Something About Us

2 PM, Rhys' Room

Jess leaned against the window frame, stretching his arms above his head, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Hey, looks like we've got a new neighbor."

Rhys pushed himself up from the bed, the springs groaning beneath him. He set his notebook, filled with scribbled lyrics, aside and joined Jess at the window. Sure enough, a moving van was parked outside the house next door.

"I don't think the family living there has moved out, though," Rhys mused. "Maybe a relative's moving in?"

Before Jess could respond, there was a knock followed by the door swinging open.

Dave bounced onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Mrs. Go's niece is moving in. Helping with the baby, you know? Emmett's helping her with the boxes." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, and Emmett's already checking her out."

Jess threw an arm around Dave's shoulders. "Ah, so the youngest has already taken a peek, huh? What's she like?"

"Haven't seen her yet," Dave shrugged. "We'll find out when Emmett gets back."

Rhys continued to stare out the window, processing the news. Just then, the moving van started to drive off. As it did, a young woman—probably Mrs. Go's niece—darted out from the house, waving down the driver. She opened the passenger door, grabbed a pink cap, and popped it on her head, offering a quick bow of thanks.

She was dressed casually in a loose white shirt and denim shorts.

When she looked up and seemed to notice Rhys' gaze, he instinctively smiled and waved, expecting a similar gesture in return. But to his surprise, she simply turned and walked inside without acknowledging him.

A few seconds later, Emmett stepped out of the house and waved the woman off before catching Rhys' eye and giving him a thumbs-up.

Go Family's House

Books overflowed from cardboard boxes, threatening to consume the small room. Marjorie threw up her hands, a mix of exasperation and amusement. "Oh my! All I see are books! Where are your clothes?"

Heather grinned, a stack of worn paperbacks balanced precariously in her arms. "Because I own more books than clothes, Aunt Maggie. And the clothes I have are already in the dresser." She opened the last box and pulled out another set of books. "Speaking of which, where should I put these?"

Marjorie set the tray she was holding on the bedside table and offered Heather a glass of juice. "If I'd known you were bringing so many books, I'd have bought more shelves."

Heather took a gulp of juice before continuing to arrange the books.

"Heather, darling, once you're done, take a bath. Your uncle just texted and said he's on his way home," Marjorie said, giving her niece a knowing look before leaving the room.

After another 20 minutes of unpacking, Heather finally finished arranging her books. She slipped the ones that didn't fit on the shelves under the bed and collapsed onto the mattress, exhausted. The mattress welcomed her weary body, and she sank into it, the promise of ten minutes of rest a siren call. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and the room faded into a soft, dark blur.

When Heather opened her eyes again, it was already dark. Glancing at her phone, she saw it was 10:48 PM.

"Ugh, so much for 10 minutes," she groaned, sitting up and stretching. She turned on the bedside lamp and headed for the bathroom to take a quick shower.

After a long, hot day of unpacking, the cool water felt like a relief. Wrapped in her robe, Heather went downstairs to find her aunt still awake. The kitchen lights were on, and she figured Marjorie was waiting for her.

"You're awake," Marjorie said with a smile. "I tried waking you earlier, but you were out cold. Your uncle's already home, by the way."

"Sorry, just tired from all the unpacking," Heather said, rummaging through the fridge for leftovers and heating them in the microwave.

Marjorie laughed. "Yeah, I bet. You've got more books than clothes, after all."

As Heather ate, her aunt disappeared upstairs.

Rhys' Room – That Same Night

Rhys was about to switch off the light when a flicker of movement caught his eye. The neighbor's window, illuminated from within, revealed a silhouette. A woman, moving with a quiet grace. His breath hitched. He shouldn't be watching. He knew that. But his gaze lingered, drawn by an unseen force.

She rummaged through her closet, finally picking out a pair of pajamas. As she took off her robe, his heart pounded. A sudden, clumsy movement. His foot caught on the edge of a dumbbell, sending it clattering to the floor. The room echoed with the sharp, metallic clang, and he stumbled, falling back onto his bed with a muffled curse.

Heather, who had just finished changing, heard the sudden noise and turned her head toward the window, alarmed. The sound, sharp and unexpected, pierced the quiet of her room. Heather froze, her hand still on the doorknob of her closet. She turned, her gaze drawn to the window, a flicker of unease in her eyes.

Rhys, embarrassed, quickly closed his window to minimize any sound. He made sure it was shut tight. The glass was heavily tinted, preventing anyone from seeing inside.

Heather, after checking the window one more time to ensure nothing had fallen outside, sighed in relief and continued her routine.

