All Strings Attached

Chapter Eight: The confessions I would never sing

Kian's perspective

I hated crowded rooms.

I hated when people talked too loud, laughed too long, or walked too close.

Maybe that’s why I always ended up by the window, by the wall, or in the furthest corner—somewhere they couldn’t reach me. Being outside the circle was quieter. It was easier to breathe.

And besides, from here, I got to watch everything.

Like... Steve.

He always walked in like the room shifted just for him. Not in a loud or arrogant way, but the kind that made people turn their heads without knowing why. He knew how to move, how to talk, how to entertain. How to steal hearts.

That’s the part that got me too.

The way he was touchy with everyone like it meant nothing. His hand on Jairus' back. His elbow bumping Jean. The way he flicked June’s ear when he drew too long during practice. Or when he leaned his head on my back to rest.

None of it meant anything—to him.

But to people like me? It meant everything.

I think this started back in highschool days...It took me two years to admit I liked him. And only three months to realize I shouldn’t have.

Because he would never look at me the way I looked at him.
Not when his eyes followed Jean like that.

Yeah. That’s another thing I’d rather not talk about.

Jean Elijah Navarro.
An Ex- Seatmate from high school.
A secret ex-rival for Steve’s heart.
An old friend.
And my almost—well, not even that. He was never mine. We weren’t even a thing.

Back in high school, we were accidentally paired in a music club I randomly joined for extra grades. I was the weird athlete who could play guitar. He was the genius who wrote lyrics in one sitting and spoke only when necessary.

We became friends. Sort of.

I don’t remember when I started talking to him. Maybe it was when he let me hear his first song. Maybe when he showed me his notebook, filled with pain he never wore on his face.

But I liked him— As a companion. As something more...As a brother maybe? But of course, I never told him. He never had to know.

Then one day, I heard rumors—Jean was allegedly dating someone. A soft-spoken guy from another class who liked climbing trees and choreographing songs.

I didn’t care. Not at first.

Until he invaded our world.

Steve. That guy was not what I expected. He cracked into our tiny circle like he’d always belonged. He became our friend. He made Jean and I laugh in ways we never imagined.

When I noticed how Steve looked at Jean, something inside me shut down.

I learned how to lock it all away—the feelings that I have for him, the longing of his presence, the hopeless romanticism that never helped anyone.

I thought my feelings would fade with time. But I was wrong.

Because I started noticing Steve again. Not because he was near Jean. But because he was Steve.

Loud. Funny. Annoying. Warm.

Warm in the way I never was. In the way Jean never needed me to be.

Steve started to tease me during practice, he sat beside me during breaks and laughed like I was part of the joke.

And like a fool, I thought... maybe he did see me.

But then I saw how he looked at Jairus—The same way he looked at Jean back then.

Suddenly, his laughter belonged to someone else. His attention. His touches. His goddamn warmth—all handed over to a boy with a pretty face, a decent voice, and way too much confidence.

I told myself it was nothing. That it would fade like before.

“He’s annoying.”
That’s what I always told June.

But the truth?

I wanted to be the one Steve called after practices. I wanted to be the one he looked after like that.

But Steve doesn’t see people like me. Not for long. I fade too easily into the background. Like a ghost.

And the worst part? He’s Steve. Of all people.

It’s exhausting to feel like this.

Then there’s June—my cousin.

Quiet. Soft-hearted. Introverted.
He doesn’t say much, but he sees everything.

He sees the way I flinch when Steve calls someone else's name endearingly as a joke. The way my jaw tightens when Steve brushes Jairus’ hair aside.

He knows.

June is the only one who knows everything. About Jean. About Steve. About the songs I never write. About the rage I hide in the quiet corners of my mind.

Sometimes I think June is stronger than me. He still believes in love. The kind he once feared. He still hopes Jairus might turn around and notice him.

Me?

I’ve stopped hoping.

I just want to survive this band. Get through the performances. Keep my heart out of places it doesn’t belong.

But it’s hard.
So goddamn hard.

Because Steve is here again and I have to pretend I never wanted him.

Because now I’m trying to date Jean, and I have to pretend I don’t care about Steve anymore.

Because now June watches me with worried eyes, and I have to act like I’m not coming undone.

Sometimes, I want to scream. Loud enough that nobody could ignore it.

But instead, I sit quietly. I stare out the window during breaks.
I nod at Jean’s song suggestions.
I corrected Steve’s timing without looking at him.
I avoid June’s sketches because I’m afraid of what they might reveal.

I love too quietly and ache too deeply.

But if anyone dares to ask?

I’ll just shrug and say,
“I’m fine.”

Because some of us weren’t built for spotlight confessions.

Some of us were made for silence.

And the confessions I wrote for him?
I’ll never sing them—
Not until the day I die.

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