Ronnie unplugged the phone. It had died sometime during his all-night scroll through Rhea’s profile, drowning in memories he couldn’t let go. The screen lit up, but the wallpaper—a vibrant Vietnam rice field—was ash-grey. Every IG story, reel, and post was the same: grey and lifeless.

“Great! Just what I needed!” Ronnie muttered. “Dad’s gonna kill me!”

His phone buzzed. It was Jared, his newest friend. “Tell me, you wanna punish that bitch?”

That bitch… Rhea was the girl he had loved forever. She was the one who had rejected him. His eyes watered as he scrolled through her profile page. Her smile sparkled, even in the greyed-out screen. She hadn’t lost anything.

Unlike him.

He had lost everything. The guys at school called him a loser. Rhea was not talking to him anymore. He had saved six months of pocket money to get her the perfect gift. It now lay unwrapped on his study table, the red hearts dulled to brown.

Ronnie’s chest tightened. Dark streaks appeared on the screen. “How could she?!” The room turned darker, as did the phone screen.

Ronnie’s thumb hovered over the phone as it buzzed again. It was Jared again. “I know someone who’s an expert. One morphed photo, and she’ll learn her lesson. How dare she reject you? Be a man, bro!”

The phone screen turned a fiery red. The texts vanished. Static replaced his favourite playlist. Just one word to Jared, and it would be done.

But did he want that?

He pressed his hands against his ears, but couldn’t block Rhea’s voice. When he proposed to her at lunch break, her face turned ashen. She walked away silently. But later, at his home, she held his hand, “Ronnie, I can never think of dating you. You are my best friend.”

But he’d been too blinded by rage to hear the truth in her words.

He curled under the bed, his body trembled like a twig weathering a storm. Memories crashed into him like a wave—shared lunches, fights, jokes, racing around the park, even the times when Rhea tied his shoelaces, but most of all, she’d been with him all through his mom’s battle against cancer.  

“How could I think of hurting her! I’m such a fool.” When he picked up the phone, it felt warm, not scalding.

Trembling, he typed, “I’m sorry for acting like an idiot.”

He held his breath, watching the three dots dancing on the screen.

“It’s okay. Forget about it.”

“You’ve forgiven me?”

“Just shut up and come over. We’ve got Chem theory tomorrow.”

The walls opened up, the colours around him softened, the playlist restarted, and the texts appeared normal once again. Ronnie laughed shakily, not wiping the tears that felt like spring rain.

“Jared, we’re done.” He blocked Jared, picked up his Chemistry books, and bicycle keys.

The sky was blue again, the phone in his pocket felt light, and so did his heart.