--- **[Verse 1]** The waiter says *“we don’t have Coke, is Pepsi okay?”* And no one ever says no. They just nod. Like they’ve been trained to take what’s close enough. I wonder if Pepsi feels that. If it aches in the stockroom, next to six rows of things people only choose when what they want ran out. --- **[Verse 2]** I’ve been living like a substitute. Good enough in dim light. Fine in theory. Background-colored. They text me back eventually. They say *“sorry I forgot”* and I pretend I didn’t wait with my phone face-up like a prayer mat. I’m not mad. I’m just shelf-warm. I’m just "that’ll do.” I’m just Pepsi. And no one ever asks if I’m alright. --- **[Chorus]** You didn’t choose me, you settled politely. You didn’t kiss me, you leaned out slightly. I'm the spare shirt you keep in the car. The almost-spark that never got far. I’m still fizzing— just in the dark. --- **[Verse 3]** The vending machine never gets refilled till something else runs out. And I get it. I really do. Not everyone’s the main act. Some of us are the static between songs. The second pick. The backup ride. The drink you shrug at when you’re too tired to argue. --- **[Outro]** Next time, just ask. Just say it. Say *“do you even want this?”* Say *“is this what you meant?”* Say *“Pepsi okay?”* And let me say ***no.***