HAPPY FRIENDSHIP ANNIVERSARY

 Unspoken Moves and Missing Pieces

The villa's kitchen was filled with warm smells, grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, creamy pasta, and the unmistakable scent of melted cheese from Kai's signature garlic bread.

Laughter floated in from the balcony where Lena and Eli were setting the table, their banter light,

trying to shake off the strange cloud that had lingered over the group these past few days.

Nora stood by the sink, rinsing wine glasses with Amelia. "This dinner," she whispered, "is our reset button."

Amelia nodded. "We need it. It's been too tense lately."

Eli entered with a grin. "Alright, dinner for five, table is ready! Wait, where's Amelia?"

As if on cue, Amelia stepped out from the hallway, her hair up in a loose bun, her expression calm but unreadable.

She held her phone in one hand and avoided looking directly at Eli. "I'm here."

Kai raised a brow, tossing a napkin over his shoulder.

"Dinner's about to start.

And we're playing our favorite game after. No one's allowed to bail tonight. Group rule."

There were scattered chuckles, except Amelia didn't laugh.

She smiled briefly and shook her head. "I won't be part of the game tonight."

Everyone paused.

Eli blinked. "What do you mean?"

Amelia stepped back slightly, resting against the kitchen counter.

"I just… have a few unfinished things to handle. I need some space."

Lena's voice was cautious. "Space for what, Amelia?"

"Just space," Amelia said quietly, looking down at her phone.

"Besides, when I'm not around, everything feels more balanced anyway."

"Wait, what?" Kai asked, confused. "How does that make sense?"

Amelia looked up finally, her tone even, but her eyes distant. "It's nothing. Don't worry.

"I just won't play tonight."

"You've never missed game night," Nora said gently. "Not since the first year."

Amelia forced a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's time for a small change. You all deserve a night without… awkward energy."

Her words hit harder than intended.

Eli stepped forward, his brow furrowed, but Nora touched his arm subtly, a quiet gesture of "not now."

Kai tried to lighten the mood. "Okay.

We'll save your seat anyway. You know, we suck at trivia without you."

"I'll cheer from the stairs," Amelia said, backing toward the hallway.

"But really, enjoy dinner. I'll eat later."

Then she was gone.

The group stood in stunned silence for a beat.

The garlic bread in the oven beeped. The air felt heavier, like Amelia had taken something invisible with her when she walked out.

"She thinks she's the problem," Lena whispered.

Eli clenched his jaw. "No. She's just trying to protect us. From herself. From me."

Nora looked toward the hallway where Amelia had disappeared.

"Then maybe it's time we stop pretending everything is fine. She needs to know she's not the piece that doesn't fit.

She's part of this. Just like the rest of us."

Kai clapped his hands together suddenly. "Alright! We're still doing dinner.

We'll keep it warm for her. And trivia night is happening whether Amelia sits with us or not."

They all nodded slowly, the silence softening.

Dinner was served.

Laughter tried to rise again. Jokes were told.

Glasses clinked. But there was a quiet hum beneath it all, a shared awareness that the game wasn't the same without her.

And up the stairs, unseen, Amelia sat by her open window, listening to their laughter float through the night, smiling faintly but never stepping out.

 Whispers at Midnight

The last round of trivia had ended.

Lena and Kai were arguing playfully over whether a tomato was a fruit or a vegetable, Amelie was already yawning, and Nora was carefully gathering plates.

But through it all, Eli's mind wasn't in the room.

His eyes kept flickering toward the hallway, where Amelia had disappeared hours ago.

She hadn't come down. Not once. Not even for the garlic bread she secretly adored.

He waited until the others began heading to their rooms, then slipped away.

The hallway was dimly lit, the soft yellow glow from a nearby lamp casting long shadows on the wooden floor.

Eli stood in front of her door, hesitated, then gently knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again, softer. "Millie?"

A pause. Then her voice, muffled, came through. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

He smiled faintly at her usual sass. "Shouldn't you be in my trivia team? We lost, you know."

A shuffle of movement inside.

She opened the door slowly, just enough to peek out.

Her hair was down now, face fresh, and eyes rimmed with the quiet kind of tiredness. "It's late, Eli."

"I know." He leaned against the doorframe. "Just wanted to see if you were okay."

Amelia looked away. "You already asked that earlier today."

"I know," he said again. "But I still didn't get an answer."

She looked at him then, long and still. "I just needed space."

Eli's voice lowered. "From me?"

She hesitated, then opened the door a little wider. "Come in. But just for a minute."

He entered carefully, like stepping onto sacred ground.

Her room smelled like lavender and something familiar, like soft rain and the past. She sat at the edge of the bed.

He stayed by the door.

"You're avoiding me," he said quietly.

"I'm avoiding drama," she corrected, folding her arms.

"Eli stepped forward, not close, but closer.

"Is it that hard being near me?"

"Eli…" She sighed. "I don't want to be the reason something breaks.

We came here for our friendship anniversary, not... this twisted web."

"But what if I want to untangle it?" His voice trembled slightly.

Amelia shook her head. "Shouldn't be in my room by this time," she murmured, eyes lowered.

"Since when?" Eli asked, his voice soft.

She didn't reply. Just looked away again.

"I miss you," he said.

She smiled faintly. "You miss what we were. Not what we are now."

He didn't deny it.

She stood. "Goodnight, Eli."

Understanding the line she was drawing, Eli gave a small nod. "Night, Amelia."

And he left, gently closing the door behind him.

Later That Night: A Small Gift, A Bigger Message

Downstairs, Nora slipped a little box into Kai's hand. "Pass it to her room. Quietly."

Inside was a tiny note:

"Game night wasn't the same without you. And garlic bread doesn't taste right when you're not fighting for the last piece. We miss you. Always your weird little crew."

They taped it to the bag of leftover bread and left it outside her door.

When Amelia opened the door a few minutes later to check if the hallway was empty, she saw it, smiled in surprise, and gently picked it up.

Her eyes softened at the handwriting, and for the first time that night, she chuckled softly to herself.

Amelia's Quiet Response

Later, she curled up on her bed with her phone in hand and began to type out a message.

It was for Nora, but maybe… maybe it was meant for all of them.

Amelia:

I'm sorry for being distant.

It's just... hard carrying feelings when you don't know where they belong, or who might get hurt by them.

I'm trying to protect the group.

And maybe… protect myself too.

Thank you for not forgetting me tonight. That meant more than you think.

I'll try. To be present. Even if quietly.

Love you all.

Amelia 💛

She stared at it for a long time before hitting send.

Some silences carry weight, but others carry healing.