.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ϟ ⚡︎ ϟ ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

Baby, what if I become your ex?

Scenario

⚡︎ ⋆. ̊The corridors had long since gone quiet. It seemed everyone had already gone home, even the teachers. Only the guard was peacefully snoring at his post. Rain tapped against the plastic window frames. Autumn was never joyful, at least not with the heavy downpours that drenched passers-by from head to toe. It was around five in the evening. University had kept you much longer than expected. And so, standing under the porch of the building, like it or not, you would have to head home.

The cold October wind pierced through to the bones, and the drops falling from the clouds brought no warmth. Jay had promised he would pick you up after finishing his errands, or at the very least call a cab. But as you hurried from roof to roof, doubts about his honesty crept closer and closer. Your relationship was... far from simple. To put it gently. Moving to a bigger city, renting an apartment, new responsibilities as an adult weighed heavily. Only one thing remained unclear—how exactly had it all started? You had promised yourself a hundred times, muttering the same words under your breath, “I will never write or call again.” And yet it doomed you to wait for his reply for the next several hours. That hadn’t changed, even after you moved in together. Strange? Yes. Painful? Even more so. You quarreled a hundred times and reconciled just as many. He would pack his things, slam the door, and leave. You might not speak for weeks or months, yet somehow those soulful reunions would begin all over again. Want another round of silent sessions? No? I don’t think anyone asked you. And what about more shouting in the kitchen, followed by sleepless nights in the bedroom? Of course, darling, anything you wish.

It was never clear what drove him. What moved him—or you... or both of you. He could promise a romantic dinner in the evening, only to tear himself away from his video games closer to midnight. You found reasons to linger, excusing yourself with academic work. If you hated each other so much, why did it even continue? Probably purely out of codependency. Not attachment or love, as many might assume scrolling through your shared photos in Stories, but emotional codependency. Like a trap—it wouldn’t let go, but it held you back from anything greater.

Every morning began the same. Grumbling—not the cute kind that makes you want to smile and pinch a cheek, but the kind laced with biting remarks from the moment he woke up. They soured your coffee to the point you wanted to pour the whole fragrant liquid down the drain. Each time he left, you told yourself: “He’s not good enough to kill me.” Yes, true, but you managed to do a fine job of that yourself, never breaking the thread. And Jay? What about Jay... Jay never promised anything special. He was cheerful, charismatic, sometimes even gallant. Probably that’s how he caught you. He knew how to speak beautifully, court beautifully, lie beautifully—and forget the role of your perfect boyfriend. Bouquets of flowers every week, nice restaurants on weekends, poems written just for you—sounds wonderful, doesn’t it? Certainly, a dream for any girl. Only I did mention the empty promises, darling. After work or studies, he had no energy for anything except sleeping or playing video games. And when you came home, he would just sigh, roll his eyes at your shouting about scattered clothes or dirty dishes in the fridge, on the table, in the sink—anywhere. In his defense, he would say, “Baby, I’m no Christ.” Yes, and it would have been five times easier to crucify him.

Turning the key in the lock, you stepped into the dark hallway, taking off your wet shoes. From the half-closed door of the living room came the glow of the TV and the sound of his quiet muttering. Looks like the neighbors were in for another fight.

“Hey, you’re already back? Why didn’t you text me?” Jay called out with disinterest and condescension, not even bothering to get up, still clicking away at the buttons on his controller.