The biting mountain wind whistled through the ruins of Peak, but Kelly barely felt the chill. She was looking down at the oversized, bright yellow hoodie pooling around her wrists. It belonged to Maxim.
Just minutes ago, after a gruelling firefight that left them as two of the last squads standing, he had practically forced it over her head, laughing his usual breathless laugh and telling her she looked better in it anyway.
Kelly gripped the fabric, her heart doing that familiar, stupid flutter. Only if you knew, Maxim, she thought. Only if you knew how much I love you.
How much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she
Walks by
A sharp rustle in the nearby bushes made Kelly instinctively raise her shotgun. But Maxim didn’t draw his weapon. Instead, his entire demeanor shifted. The restless, energetic boy who couldn’t sit still for a second suddenly went completely rigid.
Kelly lowered her gun, following his gaze.
Emerging from the treeline was Moco. She was adjusting her cyber-goggles, her vibrant, neon-green and purple hair catching the faint evening light. She moved with an effortless, cool confidence, completely unbothered by the chaos of the battleground around them.
Kelly watched Maxim. His eyes softened, a helpless, doting smile spreading across his face. The look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated adoration. It was a look he had never, ever given Kelly.
What a sight for sore eyes
Brighter than a blue sky
She’s got you mesmerized while I die
Moco caught sight of them and waved, flashing a brilliant, tech-savvy grin.
“Hey, lightning girl. Hey, greedy,” Moco called out smoothly, jogging over to their camp. She was smart, stunning, and indispensable to any team. A true sight for sore eyes.
“Moco!” Maxim’s voice pitched higher, practically tripping over his own boots as he scrambled to his feet to greet her.
He immediately began offering her the best loot from his backpack — medkits, equipment, high-tier ammo — everything he had spent the whole match gathering.
Kelly sat quietly on a wooden crate, the yellow sweater suddenly feeling suffocatingly heavy. She felt a familiar, sharp ache tearing through her chest. It was a slow, miserable kind of death, watching the boy she loved be utterly mesmerized by someone else.
Why would you ever kiss me?
I’m not even half as pretty
You gave her your sweater, it’s just polyester
But you like her better
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“Brr, it’s getting freezing out here,” Moco muttered, rubbing her arms as she looked over a holographic map on her wrist.
Without a second thought, Maxim looked back at Kelly. There was a brief, apologetic flicker in his eyes. “Hey, Kelly… do you mind if I borrow that back for a second?”
Kelly’s breath hitched. She looked at Maxim, then at Moco. Moco hadn’t asked for it. Moco didn’t even know the history of the sweater. But Maxim wanted her to have it.
“Yeah. Sure, Max,” Kelly said, forcing her voice to stay light and bubbly, the perfect mask of the athletic, carefree best friend. She pulled the yellow hoodie off, instantly feeling the harsh bite of the Bermuda wind against her tank top.
Maxim took it, turning around to gently drape it over Moco’s shoulders. “Here. Can’t have our best hacker freezing,” he said softly.
Moco blinked, surprised, and then smiled warmly. “Thanks, Maxim. It’s cozy.”
It was just polyester. A simple, bright yellow piece of clothing. But as Kelly watched Moco wear it, she realized it didn’t matter what she did. She could run the fastest, she could protect Maxim in every match, but she would never be Moco. She wasn’t even half as pretty, half as brilliant, or half as captivating in his eyes. He just liked her better.
The final circle was closing in, and the sound of distant gunfire reminded them that the match wasn’t over. Moco pointed towards the safe zone, calling out a tactical route, and Maxim immediately followed her lead, standing close to shield her from any stray bullets.
Kelly fell into step a few paces behind them, her shotgun heavy in her hands. She watched the two of them walking side by side, Moco swallowed up in the bright yellow sweater that had belonged to her just moments ago.
Kelly didn’t hate Moco. In fact, she liked Moco — everyone did. Moco was wonderful. And that was the most painful part of it all. How could you hate someone who was completely faultless?
As they charged into the final battle, Kelly let out a quiet, shaky breath, her heart breaking in sync with her running steps.
I wish I were her.
