"Gentlemen, if you could please keep down the racket- Oh my god, what's wrong with Damien?"
Faye, a waitress at the café, approached their table with a determined look, hoping to quiet the escalating voices of the boys. The increasing volume was beginning to disrupt her ability to focus on her job. Strangely enough, it wasn't the boys themselves who were bothering her; rather, it was the curious customers in the vicinity. They were making expressive faces at her and asking if she had any insight into the nature of the intense conversation taking place at the table.
Faye couldn't resist rolling her eyes at the curious onlookers. She understood that these people meant well and were genuinely concerned about Ezra, but to her, a simple concept like a stand should convey a clear message: keep out. No peeking, and definitely no snooping allowed. Frustration flickered across her face as she subtly gestured to the nosy customers, urging them to respect the boundaries and give the boys their privacy.
Faye approached the table with the intention of quieting the boys and thwarting the prying eyes of the curious onlookers. However, as she reached the table, she was taken aback by an unexpected sight. Damien, known for his bubbly and easy-going nature, was sobbing uncontrollably in Ezra's arms. The typically carefree guy was now engulfed in distress, his cheeks flushed crimson, and a burning warmth evident in his ears, revealing the depth of his inner turmoil. Faye, momentarily stunned, shifted her focus from hushing the group to the unexpected emotional scene unfolding before her.
Caught off guard by Damien's emotional outburst, Ezra, still holding onto him and attempting to provide comfort, managed to offer Faye an awkward smile. He silently mouthed a reassurance, "We'll leave now," indicating their intention to depart and diffuse the emotional situation away from the prying eyes of the cafe patrons. Faye nodded understandingly, realizing the need for privacy in that moment, and discreetly ushered them out, shielding them from the inquisitive gazes of the curious onlookers.
The atmosphere outside the cafe was tense as Ezra and Damien, still visibly distressed, walked out under the concerned gazes of other customers. Louis attempted to reason with Ezra, expressing concern and trying to justify his actions, "Ezra, please listen to me for a second?"
Ezra, however, was in no mood to entertain Louis's justifications. He scoffed at Louis's attempt to explain, his frustration evident. "No thank you. If you can't already see, your profound words have truly shattered my friend into a sobbing spectacle. Alas, our schedules and intellect can't possibly accommodate the sheer brilliance of your utterances at this moment," he retorted sharply.
As Ezra fished out a stack of banknotes and handed them to Louis, who had paid for Ezra and Damien's bills incessantly before they had left the café, without waiting for the change, the discomfort on Louis's face grew. Still, Louis insisted, "He had to know, Ashton."
Ezra, using this guy's full name in a tone that conveyed both irritation and disappointment, cut him off. "Please, whatever your excuses are, keep them to yourself for now. I can't deal with you currently."
Outside, the onlookers couldn't help but watch the unfolding drama. But the people in question did not care at all. Once in the open air, Louis attempted to reason with Ezra again, expressing genuine concern. "Look, Ashton, I know you did not want to tell him about this, and I too don't have the right to do so... But I am just worried about you. Well... isn't it better that you have someone to confide in about problems like these? Having someone to share these with can be a little liberating."
Ezra, feeling overwhelmed, almost laughed in frustration. "I... I don't even know what to say to you. Gosh, just get lost for today. I can't deal with you right now." With that, he turned away, signaling the need for space and time to process the challenging situation. He was stopped by Damien.
Ezra, his heart still grappling with the earlier's emotional outburst of Damien, found himself at a loss for words as Damien, his eyes and nose resembling Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, questioned him with a nasally tone.
"Were you thinking of keeping this from me?"
Ezra hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Ah, well..." he began, struggling to find the right words. The truth seemed inevitable, but the circumstances surrounding it were delicate, and he wasn't sure how to navigate them. He looked into Damien's eyes, searching for a way to convey his thoughts without causing further distress.
Damien let out another deep sigh, acknowledging the complexity of the situation. He turned to Louis, his eyes showing a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Thank you for telling me this. But hey, how long had you known about this? Just asking."
Louis replied, "I found out about this just now, after the earlier jump to that realm."
"I see. Did you meet Ezra there before today?"
"No. Today was our first meeting there."
"Then why did you come to find him here when you did not even know if you two would meet there?"
Ezra, observing this exchange, interjected with a hint of sarcasm, "One moment you're flooding the place with tears, and the next, you're firing off logic like it's a comedy show. How's your emotional rollercoaster managing such a quick costume change?"
Damien snorted at him, retorting, "Well, juggling tears and logic is my new special talent, like a one-man circus. Unlike some, I guess I don't keep my emotional acrobatics behind a mysterious curtain. By the way, how's that secret worry party going without me?"
