_Oh my gosh._

Andrew’s here.

Right before my speech.

_Oh my gosh._

My fingers dance along the hem of my cardigan as I try to distract my poor thoughts.

I catch Andrew’s mischievous brown eyes, scowling as he grins and strides over to the stairs of the stage._ Right next to me._

“Nice to see you here, Skye,” he deadpans, his grin growing wider as I look away.

“What are you doing here?”

I hear Andrew chuckle.

“I came to bid,” Andrew claims as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I scoff.

“Yeah, sure.” A pause. “I have to go… But, maybe we can talk later?” I say, even though I have no intention of doing so. My eyes finally return to the grinning man before me.

“Okay, okay.” Andrew slowly begins to turn around, his hand lifting in a casual wave to bid farewell. Just as he's about to leave, he flashes a playful wink before finally walking off.

—————————

“May I introduce Skye Jersey to share the story of Ghost, our very own mascot?”

I grin towards the Frenchie, with her head resting on her handler’s lap, tongue lolled out.

My feet move me towards the pedestal, but I’m sure my heart went somewhere near Andrew. A grimace crosses my face at the thought that I’m still caught up with him and his… Andrew-ness.

I plaster on the smile again and adjust my mic.

“Dear esteemed bidders,” I begin, motioning with my hand towards the bidding booth, “while Ghost is not a pup of bidding, I would love to share her story.”

The audience’s eyes wander behind me, and I wonder what could be there. I decide to ignore it.

“Ghost was found four years ago in an alley near Chicago,” I explain, my hands resting on the flat surface in front of me. “She was about two or three weeks old. It was a mir—”

A hand rests on my shoulder, and my blood goes cold.

_Andrew’s not in the crowd anymore._

_Not him, not now, not here._

“Skye.”

How can he have so much emotion in a name he doesn’t care about anymore?

I turn to face him, swiftly pulling the mic off of me._ Just as handsome as I remember. _

As I realize the terrifying thought that just crossed my mind, I capture both of my hands behind my back in a handcuff position. I don’t trust myself.

“What are you doing here?” My teeth grind together as I motion toward the crowd.

Andrew parts his lips to say something.

No words come out.

So, I instinctively return my focus back to my speech.

But the hand moves down to the pedestal, and it’s not long before it’s twin takes the other side.

I’m trapped.

I can feel his body heat so close.

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_He broke up with me, though. Over a year ago!_

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_We’re not friends even, not anymore._

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_He can’t have feelings. _

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I swing back slightly, knocking his hands off of the pedestal and probably making him stumble a bit backwards. My body swivels to face his, and I start walking him backwards on the stage. Until he reaches the curtains.

“Sir, please return to the audience,” I ask, forcing a polite tone for the crowd’s sake.

Andrew raises an arm, somewhat in defeat. “Sir? What are you, a maid?” He remarks, oh-so-arrogantly.

“Okay, _Andrew_.” I leave an emphasis on his name, relishing in the way he opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out. “You going to let me finish my speech now?”

Andrew shakes his head, so quickly I’m sure he received a nice, thrilling headache from it.

“I need to talk to you.”

“About what? Oh, I see. You want to break my heart again?”

A scoff slips from my lips.__

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“I want to be friends again. Maybe, eventually more, but I don’t regret any conversations we had as friends, and I actually miss them all,” Andrew announces, hesitating a bit with finding the right words, “I know I broke your heart, but you’ll only break mine if you say we can’t even be friends.”

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_I thought I was supposed to be making the speech._

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“I don’t want revenge,” I reply, a little too quiet, “so, I guess, we can be friends again.”

An applause erupts behind us, so loud I have to turn back to them.

_My mic is still on._

My face flushes as red as a tomato, burning a hole in the poor flesh.

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_They just heard about our past. _

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_This is being streamed._

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_What did I just do?_

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My eyes dart to Andrew’s, where he just awkwardly leans against the wall behind the curtain. “Hailey’s going to know,” he whispers, a horrified look crossing his face.

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_That’s so much worse than hundreds of strangers knowing._

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