Chapter 3

Maya helped Ethan out of the ER, her arm linked through his.

The gesture felt performative.

As they reached the exit, Leo was waiting by his vintage convertible, looking impatient.

"Took you long enough," Leo said, then his eyes landed on Ethan. His smile faded.

"Who's this?" Leo asked Maya, his tone cool.

Maya's grip on Ethan's arm tightened for a second.

"Oh, this is Ethan," she said, her voice a little too casual. "A... a good friend. He wasn't feeling well."

A good friend. After five years.

The words, though expected, still stung.

He remembered all the times she'd insisted on secrecy, her excuses about Rick, about not wanting pressure.

It was never about Rick. It was always about Leo, about keeping her options open, about keeping her "practice boyfriend" in the background until the main event arrived.

The realization was a cold, hard knot in his stomach.

"Ethan Miller," Ethan said, extending a hand to Leo, forcing a polite smile.

Leo shook it briefly, his gaze appraising. "Leo Vance." His smile returned, a little forced.

"Hey, I'm heading to this little get-together at a friend's place," Leo said, turning to Maya. "Some musicians, very chill. You should both come."

Maya's face lit up. "That sounds amazing, Leo!"

She looked at Ethan, a silent command in her eyes.

He wanted to say no, to go home, to crawl into bed and never come out.

But Maya answered for him. "We'd love to!"

In Leo's car, Maya and Leo dominated the conversation, reminiscing about high school.

"Remember that awful band you were in, Leo?" Maya laughed. "The Screaming Gophers?"

"Hey!" Leo feigned offense. "We were ahead of our time."

"And that ridiculous song you wrote for me? 'Maya's Eyes'?" She blushed, a genuine, girlish blush that Ethan had rarely seen.

Ethan watched her, a silent observer of her undisguised affection for Leo.

This was her, unguarded, real. It was a side of Maya he'd never truly known, because it was never meant for him.

The pain was a dull, constant ache.

The party was at a sprawling loft, filled with artists and musicians.

Ethan found a quiet corner by a window, nursing a beer he didn't want.

Maya was immediately at Leo's side, fetching him a drink, laughing at his jokes.

"Leo's got her wrapped around his little finger, as usual," a guy with a guitar said to his friend, nodding towards Maya.

"She's been gone on him since sophomore year."

Maya glanced over at Ethan, a flicker of something – guilt? Apprehension? – in her eyes.

She quickly pulled out her phone. A message popped up on Ethan's screen.

*"Don't worry, babe. Everyone here knows we're just friends. Keeping up appearances for Rick, remember? ;)"*

He stared at the message, a bitter taste in his mouth.

Appearances. Their entire relationship was an appearance.

He didn't reply. What was the point? Their "us" was a lie.

A drinking game started, some complicated card game with forfeits.

Ethan, distracted and miserable, was the first to lose.

The forfeit was a shot of something fiery and unpleasant.

He picked up the small glass.

"Oh, Ethan, no! Let me take it for you!" Maya started to rise, her voice laced with concern.

"House rules, Maya," one of Leo's friends said. "Everyone takes their own."

Ethan met Maya's eyes briefly, then downed the shot in one gulp.

It burned all the way down.

A smattering of applause. He forced a smile.

A few rounds later, Leo lost.

Before anyone could say anything, Maya snatched the forfeit drink from the table.

"I'll take it for him!" she declared, downing it quickly.

Leo beamed at her. "My hero."

This pattern continued. Every time Leo was due a forfeit, Maya intercepted, drinking for him.

She was getting visibly drunk, her laughter louder, her movements less coordinated.

Ethan watched, a cold knot of realization tightening in his chest. This wasn't just about a game. This was her, showcasing her devotion.

Soon, Maya was swaying on her feet.

"I think... I need some air," she mumbled, stumbling away from the group.

Ethan followed her, finding her slumped against a wall in a dimly lit hallway.

She looked up as he approached, her eyes unfocused.

"Leo?" she slurred, reaching out for him. "Leo, I... I love you so much. I've always loved you."

The words, meant for another, hit Ethan like a punch to the gut.

She grabbed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong.

"I've been waiting for you, Leo," she continued, her voice thick with emotion and alcohol. "All these years... I've been practicing. Practicing how to be the perfect girlfriend. For you."

Practicing. The word echoed Chloe's from the rooftop party.

"I learned how to argue and make up, what gifts you'd like... even... even in bed, Leo. All for you."

Her confession, raw and unfiltered by alcohol, was a confirmation of his worst fears.

He was the understudy, the rehearsal.

His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Blood and flesh, it felt like, being torn apart.

He pulled his hand away, his own voice barely a whisper.

"Maya... what about me? What was I to you?"