Episode 1

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🌧️ If You’re Hurt, Then Be Gay

by maeve_

The rain outside whispered against the glass — soft, endless, and heavy, just like her heart.

Elliyah Zeihyra Aviriel Montefalco, or just Liyah, sat quietly on her bed. Her phone screen glowed faintly, showing a photo she had scrolled past a hundred times but never deleted.

It was her and him — smiling, hands intertwined, eyes full of promises that never lasted.

Now, even that smile felt like a knife pressed against her chest.

She pressed the power button and tossed the phone beside her pillow, sighing shakily. “Why does forgetting feel impossible?” she whispered to herself.

A low, teasing voice came from the doorway. “Because you keep remembering on purpose.”

Liyah looked up, startled.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was Rinaya — her best friend since middle school. Tall, boyish, with short layered hair that framed her handsome face. Even in a plain oversized shirt and black sweatpants, she had that kind of presence that drew the room’s attention.

Her white skin almost glowed in the dim bedroom light, and her deep brown eyes — calm, yet full of warmth — met Liyah’s tired gaze.

Liyah tried to smile. “You don’t get it, Rina. He was different.”

Rinaya pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “Different?” she asked quietly. “He made you cry for three nights straight. I heard you.”

“That’s not—” Liyah began, but her voice broke halfway.

Rinaya didn’t let her finish. She sat behind Liyah on the bed, gently pulling her into a back hug. Her arms wrapped securely around Liyah’s waist — firm enough to anchor her, soft enough not to scare her.

“Stop trying to act strong,” Rinaya murmured near her ear, her breath warm against her skin. “It’s okay to break sometimes. You’re human, Liyah.”

The words struck something deep inside her.

Liyah’s fingers curled around Rinaya’s forearm, trembling slightly. “Rina… what are you doing?”

Rinaya chuckled softly. “Comforting my best friend. Unless you don’t want me to?”

Liyah didn’t answer. She just… leaned back. Just a little. Into the warmth that felt like home.

Outside, the rain drummed softly against the window — steady, rhythmic, like the heartbeat she felt through Rinaya’s chest.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. There was no need to. The silence between them wasn’t empty — it was full of everything they couldn’t say out loud.

After a while, Liyah whispered, “Rina… why are you always here?”

Rinaya hesitated. Then quietly, she said, “Because I don’t want anyone else to hurt you again.”

Liyah blinked, startled by the honesty in her tone. “You make it sound like I’m fragile.”

“You are,” Rinaya said with a faint smile. “But that’s what makes you… you.”

Liyah turned slightly, her tear-streaked eyes meeting Rinaya’s. Those eyes — steady, deep, unshaken — looked like they were holding the world still for her.

“Someone like you?” Liyah asked softly.

Rinaya’s lips curved into that familiar boyish grin that always made Liyah’s stomach flip. “Exactly like me.”

Liyah laughed through the tears still clinging to her lashes. “Then maybe…” she whispered, voice trembling, “…if I’m hurt—then I’ll just be gay.”

Rinaya’s chuckle was low, but her eyes softened. She rested her forehead gently against Liyah’s.

“Good,” she whispered. “Then you’ll finally be mine.”

Liyah froze for half a second — surprised, flustered, but not afraid.

“Yours?” she echoed, her voice barely audible.

“Mine,” Rinaya repeated, this time with a smile that was half a joke and half a truth she’d been hiding for years.

The rain outside slowed to a drizzle. The air in the room felt warmer, lighter.

Liyah didn’t pull away. Instead, she closed her eyes and breathed in — the faint scent of Rinaya’s cologne, the warmth of her skin, the security of being seen and understood without words.

Her heart, which had been aching for days, finally felt something that wasn’t pain.

It felt safe.

It felt like Rinaya.

As Rinaya’s arms tightened slightly around her, Liyah realized that maybe love didn’t always have to start with a spark. Sometimes, it began in quiet rooms, between soft laughter and shared silence, in the arms of someone who never left.

“Thank you, Rina,” she whispered, almost too softly to hear.

Rinaya smiled against her shoulder. “You don’t need to thank me, Liyah. Just… stay.”

