“Everyone Knows Before You Do”

 

https://shop.beacons.ai/beauxjidigital/58b8e6fe-4255-4a6f-83ec-74c1ed0432d1

This is STORY 2, inspired by:

WRITE WHAT HOLDS — Module 2

Theme: Urban Romance as a Genre (Not a Stereotype)

Craft focus: environment, observation, consequence, emotional realism

Question underneath the story: How does the world watch this love?

SHORT STORY 2

“Everyone Knows Before You Do”

By the time Naomi admitted it to herself, three other people already knew.

Her neighbour on the second floor, who started lingering on the stairs when she heard footsteps behind Naomi’s door.

The woman at the nail shop, who stopped asking questions and just smiled knowingly.

And the man at the bus stop, who raised his eyebrows once and said, “That your friend?” like it wasn’t a question.

Urban romance didn’t begin in private.

It began in glances.

Naomi didn’t touch Aaron when he walked her home. Didn’t lean in. Didn’t slow down. She kept a half-step ahead, keys threaded between her fingers out of habit, out of performance.

But the block clocked them anyway.

Aaron didn’t belong to the street the way Naomi did. He moved like someone used to rooms, not corners. Used to doors closing softly behind him. He looked wrong here in a way that made him noticeable — too calm, too clean, too unbothered by the eyes tracking him from balconies and windows.

“People stare,” he said once, not unkindly.

“They always do,” Naomi replied.

What she didn’t say was they stare differently when it’s you.

Every time they were seen together, something shifted.

The corner shop owner stopped offering Naomi credit.

Her aunt asked, casual but pointed, where she’d been spending her evenings.

Her ex sent a message that just said, So that’s how it is.

Nothing dramatic happened.

That was the point.

The pressure was quiet.

Aaron never pushed her to explain it. Never asked her to define what they were. He didn’t frame the world as hostile — just observable.

One night, standing outside her building, he said, “You don’t have to keep pretending I’m invisible.”

She laughed, sharp. “I’m not pretending.”

He looked at her then — really looked — like he understood the cost before she named it.

“It’s different here,” she said finally. “People don’t just see you. They remember you.”

He nodded. “So what does that mean for us?”

Naomi thought about the way the block leaned in. The way silence moved faster than truth. The way being seen was its own kind of commitment.

“It means,” she said slowly, “that if this continues, it’s not just ours anymore.”

Aaron considered that. Not with fear. With care.

“Okay,” he said. “Then let’s be honest about it.”

She didn’t kiss him.

She stepped closer.

Close enough for the watching world to understand.

What this story demonstrates (for you, not the reader)

• Love happens under observation
• The environment applies pressure without violence
• Stakes are social, reputational, relational
• No stereotypes, no spectacle — just consequence