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Shoot my shotShoot my shotSCORED.SCORED.The Story We Never Meant to Write.@crimsonfilmm
Every love story has that one moment people like to ask about. “So… how did you two meet?” I always laugh because our answer is probably the least romantic one possible. We met in a place where the music was loud enough to drown whatever I was trying not to feel.
I was there carrying a heart that had just been through more than it knew how to hold. I wasn’t looking for anything that night —not closure, not love, not even conversation. I just wanted the world to quiet down for a while. Then there was you. We had plenty of mutual friends, so meeting wasn’t exactly fate knocking on the door. It was more like life casually introducing two people who had somehow never crossed paths before.
At one point, you let me drink from your cup. It was such an ordinary moment that anyone else would’ve forgotten it. I never did. Later, you asked me to play billiards. Before long, everyone was teasing me, making jokes and throwing around ridiculous bets. Then, completely out of nowhere, you joined in. “Ten thousand and ____.” (iykyk) HAHA The table burst into laughter. You were laughing. I was laughing. Everyone was laughing. It was one of those jokes that should’ve ended the moment the night did. Instead, it became the first page of our story. The next morning, I woke up with a hangover and a notification. It was you.
Except the joke was never that simple. You were the one looking for me to claim your bet, while I was the one who would claim mine when I was finally ready. And the other bet you were teasing about was something far more private and ridiculous, which made the whole thing even funnier. So I messaged you back just to tease our friends: “As long as I have no one, I’ll make you my so- called girlfriend.” You agreed. Neither of us knew that pretending would become the easiest part.
We started spending time together because it was fun. Coffee became a habit. Trying new restaurants became our excuse to see each other again. We wandered through shops with nothing to buy, took spontaneous drives with nowhere important to be, and somehow turned ordinary days into memories I still replay in my head. Nothing dramatic happened.
There wasn’t one life-changing conversation or one movie-worthy scene. It was simply this quiet feeling that kept growing every time I was with you. Until one day, I realized I had already crossed the line between enjoying your company and missing you before we’d even said goodbye. That’s when I knew. So I told you. Not with rehearsed words or impossible promises. Just honesty. I told you my intentions were genuine. That I wanted to know you beyond the jokes, beyond the pretending, beyond whatever this was becoming. So I courted you.
Then, one random day—almost as casually as everything else had begun—you posted an Instagram Note. Three letters. YES. No grand announcement. No audience. Just three letters on a screen.
It’s funny how something so small could change everything. I’ve thought about that “yes” more times than I can count. Not because it meant I finally got the answer I was hoping for, but because I know what I looked like when you gave it. I was still healing. Still figuring life out. Still trying to become someone I could be proud of. You could’ve waited for a more polished version of me. Instead, you chose the one who was still learning. And maybe that’s my favorite part of us. You never asked me to arrive as someone else. You simply walked beside the person I already was. Looking back now, our story doesn’t feel like fate. It feels like a series of ordinary moments that quietly refused to stay ordinary.
A shared drink. A game of billiards. A ridiculous ten-thousand-peso bet. One message after a hangover. Coffee after coffee. Road trips without much of a plan. A confession. Three letters. YES. Sometimes people think love begins with fireworks. I think ours began with laughter. And maybe that’s why it still feels so easy. Because before you became the person I love, you became the person I could laugh with.
I took a chance on a joke. You took a chance on me. Somehow, both of us won. Maybe that’s what the title has meant all along. Shoot my shot. Scored.