I knew I was doing a Claudia Heinz. And said real Claudia Heinz was not at all amused by the stunt I was pulling.

"He's an idiot, Naddy," was her final piece, wrought out from her warring mind I could just see since a while ago was seriously debating if she was going to say something about him or not. She kept stilting, making faces, and even making odd sounds whenever Jason spoke or did something. Mostly, she rolled her eyes and huffed.

I only needed thirty more minutes before she finally had enough, pulled me away from him with a flung excuse that we were going to need some private girl time now, bye and decided to lay it on me once and for all.

"I'm sorry, but this is your worst one yet," she said, her tone huffy and irritated. "He's not just an idiot— he's also dickish. Not even ish, he's literally a dick. And I bet my damn cream cheese, he's not even that good."

I snorted through the iced tea I was sipping, nearly causing a mess with the straw and my sinuses. I winced out a smile. "My sex life is a private affair."

Claudia reared back. "Since when?"

I slapped her arm, giggling, but she barely twitched out a grin.

"I'm being serious, Nads. He's literally not it. What's worse is that before this prick, the line of succession was pristine. They were royalty and I know, dear lord I know, that the sex was good because you were so nice and your hair was always like, amazing. You know that bitch was doing her hair after a good night of getting it tangled."

"Claudia Heinz."

"It's true! And I love you, I love you too much for me to keep quiet about this. I mean seriously. Compared to your last boys, Freddie, Asher, and Bucky— Jason's a joke. Not even a joke. Before he opened his mouth, he'd get kicked out of the throne room with his joker hat ripped out of his tawny little head."

"Wow," I said. "That's really... that's something."

Claudia blew a raspberry. "It came from both my heart and my cerebral cortex. But also seriously, this guy, my girl. My girl. Please. Breakup with the fool. You deserve someone better than a cloudy may or may not be racist."

I made a face. "When did he?"

"Maybe a while ago he said something, but it was a super vague statement that I just shrugged it off. But that's the only hall pass he'll get from me. One more douchebaggy, vaguely racist bullshit comes spewing out of his mouth and I'll personally drop kick him out of your life." Taking a breath, she turned to the bra shop just beside us. "Now, I actually do need private girl talk because I need a new brassier and I'd rather die than have your disgrace of a new boy toy in the same space as me trying on bras."

"Is that it? I thought it'd be longer."

Claudia sighed. "It's still your life, Nads. You decide who gets in and out and who has permanent residence. I know Jason is pretty much just a fling, but if you're only using him as a relationship meat shield against your... inner disturbances and confusions with a certain Kor-Am boy, then even I feel bad for Jason McDouche Pants. Not as much as I do you, because I just know he gets lost trying to find his way down there."

I kept snorting, spilling my iced tea and choking in it. "Seriously, Claudia."

She raised her hands in surrender. "I'm just here, stating my opinions as one of your closest friends. Also the only one who has the balls to stay it to your face without spewing profanity in between takes."

I took her hand and she squeezed in comfort. "... Esther?"

"Esther."

"So everyone doesn't like him?"

Claudia nodded. "He's cute, but he's average cute, you know? Not enough consolation for the few brain cells he has and proudly flaunting. Maybe the bartender gig was kind of a trap— anyone can look good in dim lighting, especially if you're serving you alcohol. Oh God. It's a strategized trap."

I snorted. "Wow. Well... Ella's throwing a party next week. Might be easier to break up with someone with a consumption of alcohol?" Claudia's concerns were fair, and if this was a prevalent opinion among my closest confidants, it's better to listen. Apart from the brief dalliance not taking root anything particularly special to hold onto, from the time to my own feelings— I wasn't going to date someone who could possibly offend one of my closests friends in the worst way.

Claudia shrugged. "Sure. Also... have you talked to Bucky? Like properly, since you came back?"

I nibbled on my lip. "No, not really. I've been busy with classes and Jason and... too afraid to look him in the eye?"

"Well... at least you know that you're afraid." Claudia stopped us, tugging my wrist so we were face to face. Claudia and I were roughly the same height, but she enjoyed heels more and with modeling gigs on the side, it helped practice with her posture and poses, so her height that usually met mine, made me uncomfortable when she got serious like this. "Naddy, be honest with me."

"Sure... ?"

"Do you like Bucky or are you mixing signals and emotions with his comforting presence?"

I blinked, my heart stuttering. "Seriously?"

"Do I look like I'm making a knock knock joke, woman?"

I blinked again, swallowing. "I don't know."

"Naddy..."

"I'm afraid of it, okay? Because... there's something there. That I feel. That's not concrete. That I'm not sure what it... is. And I'm waiting for it to fade, because come on, this is Bucky. He's my friend. I'm helping him date other women. It's the proximity, his natural charm—"

"— your undeniable chemistry —"

"— okay, that. Sure."

"There is." Claudia's face softened. "What if it's legit?"

"But what if it isn't?" I countered, voice softer. Fear seeped into those words. I knew who I was, I knew my emotions. I knew my relationship with people. I should know who Bucky is to me. But these emotions blur them. Make him murky. I had my life planned out. I knew all the formulas with people, with dating, with life. I promised myself that I was never getting into a serious relationship, not after Hollis. That I was going to focus on myself, on my art, my future until I was ready.

