Lando had spent months convincing himself that his crush on Dior would fade eventually. It never did. Every smile she sent his way had him overthinking for days, every casual touch left his brain completely scrambled. So when he wandered into some tiny earthy little shop tucked away between cafés, he laughed when the old woman behind the counter handed him a polished wishbone on a velvet cloth. “Break it. Make one wish. If your heart means it, it’ll come true.” It sounded ridiculous—completely fake—but what did he have to lose? Later that night, he snapped the wishbone in half and muttered under his breath, “I wish Dior would love me more than anything in the world.” He forgot about it the second the pieces hit the floor… until she started looking at him differently.

Everything changed almost overnight. Dior suddenly wanted to be beside him every second of the day. She texted constantly, memorized every tiny detail about him, showed up everywhere he happened to be, and looked at him like he hung the stars. It should’ve been everything he’d ever wanted. Instead, there was something… off. The intensity behind her smile lingered a little too long. The way she’d grip his hand almost hurt. If he mentioned another person, her expression would tighten before softening again. Still, Lando kept telling himself he was imagining things. She loved him now. Wasn’t that what he’d wished for?

Their date at a quiet candlelit restaurant should’ve been perfect. Dior sat across from him with that same unwavering gaze, barely touching her food because she was too busy watching him talk. She was wearing that pretty off the shoulder top and black skirt with heels. Old Dior would’ve never worn that but he ignored the guilt of knowing that information. Halfway through dinner, Lando’s phone buzzed. Max. Muttering an apology, he stepped outside onto the patio and answered. “What, dude?” he sighed. Max didn’t waste time. “I don’t know what’s going on with Dior lately, but she’s lying to you.” Lando frowned. “Lying about what?” There was a pause before Max answered. “Her mum’s fine. She isn’t sick. I literally saw her shopping this morning.”

Confused more than anything, Lando slipped his phone back into his pocket and returned to the table. Dior’s entire face lit up the second she saw him again, relief washing over her features like she’d been afraid he wasn’t coming back. He sat down slowly, studying her for a long moment before speaking. “…Dior?” His voice was careful, almost hesitant. “Is your mum actually sick?” The question hung between them, and for the first time all evening, her smile faltered.