Flashback Original ★

He opened his eyes. The bridge was still rusted. The river still churned. But something had shifted. He could still feel the ghost of Leo’s forehead kiss—warm, fleeting, real.

He pulled out his phone. The screen was wet, but it still worked. He scrolled past Leo’s contact—still saved, still un-deletable—and opened a new message to his boss: “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”

Instead, he said: “Let’s get coffee.” flashback original

Alex had inched forward. Not to the edge, but closer. Leo was the only person who could do that—pull him out of his own cautious orbit. They’d been friends since freshman year, a mismatched pair: Alex the accountant-in-training who color-coded his notes, Leo the art major who painted murals on abandoned buildings.

The rain was a baptism, cold and relentless, soaking through the thin fabric of Alex’s coat. He stood on the bridge where the old train tracks used to run, staring at the water churning fifty feet below. The city was a smear of wet lights behind him. He opened his eyes

Leo had laughed so hard he nearly lost his balance, and Alex had grabbed his jacket sleeve. For one electric second, their eyes met. Leo’s were the color of the river—deep green-brown, full of things unsaid.

“I’m serious about the job,” Alex had said. “It’s stable. It’s safe.” But something had shifted

“The fall’s better, too.”

He pocketed the phone and looked at the water one last time. For a moment—just a moment—he thought he saw a flash of movement at the river’s bend. A ripple that wasn’t wind. A shape that wasn’t a fish.