He then turned to Louis, prompting an explanation. Louis looked between them, scratching lightly at his nose before offering an awkward response, "In that world, we are forced to play out some story. And like most stories, different characters play out different roles in each chapter. My role never overlapped with Ashton's, but I heard his name being mentioned in the story by another character. At that time, I had also heard of Max's name. Whether it was the first names or the last, they overlapped exactly with the people I knew... And since I had found myself in that realm with my name, I thought that it was very much possible that the characters that were being mentioned were people I knew. I wanted to make sure, so I came to find him and ask about it."
Louis then shot an awkward look at Damien, adding, "Bet you did not get most of that."
Damien, firm in his decision, asserted, "You're right. I didn't. But you two will be doing quite a bit of explaining to me today. My apartment is a few blocks away. Both of you will be coming along with me. Ez?"
As Damien called out to Ezra, both of them turned to see a Rolls-Royce Phantom stopping a little distance from the café. Maximilian climbed down from the car and, upon spotting them, made his way toward them with quick strides that almost resembled a run.
Ezra, catching sight of Max approaching, swiftly and subconsciously covered his injured cheek. Max, looking at him with hints of worry, appeared genuinely concerned. Ignoring the concerned glances, Ezra noticed the conspicuous mismatched shoes on Max's feet—white and red, from two very expensive brands, creating a goofy and striking contrast.
Max followed Ezra's gaze, realizing the error he had made, but chose to ignore it. He focused on Ezra, carefully studying him, as if taking in every detail. Finally, his gaze settled on Ezra's face, particularly the cheek he was trying to conceal with his jacket sleeve. Max spoke with genuine concern, unbeknownst even to himself, "Can I have a look at your face?"
"Um, no?" Ezra replied, before shaking his head at Damien in exasperation. "I like Maria's café. I do. But maybe you're right. We need to limit our visits here... I do not find the fact that everyone's first thought of finding me was here very pleasant."
Max snorted, "Come now, Ashton, you cannot possibly be so petty as to ignore us when we are currently facing an issue that needs combined brainpower. That's not a very mature action."
Ezra rolled his eyes at Max, "I was never really mature to begin with."
"You're right. And I wasn't either. Therefore, sitting on the pavement and begging at your feet to show me your face doesn't bother me at all."
"Oh, you think I'm afraid of causing a commotion? Well, try again. I am just as shameless as you."
"You wanna try me?"
"Oh, go right ahead. Sob and wail while you're at it."
Max eyed Ezra with a complicated look, his thoughts unknown, before Ezra saw him chuckle. "Though, I will take a guess. You hid your face as soon as you saw me? I suppose I'm touched that you care enough to do so."
"Your trick ain't gonna work on me, try harder."
"It's injured, isn't it?" Ezra almost thought he heard Max's voice crack. Before he could reply, he was interrupted by Louis, who directed his questions to Max, "Now, how did you know if he carried back his injury or not? What do you know about all this?"
Max responded with a silent stare at Louis, his blue eyes holding many concealed thoughts. After a few seconds, he finally opened his mouth to speak, his expression appearing somewhat distressed. "So he did carry it back, huh..."
As if attempting to shift the focus from his increasingly apparent show of concern that he somehow could not have any control over at the moment, Max returned to his usual cold expression. He casually showed his knuckles to the others, revealing a few scratch marks on his skin—a subtle hint at a recent altercation or confrontation. The tension in the air lingered, and the unspoken complexities of their situation seemed to weigh heavily on the group.
Damien, who had been silently observing the situation until now, erupted in anger upon noticing the marks on Max's knuckles. "You! So it was you! You punched Ezra, did you not?"
"I did not intend to. My actions were being controlled."
Damien's confusion deepened as the words of the trio became increasingly challenging for him to process. Finally, he couldn't contain himself any longer. "We're going to my apartment right this instant. Forget old animosities! Especially you, Ezra. This is turning into a complex matter. Please try to understand. Hey Ez? Are you listening?"
In the current moment, Ezra found himself slipping into a contemplative state, as if the ongoing discussion had sparked a realization within him. Then, as the clarity of that revelation dawned upon him, he couldn't help but express it with a subtle, "Ah..."
"Well, Mr. Sherlock, I bet you've made another discovery, am I right? You can fill me in after you all explain the situation to me."
Max observed Ezra quietly from the corner of his eyes before forcefully shifting his gaze away. "You're right. We don't know when we may go back to that world. We should at least share what we know about it."
