Tangled love

The End of a Fling

MIKE’S POV

I hated goodbyes.

Not the dramatic or the please don’t go kind. Those were easy to avoid. What I hated were the quiet ones. The ones that pretended to be casual while slowly cutting something loose.

Lena sat across from me at the outdoor café, sunglasses pushed into her hair even though the sun was already slipping behind the buildings. She stirred her iced coffee like she was bored, like this wasn’t the exact reason she’d asked me to meet.

“So,” she said, dragging the word out. “This is it?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.

“Yeah. This is it.”

She laughed, sharp and humorless. “Wow. Straight to the point. At least you’re consistent.”

I didn’t respond. There was no point pretending this was harder than it was. Lena and I had never been serious. We were convenient. Late nights. No questions. No expectations, just pleasure.At least, that’s what I told myself.

She studied me for a moment, her eyes narrowing.

“You’re really done with this whole… thing?”

“I start senior year tomorrow,” I said. “I don’t want distractions.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “Because you’re suddenly the focused type.”

I ignored that too. The truth was, I was done. Not just with Lena—but with the version of myself everyone seemed to know. The one who never stayed long enough for anything to matter. It was exhausting pretending I didn’t care.

Lena leaned forward. “Let me guess. There’s someone else.”

I shook my head. “No. There isn’t.”

She searched my face like she was trying to catch me in a lie, then leaned back again.

“You’re wasting your best years, you know.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I’m finally starting them.”

She rolled her eyes and stood, grabbing her bag. “Whatever, Mike. Don’t act like this is some big personal growth moment.”

True, but I don’t need her to remind me of that.

Without saying any other thing, she stood up and said

“You are going to regret this” and walked away angrily without looking back.

I watched her go, feeling… relieved. I tossed some cash on the table and left the café, hands shoved into my pockets as I headed across campus. The university buzzed with energy—freshmen dragging suitcases, parents giving last-minute lectures, friends reuniting like they’d survived something together.

Senior year.

The words felt heavier than they should have.

Everyone expected me to have it all figured out by now. Especially my parents.

Business degree.

None of it included paint-stained fingers or half-finished canvases hidden behind a locked studio door. I cut through the art building, pushing open a side door that led to the place that felt most like mine. The studio was quiet, sunlight pouring in through tall windows, dust floating lazily in the air.

This was where I could breathe.

I received a few texts from Riley still trying to confirm if I truly want to end the relationship. Ignoring the text, I slid my phone back inside my pocket, dropped my bag and stood in front of the canvas I’d left unfinished weeks ago. It was a mess of colors and shapes—nothing clear just My favorite kind.

I picked up a brush, letting my hand move without thinking. Strokes layered over each other, darker tones clashing with softer ones. Frustration bled into the paint. Fear. Anger. This—this—was what I wanted.

I stepped back, chest tight. I knew the fight was waiting for me at home. The disappointment. The lectures about responsibility and legacy. I knew how easy it would be to give in and live the life they wanted.

But for the first time, the idea terrified me more than failure.

I set the brush down. Tomorrow, classes will start. New students would arrive. I packed my bag and I went straight to my dorm. It's been a long day and I need to clear my head.

—*—*—*—*—

The phone buzzed again. Dad. I let it go to voicemail.A knock at the door saved me from spiraling further.

“Yo, Harrington! Open up, pretty boy!” George’s booming voice rattled the frame.

I smirked despite myself and opened the door.

George filled the doorway like a linebacker—because he basically was one—grinning wide, holding two iced coffees. Behind him, Luke leaned against the wall, already dressed like he was heading to a club at ten in the morning—designer shades, unbuttoned shirt, gold chain glinting.

“Morning, sunshine,” Luke drawled. “You look like death. Good thing we brought caffeine and a plan.”

I took the coffee George shoved at me. “Plan for what?”

“Big welcome-back party tonight at the house on Greek Row,” Luke said, strolling in like he owned the place.

I raised an eyebrow. “I’m good, man. I'm tryna be low-key this semester.”

George dropped onto my couch, making it groan. “Bullshit. You’ve been a ghost lately, Time to get back out there.”

“I’m not looking to get back out there,” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Contemplating whether to tell them about Riley or not.

“I finally ended things with Riley.” I voiced out after much thought.

They looked at each other with surprise.

“f**k yes! About time, man—We told you. She’s an attention seeker, always posting thirsty s**t, fishing for likes and lurking boys. She’s no good for you, man.” Luke said.

George nodded. “Told you, Mike. She’s a w***e. I hated her guts.”

I laughed, dark and short. “Yeah, you two have been on my ass. " Dump her, Mike. She’s toxic.’ I felt it today. Felt… free.”

Luke clapped his hands. “That’s my boy. Now, no more chick drama.

“And I’m not looking to get back out there,” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Riley’s still blowing up my phone. Last thing I need is another girl thinking we’re something.”

Luke waved a hand. “Then don’t lead anyone on. Just come drink, dance, remind everyone why you’re the king of this campus…. One night. For us?”

I sipped the coffee—black, bitter, perfect—and felt the familiar pull. These two idiots were the closest thing I had to a family here. George with his football dreams and zero filter. Luke with his endless energy and inability to take anything seriously. They did know about the paintings and how much I hated business lectures and they showed up—Always.

“Fine,” I said finally. “One party. But I’m not staying all night.”

George whooped. Luke grinned like he’d won the lottery.

“That’s the spirit,” Luke said. “Wear the leather jacket, Chicks dig it.”

I rolled my eyes but felt the corner of my mouth lift.