Strings of Fate: The First Loop

CHAPTER 17

And in that moment, it almost felt like nothing was wrong. Like none of us were carrying secrets or silent aches or broken bits we didn’t know how to name.

Just seven people. Sand on our feet. The sky folding into darkness.

And somewhere beneath the waves—our names drifting quietly, somewhere no one could ever find them again.

Dinner was loud in the way most vacation dinners are. The restaurant buzzed with the chatter of strangers in swimsuits and salt-stiff hair. A local band played reggae versions of pop songs—off-key renditions of Taylor Swift and Billie Eilish—and no one really paid attention. Just background noise, like the soft clink of utensils and the buzz of hanging lamps attracting moths.

After the last bite of grilled shrimp and half-eaten fries, Corey leaned in and grinned. “Bonfire?”

“Hell yeah,” Drake said, already on his feet.

So we found ourselves on the beach again, under a mess of coconut trees strung with torch lights, the sand golden and warm where it caught the flame, and cool where shadows lingered. There were people walking nearby—other groups, couples, drunk wanderers—but our little flame made it feel like we were in our own corner of the world.

The boys cracked open a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black, pouring it into red plastic cups with Coke as chasers. Matt surprised us by joining in. He took a careful sip, then immediately started laughing along with Drake and James.
“Look at you,” Drake smirked, nudging Matt. “Did Jesus turn your water into whisky?”

“Maybe I needed it,” Matt said, straight-faced, before cracking the smallest grin.

James leaned back on his hands. “Next thing we know, he’s gonna suggest we go clubbing.”

“God forbid he unbuttons his top button,” Corey added, grinning.

Matt sipped and replied dryly, “I’ll have you know I own exactly one shirt with palm prints. I might even wear it someday. As a joke.”

Drake snorted. “That’s what they all say. Then boom, next thing you know, you’re shirtless on a beach in Bali doing shots off someone’s back.”

Corey raised his brows. “You okay, Drake?”

“Never better.”

James pointed his cup at Matt. “We’re corrupting you.”

Matt just rolled his eyes, but he was laughing now, shoulders looser than I’d seen in days. It felt… good. Seeing them like that—light, stupid, soft around the edges.

Inez groaned. “Boys and their low standards for fun.”

Drake grinned. “We don’t need much. Just fire, booze, and the occasional dare that ruins friendships.”

Inez complained about her sunburn, poking at her shoulder with a slight pout. “I swear, I look like a lobster.”

She held a bottle of lychee-flavored beer, still mostly full. I held my soda like it was a shield.

Corey was almost drunk, his head resting on Drake’s shoulder like gravity had finally won. Their hands were intertwined—not in a flashy way, but like it was just the most natural thing in the world. I caught myself smiling.

But Inez and Tim… they were like static. Barely looking at each other, but vibrating with tension. Inez’s laugh was a little too sharp, and Tim kept tugging at the hem of his shirt like he was holding something in. I could see it all—her frustration simmering under the surface, his loneliness curling at the edges of his movements. Like he wanted to reach for her. Like he didn’t know how.