No strings attached (yeah, right.)

The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

Neither of them spoke.

Han, who had been watching this silent war unfold for the past hour, finally cleared his throat. “Okay, which one of you is going to crack first?”

Max shot him a look. “Crack what? Your tiny little skull?”

Han blinked. “I meant—never mind.”

Oleg, standing by the pass window, snorted. “It’s obvious they had a lover’s spat.”

Caroline made a noise of disgust. “Oh my God, no.”

Max deadpanned. “I’d rather spoon-feed you soup naked than be in a relationship with Caroline.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Oleg grinned. “I do love soup.”

Caroline exhaled sharply and slammed the register shut. “Max, can you stop being a child for two seconds?”

Max turned, resting her elbow on the counter. “Oh, I don’t know, Caroline, can you stop throwing yourself at moneybags for two seconds?”

Han sighed. “I take it back. I prefer the silence.”

Caroline rolled her eyes and grabbed a tray, heading toward a table of customers. Max turned back to the coffee machine, slamming the filter in a little harder than necessary.

The whole shift went like that—passive-aggressive glares, sarcastic remarks, and the occasional “accidental” shoulder bump when they walked past each other.

By the time their break rolled around, Han had had enough. “You two are killing the vibe in here,” he complained, rubbing his temples. “Fix whatever is wrong before the customers start leaving because of secondhand stress.”

Caroline, sitting at the counter with her arms crossed, scoffed. “Tell that to Miss Moody over there.”

Max, leaning against the fridge, shot her a look. “I’m not moody. I’m just allergic to bullshit.”

Caroline’s jaw tightened. “You know what? Fine. Since you’re so desperate to avoid real conversation, I’ll just tell you now—I have a date with Andrew tonight.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Andrew?”

“Yes. Andrew.” Caroline lifted her chin. “That’s his name, since you never bothered to ask.”

Max scoffed. “Oh, forgive me for not immediately adding him to the list of ‘Rich Guys Caroline Falls For In Less Than 24 Hours.’”

Caroline’s nostrils flared. “You’re unbelievable.”

“No, what’s unbelievable is you acting like I’m the bad guy for not throwing confetti every time you get distracted by a guy with a platinum card.”

Han quickly stepped back, sensing an explosion.

Caroline stood up, gripping her tray tightly. “Maybe if you actually dealt with your emotions instead of deflecting with sarcasm, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Maybe if you weren’t so desperate to be Cinderella, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Okay, what’s goin' on with you two?” earl finally called out from the counter.

“Nothing,” Max said, way too fast.

“Absolutely nothing,” Caroline added, her voice tight.

Earl looked back and forth between them, unconvinced. “You’re lyin'. You’re both lyin'. This is exactly how my third marriage ended. What happened?”

Max shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Just working with my totally not-annoying, not-infuriating coworker.”

Caroline gave an exaggerated fake smile. “And I’m working with my completely mature and rational friend.”

They both stared at each other, then turned away at the same time.

Han sighed, rubbing his temples. “Great. Just great. Because what I really need in my diner is an awkward divorce energy.”

“Don’t worry, Han,” Max said, slamming the coffee pot down. “We’ll still pretend to like each other for the customers. It’s what we do best, right, sweetheart?”

Caroline smiled through gritted teeth. “Oh, absolutely, honeybun.”

Han muttered something in Korean and walked away, probably reconsidering all his life choices that led him to hiring them.

At one point, Max nearly collided with Caroline as they continue their shift, Their hands brushing slightly each time thry go take an order from the window, and instead of acknowledging it like a normal person, Max just huffed and snatched the plate away.

Caroline scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I breathing too loudly in your general direction now?”

“Yes, actually,” Max said, shooting her a sarcastic smile. “Maybe hold your breath for the rest of the shift.”

Caroline rolled her eyes but said nothing, instead choosing to stomp away dramatically.

A customer coughed awkwardly from a nearby booth.

Max clenched her jaw, and huffed again. She turned on her heel and walked out the back door.

Caroline let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She grabbed a coffee cup from the counter and squeezed it so hard she thought it might crack.

Han exhaled dramatically. “Wow. That was intense. And yet, somehow, I still care less than I thought I would.”

Caroline groaned and stormed back to work.

Outside, Max leaned against the brick wall of the diner, and lit up a smoke.

She wasn’t mad.

She swears she wasn’t.

But that sick feeling in her stomach wasn’t going away anytime soon.

--------

The bar had barely been open for ten minutes, and the air was already thick with tension. Not from the customers—no, they were happily sipping their overpriced cocktails—but from Max and Caroline, who had barely said two words to each other since stepping inside.

Max was behind the bar, lazily wiping down glasses that were already clean, while Caroline was setting up the register, her movements stiff and too precise.

At one point, Caroline’s phone buzzed on the counter. She glanced at it—Andrew.

Max didn’t even look up. “Tell moneybags I said hi.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Are you seriously still on this?”

Max finally met her gaze, leaning on the bar. “Oh, no, I’m over it. I love that you’re dating another human-sized wallet. It’s my favorite thing about you.”

Caroline exhaled through her nose, setting the phone down harder than necessary. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“Right back at ya, babe.”

A couple of customers walked up, and just like that, they both switched into work mode. Max turned on the charm, flashing her usual smirk, while Caroline straightened up, her voice suddenly all sugar and politeness.

