Gabriel violently jerks awake amidst a cry of alarm, gasping for breath. It takes him a moment to collect himself, muttering, "It was just a dream, only a dream..." Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he chuckles bitterly: "I knew something was off. Dad might be unreliable, but he wouldn't do something like that. Time for a shower to wash away this cold sweat."
Water cascades down from the showerhead onto Gabriel's face, eliciting a contented hum. Steam rises in the bathroom, enveloping him in a misty cocoon. His mind wanders to the wedding invitation, debating whether to attend his mother's wedding. He sighs softly to himself, "I should be happy for Mom. She's finally found stable support. Damn Dad, never reliable..." He gets lost in his thoughts, drifting into memories.
"Why is Mom so busy, Dad? It's been five weekends in a row she's not home to play with me," a young Gabriel whines, ice cream cone in one hand, holding his father's hand with the other.
"Hmm..." His father smiles at him, "She's in the prime of her career. But explaining this to a little kid like you wouldn't make sense."
"I'm not a little kid anymore! In a month, I'll be in school. Mom says being in school means you're not a kid, but a man," the boy contends, then mutters, "Mom says men can't cling to their parents every day..." He looks up anxiously, "Dad, do men really have to be away from their parents?"
"Not... exactly," his father teases, prolonging the suspense. Seeing his son's face fall, he laughs heartily, "Don't worry, I'll always be with you," striking a heroic pose, "I'll guard your life!"
The boy beams, focusing back on his ice cream. After a while, he asks, "Dad, are we running out of money?"
His father chuckles, "What makes you think that? Your dad's a great musician. My songwriting alone provides for you and Mom."
"But Mom says you're a third-rate composer, just living off the old house and money we inherited. That's why she has to work hard," the boy bluntly exposes his father's facade.
"I..." His father falls silent, eventually managing a wry smile, "Your mom is just too determined. Alright, let's go, it's starting to rain. Run!" Father and son dash off, blending into the gradually falling rain.
Gabriel steps out from the shower, shutting off the water. He moves through the steam, grabbing a towel and draping it over his head as he approaches the foggy mirror. Wiping a clear patch, his handsome face and naturally wavy dark brown hair, carelessly covering his icy blue eyes, are revealed.
"Got to admit, I do look good," he starts to boast, then pauses, noticing something strange in the mirror. Faint and blurry, but clearly showing a countdown: 17:32:16. He blinks hard, and the countdown persists: 17:32:14, 13, 12... a real countdown.
"This mirror has some high-tech feature? How come I never noticed?" Gabriel scrubs at the mirror, then realizes something terrifying. The countdown seems fixed in his field of vision, moving as he moves his head. A chill runs down his spine, "What in the world is this?"
On the other side of the dorm, Samuel rubs his eyes, yawning and stretching, his gaze landing on Gabriel, who's staring blankly at his laptop screen. "Morning, Gabriel," Samuel greets, reaching for his clothes.
Gabriel turns, asking his roommate, "Ever heard of someone seeing a countdown like it's etched on their retina?"
Samuel blinks, "Isn't that from a sci-fi movie plot a few years back? Haven't you seen it? Search online; there's plenty."
Gabriel looks back at his laptop, a wry smile on his face. "Yeah, lots online." He stands and grabs his jacket, "I need to step out for a bit."
"Aren't you going to class?" his roommate inquires.
"Can you cover for me?" Gabriel's already out the door.
A taxi drives through the old suburban neighborhood, stopping in front of a well-maintained four-story house. Gabriel steps out, gazing at the building that harbors his childhood memories. Despite its age, it's well-kept, with a freshly painted, neat exterior. He reaches for the door, which opens with a click from the inside.
A middle-aged woman pushing a cleaning cart steps out, her face lighting up at the sight of Gabriel: "Oh, Gabriel! Haven't seen you in so long. You've grown into such a handsome young man. What brings you back today?"
"Hello, Aunt Maria. Are you here to clean?" Gabriel inquires.
"Yes, your mother has us clean every two weeks. Ever since you went to college and your mom moved out with Sophie, no one's lived here for years. Honestly, you should rent out these rooms. I know you don't need the rent, but houses need life. They get lonely being empty," she says.
Gabriel pauses, then smiles, "Thanks, Aunt Maria. You've been a great help. I'll talk to Mom about it. You're right; houses need life."
"Alright, I'm off to the next house. Don't mind my chatter." Maria waves goodbye and leaves with her cart. Gabriel hesitates before stepping inside.
Familiar with every corner of the house, Gabriel heads to the first room on the left of the second floor. He slowly turns the doorknob and opens the door. Inside is a room with an en-suite bathroom, single bed, desk, and wardrobe, just as he remembers. The guitar on the wall beside the bed remains untouched. A large glass cabinet in the corner, filled with various game and anime figures, remains unchanged. Gabriel picks up a basketball from the corner and sits silently on the bed. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening, followed by the click-clack of high heels. Gabriel tightens his grip on the ball, sets it down, and walks out of the room.
Gabriel stands at the top of the stairs, momentarily haunted by a decade-old memory of his parents' quarrel and his mother's angry departure. Shaking off the memory, he descends, "Mom, what are you doing here?"
Downstairs, Elina, his mother, exclaims joyfully, "Gabriel!" She hurries to the stairway, and they stop on opposite sides of the railing. Elina looks up at her son, "Busy with school? You haven't visited in a while. Have you lost weight? Sophie's been asking when you'll come."
Thinking of Sophie, Gabriel smiles, "She could come to see me. Her high school isn't far from our university."
"She's prepping for college entrance exams next year, busier than me. I need to make sure she studies hard, not always out playing, and I don't want her bothering you," she says.
"Is she at school today?" Gabriel inquires.
"It's Friday, where else would she be? Aren't you in class today?" Elina asks.
"No class today," Gabriel replies, descending the last few steps, "I'll go see her in a bit... while I still have some time."
They fall silent. After a moment, Elina asks softly, "Will you come tomorrow?"
"Probably, if I can make it," Gabriel replies, eyeing the still-ticking countdown: 13 hours 27 minutes 15 seconds.
He gazes deeply at his mother, "Wish you happiness, Mom."
Elina watches her son, "You seem off today."
"No worries," Gabriel says with a radiant smile, "Just got some things to handle, not much time left. I should go." He heads for the door. As Gabriel reaches for the doorknob, he turns back, "I think we should rent out the rooms upstairs. Empty rooms aren't good for the house. Alright, I'm off."
At the street corner, Gabriel looks towards the distant four-story house and pulls out his phone to make a call. After several rings, a cheery voice answers from the other end, "Hey, son, what's up? Calling your old man out of the blue? Miss me?"
"Where are you? In the city?" Gabriel asks.
"Yeah, I'm at New Century Game City in West Town. Miss your dad? Come on over, let's play a few rounds, haha."
"Why are you there again? Wait for me, I'm coming to find you. Don't wander off."
"A little gamble is just for fun, hurry up, your old man's waiting for you." The voice ends the call with a laugh.
Gabriel shakes his head with a wry smile and raises his hand to hail a taxi.