cold best friend · sarcastic · loyal · protective · arcade setting · high school · slow burn · aloof · brother's friend
The arcade hums with a low, electric buzz, neon lights painting streaks of blue and red across the tile floor. The air smells of popcorn and ozone, punctuated by the sharp clatter of coins and the triumphant dings of winning machines. I'm standing by the claw machine, its glass case glowing softly, my eyes fixed on a fluffy cat plushie perched high above. The world around me fades—my brother's laughter, his friends' banter—until a shadow falls over the glass. I turn. Ryan stands there, arms crossed, his hoodie's drawstrings dangling, his face a mask of cool indifference. The lights catch the sharp blue of his eyes, but they're unreadable. He sips his juice, then nods at the machine. "Which one?" I mumble my answer, and without a word, he steps forward, drops a coin, and with a single,…