They worked around each other, but every interaction was clipped. Every movement just a little too sharp. Every time Caroline reached for something, Max was already there. Every time Max moved past her, Caroline didn’t budge an inch.

It was petty.

It was childish.

And it wasn’t gonna stop.

Max grabbed the shaker and started mixing a drink, the ice clinking louder than necessary. Caroline was just a few feet away, pretending to sort through the inventory like she wasn’t glaring daggers into Max’s back.

“Are you planning on saying anything anytime soon?” Caroline’s voice was quieter now, not quite a whisper but close enough that it felt like a challenge.

Max didn’t look at her. “I’m busy.” She let the ice settle with a little more force than needed.

“Busy doing what, exactly? Staring at the wall?” Caroline huffed. “Or are you too busy pretending to not care about me dating someone else?”

Max's hand froze on the shaker. The words hit harder than expected. But she was ready for it. “I don’t care. Do what you want, Caroline. I don’t have to approve. Not my circus, not my monkeys.” She finally turned around, meeting Caroline’s gaze with a raised eyebrow. “You’re the one who’s always trying to make it seem like I’m bothered, like I’m jealous. It’s not my fault you’re constantly chasing guys with credit cards.”

Caroline didn’t flinch, but there was a tightness around her eyes now. “It’s not about the money, Max. And you know that. But whatever, keep pretending. Keep being pissed. I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

Max could feel it—the frustration bubbling up again. The sick feeling in her stomach she couldn’t shake. She turned back to the counter, slamming a glass into place. “Then don’t. But you don’t get to act like I’m the problem when you keep running after the same damn thing every time. Maybe you should figure out what’s going on inside before you start pointing fingers at everyone else.”

The silence that followed was thick—heavier than it had been all night. Caroline didn’t speak, but Max could feel her eyes on her, burning. Finally, Caroline broke the quiet. “You think you have me all figured out, huh?”

Max glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting Caroline to snap at her. But her voice was strangely quiet. “I didn’t say that.”

“Well, you might as well have.” Caroline stepped closer to the bar, her posture defensive but not aggressive. “Maybe if you stopped acting like I’m some kind of walking disaster, you’d see that I’m trying. I am trying, Max.”

Max rubbed her temples, trying to push away the tightness in her chest. She wasn’t going to admit it, but the last thing she wanted was for Caroline to start getting emotional now. She wasn’t ready for that. “Trying at what? Dating a new guy every two days?”

Caroline clenched her jaw. “I’m trying to make something out of my life, Max. Something that’s not just surviving. Something that’s not just—” She stopped, clearly frustrated with herself. “Forget it. You wouldn’t get it.”

Max’s gaze softened, just for a second, before she quickly masked it with annoyance. “You want me to get it? You want me to hold your hand through your little romantic adventures?” She scoffed, the sarcasm biting again. “Go ahead, date whoever. I’m sure they’ll all be so thrilled with the ‘real you.’”

Caroline’s lips pressed into a thin line. For a second, it seemed like she might snap, might throw something across the bar. But instead, she just exhaled and turned away.

“I’m done. I don’t know what you want from me, Max. But I’m tired of playing this game.”

Max watched her walk off, her movements stiff. The door to the back room slammed shut.

And just like that, Max was alone behind the bar again.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the counter, the sick feeling in her stomach only growing. She wasn't mad, and she sure as hell wasn't jealous.

But if that was true, then why did it feel like something was missing?

Later that night, when the bar had settled down a bit and the remaining customers were finishing up, Max slipped out the back door. She needed a moment to herself, away from the suffocating tension that had been building all evening.

The cool night air hit her like a slap, but it was a welcome relief. She dug into the pocket of her jacket, fingers brushing against the pack of cigarettes hidden deep inside. Caroline couldn’t know about this stash. Max had hidden them from her ever since Caroline had told her to stop smoking a few weeks ago. (Because apparently weed is fine but a few cigarettes were the end of the world?!) Caroline had gone off about it, calling it disgusting and unhealthy, and had begged Max to quit. So Max had told her she would—just not now.

She leaned against the brick wall, her thumb flicking the lighter. As the flame flickered and the cigarette was lit, she took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill her lungs. She exhaled slowly, the tension in her chest easing just a little.

But then it came—the creeping feeling in her chest, the one that always seemed to find its way in when she least expected it. Her heartbeat started to speed up, her hands growing clammy as the feeling of being trapped settled over her. She tried to focus on her breathing, counting to four as she inhaled, holding it, and exhaling slowly. But the tightness in her throat didn’t ease.

The cigarette dangled between her fingers, but she barely noticed. Max pressed her back into the wall and slid down, sitting on the cold pavement.

She ran her hand through her hair, trying to ground herself, but the anxiety was only growing. The anger from earlier had fizzled into something more frustrating. She cannot describe it.

She hated this. Hated how easily it could sneak up on her when everything seemed fine.

Max took another drag, more out of habit than anything else. She needed to calm down before she could face Caroline again. She couldn’t keep this up—pretending it was all just a joke when, deep down, her mind was working overtime.

But for now, she stayed where she was, letting the smoke settle in her lungs and hoping, just hoping, the tightness in her chest would loosen. She'll quit smoking next week. She convinces herself.