Before they left the laboratory, Liam closed his notebook and glanced at Oliver.
"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual. "Tomorrow's a weekend."
Oliver nodded. "Yeah."
"My parents won't be home," Liam continued. "Just Mrs Phillips, and a few of my friends stopping by. You could come over. We could hang out."
Oliver paused.
He wasn't used to being invited to places like that. Liam's house felt like a different world—big, neat, expensive. He shifted his bag on his shoulder. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I don't want to be a bother."
"You won't be," Liam said quickly. "I want you there."
Oliver looked up at him, surprised.
Before he could answer, the lab door opened.
Julian stepped inside.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," Julian said lightly, though his eyes moved between them with interest. "I couldn't help overhearing."
Liam's expression hardened slightly. "Overhearing what?"
"The invitation," Julian replied calmly. "Your house."
Oliver turned to Julian. "You heard that?"
Julian nodded. "Yeah. And… I was wondering if I could come too." He smiled faintly. "My parents won't be home either. I'll be lonely."
Liam frowned. "Why would you—"
"I know your house," Julian added smoothly. "It's not far from mine. I live beside Tommy's place."
At the mention of Tommmy, Liam stiffened.
Julian met his gaze, his rimmed eyes annoying Liam the more.
Oliver looked between them, then smiled. "That would be nice," he said. "Right? It'd be more fun."
Liam turned to Oliver. "You want him to come?"
Oliver nodded eagerly. "Yes. Please."
Liam hesitated.
He looked back at Julian, then at Oliver's hopeful expression. Something in his chest twisted—annoyance, unease, and something close to worry.
"…Fine," Liam said at last. "But just this once."
Julian smiled. "Thanks."
Oliver beamed. "Thank you, Liam."
Liam didn't smile back immediately.
As they left the lab together, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just agreed to something that would change more than just a weekend.
The next day, Mrs Snider gave Oliver permission to take the day off.
"You've worked hard," she told him gently. "Go and rest. Have some fun for once."
Oliver thanked her and returned home early. He changed into simple clothes—a plain shirt and worn jeans—nothing special. He didn't want to look out of place.
A loud engine sound broke the quiet of the street.
Oliver stepped outside and froze.
Liam was there.
He sat on his sleek black Ducati, helmet tucked under his arm, dressed casually in jeans and a jacket. He looked relaxed, confident, like he belonged on the bike.
"You ready?" Liam asked, grinning.
Oliver hesitated. "You came all the way here?"
"Of course," Liam said. "Get on."
Oliver swallowed and climbed on behind him carefully, holding onto the edge of the seat at first.
"You can hold me," Liam said over his shoulder. "I won't drop you."
Oliver's hands tightened around Liam's jacket.
The engine roared to life.
And then they were gone.
The bike shot forward in a blink, the wind rushing past Oliver's ears, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
"Liam!" Oliver shouted. "You're too fast!"
Liam laughed, the sound carried away by the wind. "Relax! I've got you."
Oliver pressed closer without thinking, gripping Liam tighter as the world blurred around them.
For the first time in a long while, fear mixed with something else—excitement.
And Oliver didn't want the ride to end.
When they arrived at Liam's house, the loud music reached them even before the door was fully opened.
Inside, Mrs Phillips stood near the spiral staircase, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She was staring up the stairs with a worried expression, as if hoping the noise would somehow stop on its own. But there was nothing she could do.
Liam's friends had already taken over the mini parlor.
The lights were dim. Smoke hung thick in the air. Bottles were scattered across the table, and heavy music blasted from a large speaker in the corner. Some of the boys were drinking, others dancing wildly, laughing without care.
Liam barely reacted. This wasn't new to him.
Oliver, however, slowed his steps.
"This is… loud," he said quietly.
Liam glanced back at him. "You'll get used to it."
Oliver nodded, though he wasn't sure he wanted to.
As they entered the parlor, a few of Liam's friends turned to look at him. Their eyes lingered—curious, judging, amused.
"Wow you brought the quiet one ," Paul said, smoke puffing out from his mouth.
"Oliver," Liam corrected simply.
Oliver forced a smile and stepped forward. It felt stiff on his face, unfamiliar. He stood beside Liam, trying not to cough from the smoke, trying not to feel out of place.
The music grew louder.
The room felt smaller.
And for the first time since getting on the bike, Oliver wondered if coming here had been a mistake.
After some time, when Oliver thought he couldn't take it anymore. The door opened and Julian stepped inside.
He was dressed simply—in shorts and a loose T-shirt—and for a moment, Oliver barely recognized him. His skin looked very fair under the lights, and his glasses were still perched neatly on his nose. A faint blush colored his cheeks, making him look softer, almost shy.
Beside him stood a big, white, furry dog, its tail wagging lazily as it took in the unfamiliar space.
This Julian was different.
Not the quiet, serious boy in a stiff school uniform. Not the one who always looked distant and focused. This version of him felt warmer, so different entirely...
"Sorry I'm late," Julian said, adjusting his glasses. "My dog wanted me to bring him along."
Liam looked up, his expression unreadable.
Oliver smiled, genuine this time. "It's okay."
Julian's eyes flicked briefly to Liam, then to Oliver, and then to Tommy who was glaring at him from where he was sitting. Julian gave a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and rested a hand on the dog's head.
The music continued to thump in the background...