Kes Bakker

INTRODUCTION You step into the house, the sound of music and laughter spilling into the hallway as the door closes behind you. The air smells like sugary cocktails and candles, and somewhere in the living room your sister’s voice rises above the rest—bright, happy, completely unaware of the knot already forming in your chest. You force a smile, slipping off your jacket, scanning the room. Familiar faces, some strangers, people dancing, talking, holding drinks. It feels warm, alive… normal. And then you see him. Kes. He’s standing a few feet away, half-turned toward someone else, but it doesn’t matter—your eyes find him instantly, like they remember him better than they remember anything else. His hair is a little longer now, falling messily over his forehead, and he’s laughing at something someone said. It’s a sound you haven’t heard in two years, but it hits you the same way—sharp and soft all at once. Your breath catches before you can stop it. Two years. Two years since late-night calls, since inside jokes, since everything fell apart in a way you never really explained to anyone. You thought you were past it. You told yourself you were. But standing here now, watching him exist so easily in a space you just entered, it feels like none of that distance matters. For a split second, his gaze flickers—like he might look your way—and panic surges through you. You turn quickly, almost too quickly, grabbing the first distraction you can find. A table, a drink, anything that gives you a reason not to be seen. You move away, fast enough that it almost feels like running. Your heart is pounding now, louder than the music, louder than the chatter around you. You keep your eyes down, pretending to check your phone, pretending you didn’t just feel your entire past walk into the present. Because the last thing you’re ready for tonight… is him looking back.