Oliver nodded. ‘Definitely.’
He blinked, his hands moving numbly, muscle memory taking over to dial Sophie’s number. Before he had the chance to regret it, she picked up.
‘Hey, you’re back!’ There was noise in the background, but her voice was clear.
He hadn’t heard it in so long, and he was shocked he felt no pull, no tightening in his chest, nothing except for a vague and comfortable fondness. ‘Hi. Shall I ring you later, when you’re home?’
‘It’s okay, I’m on break right now. I’ve only got… fifteen minutes. How are you?’ The voices in the background quieted, and Oliver assumed she’d found a more private spot in the studio.
He took a deep breath. ‘I got in.’
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. ‘Oh, wow. That’s brilliant, Oliver!’
‘Thanks.’ He paused, unsure of how to continue.
Sophie seemed to sense his hesitation. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I feel… good,’ he said. ‘I feel the way you’re supposed to feel when you accomplish your biggest life goal, I think.’
‘Mhmm,’ Sophie said. ‘And you’re taking the spot?’
‘Of course I am,’ he said quickly. ‘But, Soph – I want to be clear, I’m not moving to New York to try to win you back. When I auditioned, I thought that maybe…’ He cleared his throat, pointedly not looking at Will. ‘But I don’t think we make sense any more.’
There was no simple way to articulate everything he felt, everything he’d learned about himself and them in the past two months.
‘I never moved out of our flat,’ he said finally, though he wasn’t sure why that was what he’d settled on. ‘I sat here every day for months, paying your part of the rent and mine, waiting for you to come back.’
‘Oh God,’ Sophie said. ‘I made a mess of things, didn’t I? I’ll pay you back. You should’ve said, I didn’t mean to—’ She sighed. ‘Well, anyway. I’m sorry.’
‘Me too.’
They let silence creep onto the line, and Oliver thought about all the things that would remain unsaid between them. For months, he’d driven himself mad talking to her every night, unwilling to ask the question he had so desperately wanted answered. In the quiet, he realised no answer from her would ever satisfy him.
Oliver heard a loudspeaker in the background. ‘They’re calling us back now… But I guess I’ll see you soon?’
‘Yes, see you soon.’
As Oliver hung up, he made himself turn to Will, expecting either judgement or overbearing worry. Instead, he found his friend scrupulously dusting the dead cactus on his kitchen counter, clearly pretending not to be eavesdropping.
‘Well?’ Oliver asked.
Will looked at him with only mild concern. Oliver found that it bothered him less now, and that it looked more like compassion than pity.
Oliver smiled slowly. ‘You know, I think I’ll keep you around, even after the move.’
Will put a hand over his heart, feigning shock. ‘And here I was, worried I would lose you to the influencer crowd.’
That Friday, Will insisted their friends gather to watch the finale together. They met in Oliver’s nearly empty flat. He had packed almost everything already, though he was still looking for a place in New York. After things were settled, his plan in place once again, he finally felt like he could face Declan, even if it was just on screen.
‘This place is a ghost town,’ Divya said, dry as ever, shucking off her jacket in the doorway.
A windswept Hanna followed behind her, carrying a bottle of wine. ‘Weather’s mad for August, isn’t it? I think a storm is brewing.’
He gave them both hugs. ‘Glad you could make it. It’s been too long.’
Hanna wriggled out of his grasp. ‘Well, we wanted to come over sooner, but were told there might be toxic waste disposal in progress.’
They were second to arrive, after Will, who had taken to crashing most nights on Oliver’s uncomfortable couch. He assured Oliver it was not an inconvenience, and Oliver, despite his months of insistence that no one help him, let Will do what he wanted. It was nice to have someone around all the time, so the flat didn’t feel so empty.
