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David was thriving at MIT in ways that even he hadn't anticipated. His professors quickly recognized his extraordinary talent for engineering and robotics. By his sophomore year, he was spearheading projects, mentoring other students, and earning opportunities to compete in robotics competitions across the country. His name was becoming known in the industry, and offers for internships and research positions were already piling up.
Brady, meanwhile, wasn't doing anything that felt nearly as exciting. The University of Chicago was everything he'd hoped it would be--stimulating classes, brilliant professors, and access to a world of literature and philosophy he could lose himself in. But compared to David's whirlwind successes, his life felt...ordinary.
That's when he met Kelly.
They'd been paired up for a group project in one of his humanities classes. Kelly was sharp, witty, and had a way of challenging Brady's ideas that he found thrilling. She had long brown hair, expressive hazel eyes, and a smile that lit up a room. They started sitting together in lectures, studying in the library, and grabbing coffee after class.
One afternoon, as they walked out of the library together, Kelly turned to him with a curious look. "So, Brady... what's your story? Are you... seeing anyone?"
The question caught him off guard. Kelly's tone was casual, almost offhanded, but her eyes betrayed a deeper interest. Brady hesitated for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt.
"Not... really," he said carefully.
Kelly smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Cool," she said, leaving the comment hanging in the air.
Brady didn't correct her. He didn't mention David. Instead, he let himself bask in the warmth of Kelly's attention. There was something about her--something magnetic--that he couldn't ignore.
As they spent more time together, Brady began to feel a chemistry with Kelly that he hadn't felt with a girl before. It was different from what he'd felt with David, but no less real. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he knew it was confusing him.
One evening, during their increasingly rare phone calls, Brady and David had a conversation that turned into something more heated than either of them expected.
"You've been so busy," Brady said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I feel like I barely hear from you anymore."
David sighed on the other end of the line. "Brady, you know how crazy things are right now. These competitions... they're a huge deal for me."
"I get that," Brady said, his tone sharpening. "But it's like you don't even care about us anymore."
"Of course I care," David said, his voice rising. "But what do you want me to do, Brady? Drop everything? I'm trying to make something of myself here."
Brady paused, the words catching in his throat. He thought about Kelly, about how easy it was to talk to her, how she was here, in his life, not a thousand miles away.
"Maybe this isn't going to work," Brady said quietly.
David was silent for a moment. "What?"
"The distance... it's too much," Brady continued, forcing himself to say the words. "We're growing apart, David. I don't think this is working anymore."
David's voice cracked when he finally spoke. "So that's it? After everything, you're just... done?"
Brady closed his eyes, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I don't know what else to say."
David took a shaky breath. "If that's how you feel, then... okay. I guess we should just... end it."
When the call ended, Brady felt an overwhelming mixture of emotions--relief, guilt, sadness, and, somewhere beneath it all, a flicker of excitement about Kelly.
But for David, the heartbreak was all-consuming. He sat on his bed, replaying their conversation over and over in his mind. He thought about their first kiss on his porch, the nights they spent talking for hours, the promises they made. And he felt guilty. Maybe he did neglect Brady. Maybe he did focus too much on his college life, at his boyfriend's expense.
David buried his face in his hands and wept. He felt like he'd lost a piece of himself, and the pain of it was almost unbearable.
And as Brady lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a terrible mistake.