An Ode to a “Promise” (a love story, inspired by Vien’s life and a Laufey song)

the boy from south of somewhere.

And there he sat on the train.

The boy from south of somewhere headed up the countryside to visit the one person who brought him a whole lot of comfort and craziness and coziness and care and – above all – compassion.

Little did he know that he’d bury all that for the greater good. Little did he know that the ride home would be filled with “what if”-s and “i should’ve”-s. Little did either of them know how the other felt about the other.

But that’s not where we are just yet. We’re simply in the context.

There he sat on the train, journeying up a valley between an ocean and some of the tallest mountains south of Alaska.

The train pulled into the station and there they were. Staring at each other.

Two friends.

Neither knowing how one or the other felt about the other.

Before he knew it, the boy from south of somewhere was in the other’s car.

And there he sat in the passenger seat.

People set up fireworks and sparklers and other pyrotechnics in their yards, from their porches, and on the streets, as the two friends wheeled past.

He watched these people go about their lives, not ready to face the tension between him and the friend across the PRNDL. He honestly couldn’t believe that the two of them were there together either. It hadn’t set in. It wouldn’t set in. Not until…

*Ding. Ding. Ding.*

The driver’s door opened and the car reminded its owner that the keys were still in the ignition.

He woke up from his locked gaze and faced the music.

He was at the house of someone who just three months prior, he wouldn’t have even known nor have really cared about.

Three months ago when he asked the other out.

Three months ago when he made the promise.

“I made a promise. To distance myself.”

“How do you tell a friend that you think their friend is cute?”

That’s how the boy from south of somewhere put it at the time (to a mutual friend, if it wasn’t clear).

He told himself at the beginning of the school year: take more risks.

The previous year had been defined by being pushed into very dark places by people with the worst of intentions. This year was going to be different.

So he took a leap of faith and asked the other out on a date – even if they were miles apart.

Honestly, it was coming from a good place.

After hours of talking over the air, it was clear there was at least some sort of connection at hand.

But the other had another and the boy from south of somewhere was raised with respect.

So he forgot about his feelings and the two of them became good friends.

And now they were in the other’s house together with some of the other’s friends for an end-of-year celebration.

The night was a blur, with games set up and so many life stories shared. Not a single person had romance on their mind. Not one.

And before the clock struck twelve and the party was to be launched into a new year, many of the friends were called to be home with their families. The final New Year’s of their childhoods.

So once they were alone, the friend drove the boy from south of somewhere back to the train station.

The car dinged and dinged again as the two looked at each other.

There was something in the air that night.

“Took a flight through aurora skies.”

And there he sat on the train.

The boy from south of somewhere was on that train, chugging back home before the first dandelions in the sky bloomed and cracked and shone brighter than any star.

Fireworks. They’d always enchanted the boy.

But then his phone went off with a text, the notification seemingly louder than all the peaceful explosions up above.

“I broke up with them. Didn’t want to say it in front of all of the others yet.”

The train bustled on. The clouds blew on. The fireworks, the fireworks, they burst on. And the boy’s brain bunched and busted and bruised and broke and banged on.

“Honestly, I didn’t think about how we didn’t say ‘goodbye’ – just ‘see you very soon.’”

His thoughts raced.

Feelings he hadn’t held for his friend in months suddenly began to resurface.

But he hadn’t been feeling them for months and didn’t want everything through their friendship to feel fake and his friend to think that they were only so close because he wanted to get closer.

He hadn’t felt these feelings in forever and now he was left thinking.

Then steps. Steps proceeding down the walkway towards him.

But the fireworks played on and the thoughts raced on and on and on and on until “on” didn’t mean anything anymore.

The steps got closer.

He knew he hadn’t been feeling that way about this friend in so long but just imagine. Just imagine how much more they know about each other now and imagine how much love they’d be able to share together and just imagine.

Imagine.

What if he said something right now, imagine that?

And the steps kept getting closer.

What if that was the friend, what if he wasn’t on this train alone, what if?

And he looked up.

Just a passenger trying to get to the restroom.

Because why would any of that actually happen.

“It hurts to be something, it’s worse to be nothing with you.”

And there he sat on the train.

Thinking about a promise.

The boy from south of somewhere tapped on his phone. Tap. Tap. Tap. Until…

“Well, sounds like someone left a relationship in 202X, haha. Here if you want to talk ever.”

FIN.

(keep scrolling for some of the author’s “what if”s featured in the penultimate section.)

AUTHOR’S NOTE/WHAT IF’S

Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed this somewhat shorter piece I had wrote for Valentine’s Day. Hope nobody cried or felt like this hit too close to home or anything! This piece, if you couldn’t already tell, was inspired by a situation that I dealt with really early into 2025 and have since come to terms with. If we’re continuing in the context of “Promise” by Laufey, I got to the “No matter how hard I resist temptation, I will always lose” section pretty quickly – two weeks – after what inspired this piece transpired.

Writing an actual love story based on this part of my recent life and tying it to the Laufey song proved to be a very welcome challenge for me and I’m happy to write more Asian-adjacent love stories inspired by my own life experiences set to music by Asian artists in the future. With that said, this situation had to have been my closest miss and would definitely be the one I’d dramatize and turn into a film in the future.

With that being said, you were promised some “what if” scenarios between these two. Who am I to bar you from that? Enjoy and I’ll see you once again next publishing cycle!

— — —

“What if I ask them out right now?”

The boy from south of somewhere thought.

His mind blinked to every night he spent with this friend, gazing up at the ceiling together as they recounted experiences from their lives over the phone. Flashes of scenes of the two of them playing around, just being young, dumb, broke high school kids together.

There’s a potential for love here.

“I mean… there already is — at least platonically.”

And then logic set in.

“They’re gonna think I only stayed friends with them because I wanted to be with them.”

And so he didn’t.

“What if it goes well though?”

A life with this friend never would sound bad.

They had an understanding of each other, they knew much about one another that other people wouldn’t really know.

They’ve certainly opened up to the other many times.

But that’s another reason why it just couldn’t happen.

“Our families would never let this happen.”

And so it didn’t.

“What if he wants someone else? What if I’d just be a rebound? What if…”

These questions went on and on and on.

And slowly, but surely, the boy from south of somewhere would get these answers.

(To be continued, if you so please. Thank you for the support.)

Author: Vien Santiago

Editors: Blenda Y., Luna Y., Alisha B.

Image Source: Andrew Petrov, Unsplash