Bucky entering my present is making it harder to see my future.

And that was scaring me.

Claudia must've sensed the battle tearing itself apart in my head, all the thoughts and emotions I kept in a tin and pushed back to the very back of my mind with everything else. With the present. Bucky tore through my thoughts and blurred my perfect view of the future, refocusing it on him, standing in front of me, with a smile and a wave.

Hi Naddy, I could just picture him mouthing.

If I look at him too long, think about him for too long, actually sort through the mess that I feel for him— it scares me to think that he might change the entire formula in how I set my life together.

"The puzzle's perfect, Claudia," I whispered as she enveloped me in a sudden hug. I always had a sure footing. But I was shaky now, crumbly. I took a deep breath, trying to regain back balance. "Bucky is a piece that I'm starting to realize doesn't fit as perfectly as I thought."

After the mall expedition, Jason dropped Claudia off to her film club's building, citing that she had a dramatic men-directed bullshit to wade through and half-heartedly thanked Jason, while he circled me back to the arts building where my Art History research was not going to do itself.

"So," he said as I took out my things, swiping him a quick peck while my conversation with Claudia still spun in my head. He peeked his head out the window, his gelled hair still perfectly situated, not even a strand out of place. "I'm probably going to be too busy to text you, babe. I have a gig down in Long Island— some private beach party for some rich senior citizens, so I'm going to be busy this weekend."

"Mm. All weekend?"

His face skewered. "Yeah, babe, it sucks. But work is work."

"No, no I understand. Try to have fun?" I offered a smile, assuring him.

He smiled back, then moved around, almost as if he wanted to come down and do a proper goodbye, but I shook my head, still smiling. I was already looking back to my building. I only signed up for four hours, a miracle in itself. New York was an expensive place to even rent an apartment, much less a studio space friendly for a college student. Our university, thank god, had spaces for us, but it's a cutthroat competition that involved a lot of begging, borrowing, and stealing just to get a few hours.

Four hours was a miracle for a solo self-study room.

"I still have things to do," I assured him. "We can meet right after the weekend."

"Oh. Yeah, right. Right." He retreated slowly back, easing in. Then he winked. "Don't miss me too much though."

"Oh, I won't."

He smiled weirdly, nodded, then sped off. Honking once.

It was scary how easy it is to feel relieved by that. By knowing I won't have to face him nor my feelings about him just after my conversation with Claudia. I didn't want to look into it, too scared to even let myself think once about it.

I sighed. I had more pressing matters to do, and I didn't need the complications.

Bucky and I had already met a few times beforehand. It wasn't new that I was good at deflecting, that I was good at encouraging, that I was damn good at focusing on what I needed to focus.

I never demanded an explanation and I never needed an explanation. Though a few times in the beginning, just fresh out of the holiday, I felt he wanted to explain, to clear the air, I chose to place it quickly for what it was— something that happened between two exes. End of story. Then I moved on. I smirked at him, called him sneaky, he blushed, then we both let it go.

Easy as one, two, three.

Re-aligning all my cards, protecting all my bases.

It was relieving not to go through the awkwardness, but also how easy it was to put it behind us and focus on what was more important. It was also a gentle reminder of our relationship and who we were to each other.

Bucky was dear to me because he was my friend, and all the twists and turns, the maybes and the little peek throughs of what could be is the simple fact of proximity and all the light flirting.

That, as much, I can admit.

So it wasn't shocking that I was smiling as he pulled up with his new car— his older sister's, Leia's, finally his as his younger sister, Hermione, got his — four hours after Jason dropped me off at the very same spot.

It was dark, too dark to walk on my own for the bus stop on the other side of campus.

"Again," I said as a greeting while I shuffled my things in his car and strapped myself. Heavy tomes and about four binders are also a hell of a lot to tote around. "I apologize for ruining any evening plans, but so eternally grateful for your presence and your very nice vehicle."

He chuckled, pulling out of the curb and off we went. It felt good to be in the same space together, to interact naturally. Everything was normal. "I couldn't possibly leave a woman alone to fend for herself. In the cold, in the dark."

"Human decency really, right?"

He nodded, smiling. "That's me. Human... and decent."

I laughed. "You look good." His hair was cut during Thanksgiving, a courtesy of his mother complaining he was starting to look like a frontman for an early 90s band, but it was still fairly longish, and curled nicely around his face. "The dark blue of the sweater looks nice on you."

He inclined his head. "Thank you."

Then I narrowed my eyes. "Nice clothes, smells great, the hair too perfectly messy to be a coincidence— and did you shave? Shaved and buffed. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I get this wrong. Buchannan Dae Choi, you're going on a hot date tonight, aren't you?"

Bucky exhaled out a laugh. "Wouldn't describe it as hot. It's the third date so it's mostly chill. We're going out to a drive-by cinema."

"In this cold? I mean it's a cute idea, but it is nearing frost, I don't think that one sweater is going to save you if it starts snowing."

