It hadn't happened all at once.
It never did.
Agnes didn't wake up one day and decide she liked Fayne.
It was quieter than that.
It started with a glance.
A little over a month ago.
The stage lights had been warm.
Blinding, almost.
The kind that swallowed everything beyond them—
the audience, the space, the world.
But somehow—
Agnes still saw her.
Fayne.
In a sea of faces, of silhouettes and shifting shadows—
her eyes had landed on her.
And stayed.
She didn't know why.
Couldn't explain it.
But there was something in the way Fayne watched her.
Not distracted.
Not passive.
Focused.
Like she wasn't just watching a performance—
but her.
And for a second—
Agnes lost her rhythm.
Just slightly.
Just enough to notice.
After that, it was easy to pretend it hadn't meant anything.
They talked.
Naturally.
Casually.
Agnes kept it that way on purpose.
Friendly.
Light.
Safe.
Until that night.
Karaoke.
She hadn't expected much.
Just noise.
Laughter.
People taking turns not taking things too seriously.
And then—
Fayne sang.
The room shifted.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Agnes leaned back slightly, her attention caught before she even realized it.
Fayne didn't try to impress.
Didn't overdo it.
She just…
sang.
And something about that—
the ease, the control, the quiet confidence—
stayed.
Agnes didn't say anything about it.
Didn't need to.
But something had changed.
After that—
she asked her out.
Casually.
"Do you wanna hang out sometime?"
Fayne had agreed.
A friendship date.
At least—
that's what Fayne probably thought it was.
Agnes wasn't so sure.
They walked.
Talked.
Let the afternoon stretch between them without forcing it into anything more.
Agnes kept it light.
But underneath—
there was something else.
Something quieter.
Something she couldn't quite ignore anymore.
By the end of it—
she knew.
Or at least—
she suspected.
This feels different.
And that should have been enough to focus on.
But it wasn't the only thing happening.
Because around the same time—
Ethan came back.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Just…
back.
They had reconnected through Fayne.
Through the same circle.
The same conversations.
And when Agnes saw him again—
for the first time in years—
she had been nervous.
More than she expected.
What if he had changed?
What if it felt different?
What if that quiet space between them—
was gone?
But it wasn't.
Not really.
The conversation had been a little awkward at first.
A little careful.
But then—
it softened.
And before she knew it—
they were close again.
Familiar.
Easy.
Like something that had been paused—
and simply resumed.
And maybe that's why—
she didn't think twice about inviting them both.
One afternoon.
She and Paul took the train to Aetheridge.
The sky had been cloudy.
Heavy, but not threatening.
They met Ethan at the station.
Walked together without much direction.
And eventually—
ended up at a park.
A bench.
Agnes sat in the middle.
Paul on one side.
Ethan on the other.
Close.
Comfortable.
The kind of closeness she had never questioned.
The rain came unexpectedly.
Light at first.
Then steadier.
None of them moved.
And somewhere in that moment—
between the sound of rain and the quiet of the afternoon—
Agnes spoke.
"I think…"
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
"…I think I might like Fayne."
The words felt strange out loud.
New.
She laughed softly after saying it.
Like it wasn't something that needed to be taken too seriously.
But it was.
Paul didn't react immediately.
Ethan didn't either.
They just—
listened.
Quiet.
Agnes had thought they were just processing.
That it was unexpected.
That maybe—
they didn't know what to say.
But then—
they smiled.
Soft.
Supportive.
"Then you should go for it," Paul said.
Ethan nodded slightly.
"…yeah."
And that was it.
Simple.
Easy.
Agnes smiled.
Relieved.
She hadn't thought much about it after that.
Not in the way she should have.
Not in the way she does now.
Because sitting there—
between them—
feeling safe, understood, supported—
she hadn't noticed.
Not the way their silence lingered just a second too long.
Not the way their words came just a little too carefully.
Not the way—
something had shifted.
Agnes's gaze lowered slightly.
Back in the present.
Back in her room.
Her fingers rested still against the desk.
"…I really didn't know," she whispered.
Not then.
Not what it meant—
for them to hear that.
For them to sit there—
right next to her—
and listen to her talk about someone else.
Not what it must have felt like—
to support her anyway.
Her chest tightened slightly.
Because now—
now she could see it.
Ethan.
Paul.
Both of them.
Sitting on either side of her—
and quietly choosing to stay.
Even then.