cackling. "Okay, okay! I take it back—"

"What the hell does kissing have to do with our play, you i***t?!" Mia fumed, throwing a nearby pillow at him.

"Method acting?" He smirked.

Mia threw another pillow.

Haze just laughed harder.

Some things never really change.

Mia groaned, shaking her head to rid herself of the memory.

"Ugh, why does it keep replaying in my head?" she muttered, turning onto her side.

She hugged her pillow tightly. Her room was quiet, only the distant sound of crickets outside filling the silence. The soft glow of her bedside lamp cast a warm hue over her walls, illuminating the faint posters and old photographs she had stuck up years ago.

It was her safe space. Her comfort.

And yet, for some stupid reason, she felt restless.

She shut her eyes.

I hate that guy.

She turned again.

I hate his stupid face.

And again.

I hate his stupid jokes.

Then, as if her mind enjoyed torturing her, she heard his voice again.

"Don’t fall for me."

Mia let out a strangled scream into her pillow, kicking her legs in frustration.

"Why the hell would I even fall for someone like him?!" she mumbled, rolling onto her stomach and hugging her blanket. "He’s annoying, he’s smug, he’s—"

Her words faded when she remembered the way he had looked at her.

Something she couldn’t explain.

Something that made her heart feel weird.

Mia shot up into a sitting position, grabbing a handful of her own hair.

"Nope. Nope. Nope," she whispered. "I refuse to entertain this thought."

A soft knock on her door made her jump.

"Mia, are you still awake?"

She quickly flopped back onto her bed, trying to act normal. "Yeah, Papa. What's up?"

Her father peeked in, a teasing smile on his face. "Just checking. You were grinning like a Cheshire cat. Dreaming about food again?"

Mia felt her cheeks warm. "No, just...memorizing the lines, acting."

Her dad chuckled. "Alright, just don’t stay up too late, okay?"

As soon as the door clicked shut, Mia buried her face into her pillow.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Why was she thinking about him so much?

And most importantly—

Why did she kind of like it?