And so, they all found themselves at Damien's apartment. It was a spacious residence, a testament to his affluent family background. Damien's parents were prosperous—his mother a criminal law judge and his father a successful cardio-surgeon. An elder sister added to the family's accomplishments with her investment company, originally focused on movies and the entertainment industry during its nascent stages. Her savvy business skills had proven immensely beneficial, and now her company was subtly shifting its focus to the real estate industry.
You might assume that individuals as successful and busy as Damien's family would lack time for familial warmth and be somewhat distant. However, while the first assumption was somewhat accurate, the latter could not be farther from the truth. In fact, Damien's entire family proved to be some of the most loving people Ezra had ever encountered. They treated each other with unilateral respect and extreme compassion, extending these virtues to those they were fond of and considered part of their family's acquaintances.
Ezra felt honored to be treated with such kindness. This family was a significant reason he aspired to foster warm relationships. Unfortunately, the endeavor he cherished and worked hard for did not end pleasantly, and he couldn't pinpoint where it had gone wrong.
As Ezra looked at Maximilian, or as he once used to call him, Max—his failed past endeavor—he felt increasingly conflicted. Despite everything, Max still looked good, healthy, and nice, further complicating Ezra's feelings and impacting his mental well-being.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"We're already here, and you're still hiding your face? Are you a grade schooler?"
Ezra huffed at Max's comment and awkwardly pulled down his hand to reveal the injury. When Max saw it, he winced, attempting to reach out his arm towards it before stopping midair and pulling it back to his side. Uncomfortable with the atmosphere between them, Ezra turned away and, in a subtle but cold voice, called out to Damien, "Where have you two disappeared to? Don't you have a first aid kit, Damy? It's been fifteen minutes since you started searching for it!"
"I've rarely resorted to using it, Ez. My bad habit kicks in—I tend to let injuries be and simply clean them with water, which usually does the trick. Although, there are times when my negligence results in infections, and that's when both of us end up accompanying myself to the doctor... Ah, there it is," Damien's voice called out from the kitchen.
"Finally," Louis sighed in relief from nearby.
Damien confidently approached Ezra and opened the box, the dust inside almost spreading across. Clicking his tongue, he retrieved it, stepped outside to blow away the dust, and brought it back.
The others expressed exasperation. "Is it even usable? Nothing expired."
"Of course it is. My sister prepared it for me just two to three months ago when I went to her place for vacation. It should be fine. I stored it under the stairs to the bedroom, in the little storage room."
Ezra scolded, "The one I always tell you to ask Miss Martha to clean up when she comes over?"
"I always forget, okay? The door to that place is always covered with my hanging underwear. I feel ashamed to tell old lady Martha to go there. And I always forget to remove the underwear before she comes over, so it is forever in disarray."
"Goodness, Damy."
Max observed the close relationship between Ezra and Damien with a subtle gaze before turning his eyes away, not bothering with their banter. However, he swiftly moved when he heard Ezra scold Damien for not being able to bandage properly.
Ezra reluctantly allowed Maximilian to tend to his wounds, and a subtle tension hung in the air, laced with unspoken emotions that had lingered between them. The discomfort Ezra felt went beyond the physical injury, hinting at a deeper, unresolved connection.
As Maximilian delicately addressed Ezra's wounds, the atmosphere crackled with suppressed feelings. Each touch seemed to carry the weight of their complex history, marked by a mixture of shared moments and unspoken words. The room held a quiet intensity, an undertone of unexplored emotions that both acknowledged but chose not to address.
Ezra's hesitance revealed more than just physical discomfort; it mirrored the intricate dance of emotions they found themselves in. The past, with its echoes of unresolved issues, silently played out in the room, leaving a palpable tension that neither of them was ready to confront openly.
In the end, the wounds were tended to, but the emotional undercurrents remained, hovering like a ghost of the unspoken between them.
A considerable amount of time had passed since their last encounter, a moment that could be pinpointed as the exact instance of their breakup. Given this interval, it was only natural for the two to experience a myriad of emotions in the current situation – a blend of complexity and a tinge of melancholy. Yet, despite the complicated feelings that lingered in the air, both parties reassured themselves that things were fine now. Ezra, in particular, had moved on and found a sense of peace. Yes, that was right. It should be.
As his wound received attention, Ezra maintained a stoic silence, making a concerted effort to refrain from any further outbursts. The memory of his earlier childish behavior weighed on him, and he was determined not to add to the embarrassment. This pattern reflected a recurring theme in Ezra's response to challenging situations – when faced with anger or worry, he instinctively either slipped into a state of childish frustration or opted for complete avoidance, a deliberate effort to shield himself from unnecessary distress.
Quite like the 'Ezra' that he was forced to portray in that other world. What a coincidence huh...