And for that night, Liyah did. She stayed — wrapped in the comfort of someone who had loved her all along, even before she knew what love really meant.

The storm outside faded. The world stilled.

And in that quiet moment, in Rinaya’s steady embrace, Liyah learned that sometimes, love doesn’t have to be loud.

It just has to stay.

---

Episode 2: The Morning After

by maeve_

The sun peeked lazily through the thin curtains of Liyah’s room, painting the walls with gold. The faint sound of birds outside didn’t match how heavy her chest still felt.

Liyah blinked awake, her head pounding lightly. She realized she had fallen asleep sitting up — still in her hoodie, still smelling faintly of rain.

And then it hit her.

The hug.

Rinaya’s arms.

That warmth.

Her heart started racing again.

She sat up quickly, cheeks flushing. “Oh my God…” she whispered, pressing her hands to her face.

Rinaya had hugged her.

Not just a normal hug — it was… something else.

It felt like comfort. But also like a confession.

Before she could think more, her phone buzzed.

> Rinaya: “Wake up, sleepyhead. I’m outside. You’ll be late again 😒.”

Liyah almost dropped her phone.

“Outside?!” she yelled to no one, jumping out of bed. She hadn’t even brushed her hair yet.

Five minutes later, she stumbled out the front door, bag half-zipped, hair a messy wave. And there Rinaya was — leaning casually against her motorcycle, uniform untucked, earphones in, looking effortlessly handsome.

“Morning, Montefalco,” Rinaya smirked, pulling out an earbud.

Liyah glared at her playfully. “You could’ve at least texted earlier!”

“I did. You just sleep like a corpse.”

“Excuse me?!”

Rinaya laughed, the sound so natural that it made Liyah’s chest flutter again.

She climbed onto the motorcycle behind her. As soon as she did, Rinaya reached back and handed her a spare helmet. Their fingers brushed — just a second — but Liyah’s heart skipped so hard she almost forgot how to breathe.

“Hold on tight,” Rinaya said, glancing over her shoulder with a grin.

Liyah blinked. “I—uh—I can just—”

Rinaya revved the engine. “You’ll fall if you don’t.”

Liyah hesitated, then slowly wrapped her arms around Rinaya’s waist.

Her heartbeat synced with the soft hum of the engine.

She could smell the faint scent of Rinaya’s cologne — subtle, warm, like coffee and rain.

And just like that, the world blurred. The wind brushed against her face as they sped down the street. She felt free… and safe.

---

At school, whispers followed them.

“Are they dating?”

“They’re always together.”

“Rinaya’s so cool, I swear…”

Liyah tried to ignore it, but the heat rising to her cheeks betrayed her. Rinaya didn’t seem to care — she just walked beside her confidently, one hand in her pocket, the other holding her books.

During lunch, they sat under their favorite tree near the field. Rinaya opened her bento box and glanced at Liyah’s untouched food.

“Still thinking about last night?” she asked casually.

Liyah almost choked on air. “W-What do you mean?!”

Rinaya tilted her head, smirking. “You were crying, remember? I just… didn’t want you to feel alone.”

Liyah’s voice softened. “Thank you, Rinaya. I… I really needed that.”

Something about the way she said Rinaya’s name — soft, sincere — made Rinaya’s chest tighten.

But instead of replying, she just smiled and looked away.

For a moment, silence.

Then a breeze passed — light, sweet, carrying the scent of cherry blossoms.

Rinaya broke it with a small laugh. “You know, Liyah… you look better when you’re smiling. Don’t waste that face crying over someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Liyah blinked, feeling warmth rise in her cheeks again.

Her heart whispered something she wasn’t ready to hear.

---

After class, they walked home together as usual. But this time, everything felt different. Every brush of Rinaya’s hand, every glance, every shared laugh — it all meant something new.

When they reached Liyah’s gate, Rinaya handed her bag back and said softly, “Hey… if you ever cry again…”

Liyah looked up. “Yeah?”

Rinaya gave her that same teasing grin — but her eyes softened.

“…call me. I’ll be there. Always.”

And before Liyah could respond, Rinaya patted her head, turned around, and walked away with her hands in her pockets — leaving Liyah standing there, heart racing, smile trembling.

