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Chapter 3 - My Little Stranger 3

Vince stepped out of the bathroom, towel draped over his head, steam still clinging to his skin. As he passed through the living room, he spotted Dale knocked out cold on the couch, mouth slightly open, one leg hanging off the side.

"This bastard," Vince muttered with a tired smirk. "Sleep at your own damn house."

Still, he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over him before disappearing into his mini office tucked behind a sliding door.

The room was dimly lit—clean, sharp, minimal like the rest of his apartment. Vince sank into the leather chair, flicked on his desk lamp, and began sorting through a flood of business emails. Mergers, proposals, complaints—none of it held his attention for long.

That's when he saw it.

Lying quietly off to the side of the desk, as if it had been waiting for him, was a small necklace. Simple, delicate. A thin chain with a banana-shaped pendant.

Vince froze.

"I was looking for this," he whispered, reaching out slowly. He turned it over in his hand. "Did the maids find it?"

The pendant was smooth, warm from the lamplight. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

He remembered the day he got it—impulsive, stupid, completely unromantic. They had walked by a street vendor and she had pointed it out, laughing. "Banana milk, banana pendant," she'd joked. "Your weird little obsession."

He bought it on the spot.

"I wonder..." he said, his voice trailing off. "Would she remember this? If I showed her now?"

He stared at the pendant, eyes softening, as if looking through time. Like a stray dog staring at a familiar home it could no longer walk into.

Flashback – 12 Years Ago

"Were you skipping class again, Vince?!"

Mr. Ray's voice thundered through the hallway like a drill sergeant on caffeine.

Vince grinned, strolling in like he owned the place. "Of course not, teacher. I just stepped out to... study."

"Study?! You left in the middle of third period, you little bastard!"

"Well, I study better with sunlight," Vince replied with a cheeky smirk.

Mr. Ray's vein twitched. "You're staying after school to clean—no excuses!"

Later that afternoon, Vince stood in the boys' bathroom, armed with a mop and zero intention to actually clean.

Beside him, Dale scrubbed a urinal with a disgusted look on his face.

"Why the hell am I here? I didn't skip class!"

Vince put on a tragic face, holding a hand to his chest. "Because, Dale, you're my soulmate. How can I suffer without you?"

"Ugh. Soulmate, my ass," Dale growled. "Say that again and I'll shove this mop so far down your throat you'll be sneezing pine-scented soap."

"So violent. No wonder you're still single," Vince teased.

Dale smacked his teeth. "Tsk."

There was a pause—just long enough for Dale to start trusting him again—before Vince suddenly stood up straight and grinned.

"Hey, how about we skip again? I hear the arcade's still got that mech-fighter game we—"

"No." Dale cut him off, pointing the mop like a weapon. "You're just gonna get us into more trouble."

"Tch. Such a stick-to-the-rules kind of guy." Vince gave him a mock salute. "Well then... see you later!"

And with that, Vince bolted through the bathroom door, laughing as he disappeared into the hallway.

"You f..... bastard!" Dale shouted after him, voice echoing off the tile walls. "I hope you slip on a mop and break your neck!"

As Vince sprinted down the hallway, ready to make his escape, he suddenly stopped. A faint sound drifted from one of the classrooms—a quiet, muffled sobbing.

Weird, he thought. School was already out. Most students had gone home. Only a few lingered for club activities, and Dale was still stuck scrubbing toilets.

Curious—and nosy as ever—Vince crept toward the sound and gently pushed open the door.

Inside, a girl sat alone on top of a desk, her back to him. Blonde hair caught the dying afternoon light, and she wiped at her face with her sleeve. She stared out the window, where the school field stretched toward the horizon, quiet and empty. The moment froze for Vince.

She looked like something out of a painting. Or maybe like one of those butterflies he used to catch as a kid—fragile, but impossible to ignore.

Then she noticed him.

Her head whipped around, eyes wide. She quickly slid off the desk, wiping her face again in a hurried attempt to hide the tears.

"Hey," Vince said softly, stepping in. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, voice tight. She brushed past him without slowing down.

But Vince, being Vince, didn't let it go.

He followed. "Hey—wait up!"

"What?" she snapped, turning around just outside the classroom.

Up close, she looked even more striking. Her skin was porcelain smooth, lips full and trembling slightly, eyes a vivid green that locked onto his like emerald glass. The sadness in them hit harder than anything she said.

Vince stared for a second too long.

"...Beautiful," he murmured before he could stop himself.

She blinked, rolled her eyes hard, and turned away again, heading toward the school's back exit without saying another word.

"Hey—wait!" Vince called out again, jogging after her, something pulling him forward he didn't quite understand yet.

Just like that, the chase began—one that would last far longer than either of them expected.

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