Jay-Jay's POV
The night in New York felt unusually still. Even the hum of the city outside my window seemed gentler, like the world was holding its breath.
I had been working late again—signing contracts, replying to investors, pretending I was fine—when a drawer handle snagged on my sleeve and came off its track. I cursed softly and bent down to fix it. That's when I saw it—tucked far in the back, wrapped in a fading pink cloth.
A small, dusty wooden box.
For a long second, I just stared. My heartbeat echoed in my ears. I didn't remember putting it there. But I knew exactly what it was.
I pulled it out slowly, brushing off years of still air. The carved letters on the top were faint but still legible: Section E.
My fingers trembled.
When I lifted the lid, a wave of memories hit me so hard it almost knocked the breath out of me.
Inside were fragments of another life—a photo of twelve smiling faces in mismatched uniforms; a pressed flower, still pale lavender; a folded piece of paper with faint doodles in Keifer's handwriting; and that bracelet. The thin gold one.
I ran my thumb over the bracelet's delicate chain, tracing each link like counting heartbeats.
And suddenly, I was seventeen again.
Flashback – Section E's last day-
The laughter of my classmates filled the corridor, bouncing off the pale walls like music we didn't want to end.
Ci-N was the loudest, of course—mocking Denzel for tearing up during the group photo while Rakki smacked him playfully on the shoulder. "Come on, man, it's just a photo! You're acting like someone died!"
Denzel sniffled, "It's the last day… it kinda feels like someone did."
Yuri rolled his eyes but smiled faintly, trying not to show it. "You two are ridiculous."
Eren and Edrix were arguing over who had eaten the last slice of pizza. "It was yours!" Eren protested.
"No, it was yours!" Edrix shot back.
Kit and Mayo were recording everyone with an old digital camera, shaking it around as laughter erupted.
Keifer was standing by the window, sunlight cutting through the curtain and hitting his hair in a soft glow.
"Jay-Jay!" Ci-N called, waving both arms like a kid trying to flag down an airplane. "We're taking one last picture! Come here!"
I ran to them, laughing, pretending not to feel the heaviness in my chest.
We all huddled close, the room buzzing with the kind of chaos only Section E could create. Someone—probably Felix—shouted, "Say Mutya!"
"Mutya!" we chorused, half yelling, half laughing, and the camera flashed.
For a moment, everything froze.
Then Keifer's hand landed on my shoulder. "You're still not smiling properly," he teased. "What's with the long face, Jay-Jay?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm smiling. You're just bad at noticing things."
He smirked. "Oh, I notice plenty."
That stupid teasing tone again—the one that always made my heartbeat skip a fraction faster.
Ci-N tugged at my sleeve. "Jay-Jay, let's pose like we did for the talent show last year!"
"Ugh, that was embarrassing," I said, giggling.
"You loved it," Ci-N said, grinning cheekily. "And so did everyone else!"
"Maybe not everyone," Yuri murmured dryly, though his faint smile betrayed him.
Keifer nudged me gently. "Remember how you tripped on the stage during the group act?"
I threw a paper at him. "Stop reminding me!"
He laughed, that effortless sound that had always reached my chest and made it flutter. "I'll never forget it, Jay-Jay. You were… unstoppable."
Later that afternoon, when the others drifted off to return their uniforms or grab snacks, I found myself alone in the classroom, packing my things into a bag that suddenly felt too heavy.
"Leaving already?"
I turned. Keifer was leaning against the doorframe, casual as ever, arms folded, that infuriating smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah," I said. "Just cleaning up."
He stepped closer, his shoes quiet against the tiles. "You know… your brother Angelo came to talk to me."
That caught my attention. "What? Why?"
"He said you'll be going to a different college," Keifer said softly. "Said it'd be better for you. Better focus, less distraction."
I blinked. The sting behind my eyes surprised me. "Oh."
He smiled gently this time, not teasing. "Hey. Don't look like that."
"You're not even sad about it," I muttered, half pouting, half joking.
"Who said I'm not?" He tilted his head. "I just don't want you crying before the ceremony."
"I'm not crying."
He grinned. "You will."
I huffed, crossing my arms. "I just don't want to go to some boring place where I don't know anyone."
"Then I'll just have to visit you every day," he said. "So you won't forget me."
I laughed, despite the lump forming in my throat. "You're such a liar."
"I'm serious." His tone changed—softer, steadier. "We'll still see each other, Jay-Jay. It's just college. And besides…"
"Besides what?"
He looked right at me. "You're meant for bigger things. Don't ever doubt that."
For a heartbeat, I couldn't breathe.
He reached into his pocket then and pulled out a small box. "Also… happy early birthday."
Inside was the thin gold bracelet—the same one that now glinted under the apartment light years later.
"Keifer, you didn't have to—"
"I wanted to," he interrupted. "So when you start that new chapter, you'll have something from us. From Section E. From… me."
I smiled, blinking fast to hold back tears. "You're such a sap."
He laughed. "You love it."
And maybe, even back then, I did.
Present-
The memories blurred as I pressed the bracelet against my palm, breathing through the ache.
So much had changed. So much had stayed the same.
I closed the box carefully, placing it beside me on the bed. My reflection in the dark window looked back—older, sharper, but still her. Still the girl who once laughed too loudly in a crowded classroom.
A notification buzzed on my phone. A new message.From:CoelHey boss, you okay? You left early yesterday.
I typed back, Yeah. Just tired.
It wasn't a lie. But it wasn't the truth either.
Keifer's POV
The city looked different from his hotel balcony—colder, more distant—but he found himself staring at the skyline as if it might hold an answer.
He had barely slept. Jay-Jay's face kept flashing through his mind, the way her eyes had flickered when he'd said her name the other day, the way she'd looked like she was fighting ghosts he couldn't see.
He sighed and took out his phone. The wallpaper was still the same: that old group photo of Section E, their faces blurred slightly with age.
"Still wearing it?" he murmured to no one, a ghost of a smile tugging his lips.
He remembered the bracelet—how she'd smiled when he gave it, how he'd almost said the words he'd been too scared to.
Maybe she'd forgotten. Maybe she hadn't.
Either way, he knew.
She was remembering too.
And for the first time in years, that thought didn't ache—it felt like a promise, reborn.