The Pink Bracelet

'Thank you for making my quarantine, Bella. Other than doing random chores around the house, you were everything else.'

It was a Friday. He was supposed to be heading to university on Sunday. We were supposed to meet up with a mutual friend, his old high school deskmate, for a last get-together before he left for his dreams. We were supposed to have had said our goodbyes, detangling our intertwined paths. Supposed to.

Ding. You've received a message.

'Bells, stop asking. I can't go out. My parents are quite paranoid of the corona scare.'

My heart cracked. It was my last chance to see him again, before we were to be thrown into the wind to be scattered to the different corners of the Earth. It was at that moment, the realisation that my best friend truly was leaving me, settled in.

Ding. You've received a message.

'Wait! I CAN GO OUT!'

'YAY! But what about Adam?'

'It's okay. It'll be our little date.'

Smiling, I texted a quick enthusiastic and excited reply, slipped on that beaded rose quartz bracelet, grabbed my bullet journal and headed out.

"Okay! Let's see what the next question is." He scooted closer to me to fit into my phone's screen, slightly hovering near the exposed area of my neck, leaving me flushed pink. But he didn't seem to notice.

"Alright! So the next question is, 'When was your first kiss?'..." I trailed off as I slowly turned my head towards him, my face turning redder by the minute.

"How about now? You did promise me one." He flashed me his million-dollar smile with a slight curl of his lips.

We looked at each other for the longest time, cementing everything that was left unsaid before, in that single moment, with a trial.

Flashforward a few days, he began his new life as I prepared for mine. But then, the world spiralled out of control around us.

Stores started to shut down gradually, leaving the streets empty for the first time in years; people in masks rushing around frantically, stocking up, for the fear of an unknown; planes flew in and out, racing against time, to bring families to completion before the last call to shut the borders. He managed to slip back to his family before the government's final decision to cement the lockdown.

Despite the world seemingly falling apart, I felt okay. Because I had him. He was my drug, intoxicating me to forget that the world outside was on fire.

We'd meet in the dead of night, trudging through the shadows, as the darkness swallowed half our faces, leaving only our twinkling eyes against the fading starlight. We'd talk about the past, reminiscing in nostalgia; the present, clinging onto hope for a sense of normalcy again; the future, which never really resulted in anything conclusive, in between the cheesy pickup lines and petty arguments. He felt like a token of remembrance of the past, that I'd be able to carry into my new life. And the thought that he'd still be there in my new chapter comforted me. Even if I lose everything from the past, at least I would still be able to keep him in my life.

For the first time in a long time, I felt happy. He taught me to smile again. And I loved the new smile that he gave me.

But there was always this voice at the back of my mind, whispering that this wasn't right. It was barely audible; loud enough to understand, but soft enough to disregard it.