RED NOTES AND KISSES-Chapter 52: LAZ -

His room was bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows on the walls.

He had picked out her favorite place for their first date, a cozy restaurant she’d once mentioned in passing.

Laz stood before the mirror, staring at his reflection. His heart was pounding, and his palms were clammy with sweat. He was nervous.

Very nervous.

Their first date had to be perfect, he carefully choosing every detail to make the evening perfect.

He smoothed the front of his crisp white shirt, paired with a tailored navy blazer and dark jeans, polished to perfection.

His brown leather shoes gleamed, and his silver watch caught the light as he adjusted his cuff.

A silver watch gleamed on his wrist, catching the fading sunlight.

His usually messy hair was neatly styled, though a stray lock rebelliously fell over his forehead.

His palms were sweating as he ran them down his trousers.

"Do I look good?" Laz asked, his voice tinged with nervousness, glancing at Zack, who was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Zack barely looked up, the faint hum of cicadas outside filling the brief silence. "You always look good," he said flatly, his tone devoid of enthusiasm.

Laz smiled faintly. "Thanks. Gotta go; the place is a bit far, like five miles."

Descending the stairs, the nervousness he’d carried moments ago began to fade into excitement.

The cool evening breeze greeted him as he stepped outside, rustling the leaves of the old oak tree in the front yard.

Zack wasn’t far behind, leaning casually on the porch railing.

Sliding into his car, Laz turned the key in the ignition, but the engine sputtered and fell silent.

A frown creased his face. Checking the fuel gauge, he saw it was full. He stepped out, the faint scent of rain in the air.

Bending down, he spotted the culprit, a deflated tire.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, standing upright and glancing toward Zack. "My tire’s deflated. Do you have a spare?"

Zack remained leaned against the porch, his posture relaxed, as if the world wasn’t falling apart. "Why are you even bothering? Aren’t you literally going there to break it to her that you don’t like her?" he drawled, his voice tinged with something Laz couldn’t quite place.

Laz froze, his heart skipping a beat. Slowly, he turned to face Zack, his grey eyes narrowing as he took measured steps toward him.

"What do you mean by that?" Laz asked, his voice low and dangerous, the fading sunlight highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw.

"What I just said. You don’t even like her, so don’t bother going." Zack’s words hung in the air, heavy and cold.

A bitter chuckle escaped Laz’s lips as he closed the distance between them. "If this is about that stupid bet, I’m not interested anymore. It was a joke to me in the beginning, so you guys should just let it go."

Zack’s gaze hardened, his jaw tightening. "Too late."

Laz’s stomach dropped, a sick feeling churning within him. "What have you done?"

"Nothing, really," Zack said with a shrug, though his eyes betrayed him. "Grey’s gone to break the news to her."

The words hit Laz like a physical blow. Without thinking, he grabbed Zack by the collar, yanking him forward.

"You wouldn’t dare," Laz hissed, his voice trembling with fury. His eyes, usually soft, now burned like storm clouds, dangerous and unpredictable.

"Why? I thought you didn’t like her?" Zack spat, his own anger bubbling to the surface.

Releasing him, Laz took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don’t understand. Why would you do something like this, Zack?"

"Because I hate the way you look at her!" Zack’s voice broke, raw and unfiltered.

Laz stared at him, stunned.

"I hate the way you act around her," Zack continued, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "It’s different with Tiffany or Brittney, you don’t care about them."

The sky above darkened further, clouds gathering ominously as the first hints of a storm rolled in.

"But with Frida," Zack said, his voice faltering, "you’d leave me to be with her, and I hate it."

Laz pinched the bridge of his nose, his mind spinning. "I don’t understand. Why would any of this bother you?"

"God, you’re so blind, Laz. Do I need to spell it out for you?" Zack yelled, the wind picking up around them, carrying the scent of rain.

"Yes, spell it out, Zack!" Laz shouted back, his voice echoing in the growing stillness of the evening.

"I love you," Zack said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Laz froze, the world tilting on its axis.

"What?" he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse.

"I love you. Can’t you see that?" Zack stepped forward, his hand reaching for Laz’s, desperation written all over his face.

Laz recoiled as if burned, taking several steps back. "You’d ruin my life just so I would be with you? You call that love?"

Zack’s eyes widened in panic. "It’s not

..I didn’t mean..."

"Don’t. Don’t. Just don’t," Laz said, his voice breaking.

Turning on his heel, he ran, his heart pounding as the first drops of rain began to fall.

Frida. She would be waiting for him.

The rain quickly turned into a downpour, soaking him to the bone as he sprinted down the empty streets.

The streetlights flickered to life, their golden glow distorted by the sheets of rain.

He kept dialing her number, his fingers trembling, but each call went unanswered.

He just had to forget his wallet in the car, now he couldn’t take a cab, he hated himself right now.

By the time he reached the restaurant, his chest was tight, and his legs felt like lead.

She stood under the awning, her figure cloaked in the shadows of the storm. Thunder growled in the distance, punctuated by flashes of lightning.

Her dress clung to her, drenched from the rain. Her arms hung at her sides, but her stance was rigid, unmoving.

It wasn’t the thunder or the rain that struck him. It was her eyes, dark and unyielding, twin storms that mirrored the heavens above.

He saw an emotion he’d never seen before, not even in the countless memories of their years together.

She loathed him.

It was written in her gaze, the hatred etched deep into her soul. It wasn’t just the coldness, it was the finality.

Laz’s breath hitched, the words he had prepared now meaningless. His voice faltered, the storm swallowing the silence.

He had destroyed everything.