Cringgggg! Cringgggg!

I jolted upright, my heart hammering in my chest. My alarm clock blared beside me, the glowing red numbers flashing 7:30 AM.

I groaned, running a hand down my face. My pulse was racing like I had just run a marathon, but why—

And then, it hit me.

Thomas.

The dream.

My breath caught in my throat as the memories flooded back—his confession, the way his lips almost met mine, the way my heart had felt so full, so certain.

But it was all fake.

Just a cruel illusion created by my subconscious.

I sank back into my pillows, exhaling shakily. I could still feel the ghost of his touch, still hear the words he had said so clearly. But none of it was real.

None of it would ever be real.

I hated how much that hurt.

For a brief moment, I let myself pretend. I let myself believe that maybe there was a chance for us—that maybe all the stolen glances, the almost-confessions, the way my heart ached for him meant something.

But dreams were just that—dreams.

And waking up from them only made reality so much harder to face.

I sighed, rolling out of bed before my thoughts could spiral any further.

I had no time to mope over something that wasn't real.

Because today, I had plans.

A road trip.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Last week, Dylan had asked if I wanted to join them for a weekend road trip. Of course, I said yes. Who wouldn't want to go on a road trip with friends?

I needed this.

I needed to get out of my head, to focus on something other than Thomas and my own hopeless feelings.

Shaking off the remnants of my dream, I hopped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away my lingering thoughts.

By the time I was dressed—denim shorts, a loose white top, and my favorite sneakers—I was feeling slightly more like myself.

But the second I heard the honk outside my house, excitement surged through me.

I grabbed my bag and dashed toward the door, nearly tripping over a stray shoe.

"Seriously?" I muttered, kicking it aside before flinging the door open.

The sight that greeted me made me stop in my tracks.

A massive, sleek-looking tour bus was parked in front of my house. The kind of bus that looked like it belonged to a celebrity on a world tour.

My jaw dropped.

They rented this?!

I hurried down the steps, my heart pounding with anticipation. The exterior was gorgeous, but I could only imagine what the inside looked like.

As I climbed up the steps, my suspicions were confirmed.

The interior was stunning. Plush seats, a mini lounge area, and even a small kitchenette—this was luxury on wheels.

"Whoa," I breathed, stepping inside. "Okay, I could definitely live in here."

Laughter erupted from the group already inside.

I spotted Dylan in the driver's seat—because of course, he insisted on driving—and the rest of the gang lounging around, looking just as excited as I felt.

And then, my eyes landed on him.

Thomas.

He was sitting near the window, wearing a simple white t-shirt, jeans, and a flannel.

But somehow, he looked effortlessly... perfect.

It was unfair, really.

I swallowed hard, pushing away the memory of my dream. That wasn't real. Don't make it weird.

"Hey, guys! Morning!" I greeted, forcing myself to be as cheerful as possible.

"Morning, (Y/n)!" They all responded, their energy infectious.

"You seem extra happy today," Kaya teased, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. "Can't a girl be excited for a road trip?"

Dylan turned slightly in his seat, grinning. "Glad you guys could join us. Thomas, (Y/n), you should be thankful the director actually agreed to let you have some time off."

Thomas leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms. "Well, technically, it's not just a day off. The filming got pushed back a whole month, so we don't start again until next month."

"Ohhh," Dylan nodded. "That explains everything."

I glanced at Thomas, who wasn't looking at me.

I wondered if he was thinking about the dream, too.

Wait. He doesn't know about the dream, idiot.

I shook the thought away and settled into my seat, feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement.

This trip was exactly what I needed.

A break from filming. A break from my feelings.

A break from wondering if Thomas would ever see me the way I saw him.

I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, this trip would help me figure out how to let him go.