"Fair enough. It's indoors. In a warehouse just off East Side. I wouldn't want us to recreate the Titanic, sans the water."

I blinked. "Manhattan?"

He nodded, smiling. "I'm glad I've made you proud, master."

I couldn't help it, I snorted. Loudly. "I am. I mean we'll work on the master calling, but wow. Wow. That's gotta be expensive. A cinema drive-by. In one of the busiest cities in the world."

"Oh, I got them for free. My sister had tickets and she gave some to me."

"As a college student, I am proud of you. The best bargains are free stuff. As your Jedi Master, I am extremely proud. I'm glad things are going smoothly for you. Also that's such a cute date."

He smiled. Dimpled and pretty. "Thank you, thank you. And what about you? How's becoming an art master going?"

I sighed, settling back in my seat.

He briefly turned, raising an eyebrow. "That was a long sigh."

"Yes, well, exhausting and worth it. I'm doing this project right now, for a competition for one of my professors. She'll choose five from class who can have the opportunity to showcase on a small scale, in the Upper East Side. It'll be a five day trip, three day exhibit. It will be an amazing opportunity to win because she's a renowned art critic and she has a lot of high-end friends, a good portion of are very important people in the fashion industry. The high end artistic side."

Bucky nodded. "The side you really want to work with."

I pointed a pen at him. "Exactly." I liked this part of my friendship with Bucky; talking to him about school stuff was easy. We could understand each other to a certain degree, and it was so fun and stress-relieving to be able to talk to someone about internship troubles and future plans.

"It'll be a first taste of a really, really amazing once in a lifetime thing."

"But a showcase is a stressful, anxiety-inducing problem that has too much coffee and not enough sleep," he continued.

"And breakdowns. You can't forget about the breakdowns."

"Of course. Can't forget about that."

I laughed lightly, pressing on the corner of my temple and trying to massage the exhaustion before it becomes a headache.

Just thinking about everything I had to do, my planner filled to the brim with notes and highlights and red exclamation points— was making me sweat with exhaustion and anticipation. Professor Bianchi was known all around the world, even before she became an art critic. If I was showcased as one of her students in the gallery, in Manhattan no less, it'll put my name in the right places and with the right people.

To pass it up would be an incredible loss. In this world, you always pick your opportunities and the people who you want to represent or be presented by. These things are rare.

And to prioritize anything else will cost you.

That's why I couldn't sweat out Jason leaving, or Claudia's statements that still echo in my head. I could focus on that mess after the showcase. In my list of to dos, quarterly goals, and ten year time plans— all of that are in the bottom barrier.

"But hey, it sounds amazing," Bucky said, earnest and wonderful. "I mean it sounds stressful and still breakdown worthy, of course, because five slots from an entire class... Is that why you've been working late?"

I nodded. "It's a small war fighting for studio rights. Everyone wants at least two hours. I got lucky tonight and managed to book four. But it's dangerous to walk so I had no choice but to bother people with cars. Hence my eternal gratefulness for your existence."

"Please. Continue to bother my eternal gratitude rather than walk alone or ride the bus home." He smiled. "You can add my name to your dedication when you win a spot at the showcase."

I laughed. "Alright. Thanks, Buck. If I miraculously get a spot for the showcase, you're invited to come. Free booze, and I get to take as many as three people. Ross definitely wants to come. He's waiting for the day he can embarrass me in front of many enough people when I get recognition or an award. He thinks they send out awards if you get placed in the Met or something."

Bucky laughed. "To be fair they should. I've seen some of your sketches. They're brilliant. And the amount of people who compliment me on my looks and the way I dress have rounded up to ninety percent."

I couldn't help it, my work was my pride. I tilted my chin down, feeling a blush creep my cheeks. "Thank you. To be fair, you're a gorgeous model."

"That, I would like to be grateful for my parents."

"Thank fucking God for your genes, Mr. and Mrs. Choi."

We round up to the corner of my apartment. The lights are closed save for the porch light. My neighbor, a senior in Philosophy, was strumming her guitar on the steps. She waved in greeting.

I picked up my things and snapped the seatbelt. "Thanks again."

"Did you know you've thanked me enough to last a lifetime?"

I rolled my eyes, grinning. "Can't you just think that I am extremely grateful?"

"Just text me the next time you need to get picked up." He looked up from the window just as I slammed it. "Okay? It's never a bad bother."

I couldn't help it, I smiled. "There's a good kind of bother?"

"There is, if it means I know you'd be safe."

Oh, how unfair, who could win against that? I nodded instead. "Okay. Good luck on the date, Choi. Text me the need-to-know details."

"As always. Good luck on your showcase, Lynch. Although I have a feeling you won't need it."

He threw in a wink before he sped off, an uncharacteristic move that left me speechless. He had a half-lifted smile, such sincerity in his eyes, before he threw in that deadly little wink.

I shook my head, hitching my bag up, aware of the ends of my lips twisted upward and unable to stop. "Why do I feel like I just got my master status stripped?"

It was a good choice not to sweat out the men in my life.