As the sky faded to orange, Liyah whispered to herself,

“Rinaya… why do you make everything hurt and heal at the same time?”

Episode 3

by maeve_

The afternoon bell echoed through the hallways of St. Adriel Academy, and students flooded out of their classrooms like a wave of laughter and chatter.

Liyah gathered her things slowly. Her mind wasn’t on the math quiz they’d just finished — it was on Rinaya.

Ever since that morning ride, she couldn’t stop replaying it in her head.

The wind. The warmth. That voice.

“Hey, daydreamer.”

Rinaya’s voice pulled her back to reality. She stood by the door, leaning against the frame, looking effortlessly cool with her uniform sleeves rolled up and her bag slung over one shoulder.

“You coming or do I have to drag you out again?” Rinaya teased.

Liyah laughed softly. “You could’ve just said you wanted to hang out.”

“Maybe I did,” Rinaya said, grinning. “C’mon. I know a place that’ll make you forget your ex’s name.”

---

☕

They ended up at a small café tucked behind a row of bookstores. It was quiet, cozy — soft indie music played in the background, and the scent of espresso filled the air.

The owner smiled at them as they entered. “Same as usual, Rinaya?”

Rinaya nodded. “Yeah — and make her something sweet. She looks like she needs sugar.”

“Hey!” Liyah protested, cheeks puffing slightly.

Rinaya just chuckled, taking the seat across from her. “You do. You’ve been frowning all week.”

Their drinks came — iced caramel latte for Liyah, black coffee for Rinaya. Liyah took a sip and sighed. “Okay fine, this place is good.”

“I told you,” Rinaya said proudly.

For a while, they just sat there. No words, just comfortable silence and the soft hum of music. Liyah caught herself staring at Rinaya — the way her eyes softened when she smiled, the faint scar near her wrist, the calm confidence in her posture.

Her heart felt strange. Warm… but nervous.

“Rinaya…” she began quietly. “Why are you always doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being here. Taking care of me. Like it’s your job.”

Rinaya leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Maybe it’s because it is my job.”

Liyah blinked, confused. “Huh?”

Rinaya smiled faintly. “I mean, someone has to make sure you don’t fall apart.”

Before Liyah could reply, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Liyah?”

Her heart froze.

That voice — she knew it too well.

She turned around slowly and saw Eron, her ex. He was standing near the counter, holding a cup of coffee, looking just as surprised to see her.

“Oh,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Liyah forced a smile. “Yeah… me neither.”

Eron’s eyes flickered toward Rinaya, who was sitting calmly, but her expression had changed — colder, protective.

“New friend?” he asked.

Before Liyah could answer, Rinaya leaned back in her chair and replied, “Best friend.”

Then, with a sharp edge in her voice:

“And the one who picked up the pieces you left behind.”

The air tensed.

Eron looked taken aback. “Wow. You really moved on fast.”

Rinaya’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t move. Liyah could see her fists clenching under the table.

“Eron, stop,” Liyah said softly. “Just… don’t.”

Eron sighed. “Whatever. Good luck, Liyah.” And with that, he walked out.

The café felt quiet again. Too quiet.

Liyah lowered her gaze. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Rinaya shrugged. “He made you cry. I wasn’t going to sit there and let him talk to you like that.”

Liyah looked up, her eyes soft. “You always protect me.”

Rinaya met her gaze — and for a moment, something in her chest ached. She wanted to say because I love you. But instead, she said:

“Because someone has to.”

Silence again. But this time, it was heavy — not awkward, just full of words neither of them were ready to say.

Liyah smiled faintly. “You really are impossible, Rinaya.”

Rinaya grinned, hiding her emotions behind her teasing tone. “Yeah. But I make good coffee company.”

Liyah laughed quietly, the tension easing a bit. “That’s true.”

When they left the café, the sun was setting, painting the sky pink and orange. Liyah walked beside Rinaya, her fingers brushing lightly against hers — a touch so small, but it made Rinaya stop breathing for a second.

Neither of them said anything about it.

But both of them felt it.

The shift.

The quiet pull.

The start of something neither could ignore anymore.