The Next Morning

The morning air was crisp and cool, a welcome contrast to the warmth of her skin. Heather's feet pounded against the pavement, her breath coming in steady rhythm. The neighborhood, a tapestry of familiar and new, unfolded before her. As she jogged, memories from her childhood surfaced—especially a certain boy she had grown close to during her three-month stay with her aunt. She smiled, recalling how he would even stay over at their place sometimes. He had always talked about wanting to become a singer.

"I wonder if his dream came true," Heather mused. "I'll ask Aunt Maggie when I get home."

Back in the neighborhood, Rhys was heading to his favorite coffee shop when he saw her—Heather, looking radiant in her workout clothes, a smile playing across her face. Her skin glistened with sweat, accentuating her hourglass figure.

His heart hammered against his ribs. She's here. The woman from last night. The one he'd… He swallowed, the memory of the clumsy fall and the fleeting glimpse of her still burning in his cheeks.

'Ugh... if anyone saw me last night... I'd be labeled a creep for sure,' he thought, feeling his face heat up even more.

As he reached the door of the coffee shop, he was lost in his thoughts when it swung open with unexpected force, catching him squarely on the forehead. A sharp, stinging pain, and a startled yelp escaped his lips. "Aaaah!"

"Oh my god! Are you okay? I'm so sorry!" Heather's voice was full of concern as she quickly pulled his hands away to check on his injury. Her fingers, soft and warm, brushed against his forehead. "I didn't notice you were right there."

The redness on his forehead was minimal, but she looked genuinely worried.

"It's okay. Really, I wasn't paying attention either," Rhys mumbled, still flustered.

She seemed relieved, but before he could turn away, she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside the coffee shop.

"I insist, let me buy you a coffee as an apology."

Rhys hesitated, but with her hand still holding his, he followed her inside. He didn't have the energy to protest anymore.

"Thank you," Rhys said quietly as she handed him his drink.

"You're welcome." Heather's smile lit up her face, and it was infectious. He smiled back, but since he wore a mask, she couldn't see it.

"I'm Rhys," he introduced himself, feeling slightly awkward.

"Heather," she replied, shaking his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Just as they were about to part ways, Heather glanced at the clock. "Well, I better go. I have to babysit my nephew now. Take care not to bump your head again," she teased.

Rhys laughed. "Yeah, I'll try."

Back at the Go Family's House

Heather walked through the door, carrying a slight spring in her step.

"I'm home!" she called out.

"Welcome back! How was your jog?" her Aunt Marjorie asked, looking up from the kitchen.

"Great. Actually... I accidentally hit someone with the door on my way back from the coffee shop."

Her aunt gasped. "You hit someone with the door?"

"It was an accident!" Heather quickly corrected, her face flushing. She entered the kitchen, holding her nephew in her arms.

As Marjorie chuckled, Heather remembered the question she'd been meaning to ask her.

"...Aunt Maggie, remember when I stayed here before? There was a boy I got really close to... the son of your friend. Do they still live around here?"

Marjorie thought for a moment, a smile appearing on her face. "Well... they moved a year after you left, but we still keep in touch. He'll be joining us for breakfast."

Heather's eyes widened. "Really?" She got down from the counter and followed her aunt into the dining room.

As Marjorie placed her son in the crib, she smiled warmly. "Yes, he'll be here soon. Why don't you take a shower? You still smell like sweat."

Heather rolled her eyes, but nonetheless headed upstairs to freshen up.

As she finished her skincare routine and dressed for breakfast, she heard the doorbell ring downstairs.

"Almost done!" she called.

Marjorie answered the door. "Good morning, darling," she said, kissing Rhys on the cheek.

"Morning, Aunt Maggie," Rhys said, walking in.

Marjorie led him to the dining room, where Heather was just coming down the stairs. As soon as Heather saw him, recognition flickered in her eyes.

The same guy—the one she'd bumped into at the coffee shop earlier—was now standing in front of her, looking as casual as ever. His clothes hadn't changed: white sleeveless shirt, denim jacket, and dark jeans. But the beanie and mask were resting on the seat beside him, revealing a familiar face.

When Rhys looked up, their eyes met. A flicker of recognition, a spark of surprise. Heather's breath caught in her throat. It's him. The man from the coffee shop. The neighbor. The boy from her childhood.

She froze at the bottom of the stairs, her face flushed as she noticed his gaze lingering on her.

Her Aunt smiled knowingly. "You remember Heather, right? The little girl who used to follow you around when you were ten?"

Rhys blinked and gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I remember."

Marjorie added, "Well, she's staying here now. I hope you two can reconnect. After all, you're the only other person she knows in town."

Rhys nodded, his heart pounding as he tried not to let the awkwardness show. He looked over at Heather, but she quickly averted her gaze, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, a silent acknowledgment of the shared past and the awkward present.