TW: Emotional and physical abuse, strong words
A wise man once said, "Penny wise, pound foolish," and yet, there he sat, bathed in the cold glow of his phone, a prisoner of his own making. He hadn't lost money, not a single dime, but with each swipe and scroll, he felt something intangible slipping away. It wasn't a gamble he'd taken, but a slow erosion of his spirit, a gradual fading of the vibrant colours of his life into the monochrome world of the screen. The silence of his room felt heavy, punctuated only by the hollow pings of notifications, each one a reminder of his growing isolation. He was losing himself, one pixel at a time.
Wondering why? Well, it all started about two weeks ago, after Enzo and Mila had been together for five months. It was pure bliss, a happiness he hadn't felt in ages. They were a perfect match, their connection effortless and joyful. But then, slowly, the spark began to fade. He couldn't pinpoint when or why, but it became obvious after he had joined the band club led by the green-haired senior
It was a tight-knit group of musicians, and Enzo, the youngest composer, quickly found his place. His talent was undeniable, his melodies resonating with the other members. He was good, really good, and he fit right in. But something else was brewing beneath the surface.
"You've been acting weird lately," Mila said, her voice tinged with annoyance.
"How so?" Enzo replied, kissing her cheek lightly as he placed a stack of papers on the club room's meeting table.
"Stop doing that! People are around" Mila shouted, her voice echoing through the room and drawing the attention of the other members.
"Okay, okay, I won't do it again," Enzo said with a conciliatory smile, fully aware of her displeasure.
Mila scanned the room, her eyes searching for something unseen. The girl who was once so vibrant and full of life still shone, but a shadow had fallen over her. Lately, Enzo felt like a stranger in her world, locked out of her thoughts and feelings. She seemed closed off, distant, as if trying to avoid him altogether.
The club room door opened, and a tall, athletic figure appeared in the doorway. Blonde hair caught the light as he stepped inside, his presence immediately drawing attention. He stood a bit taller than Enzo, who was now standing near the meeting desk. The newcomer's most striking feature became apparent as he approached – his eyes.
The right one was a warm brown, while the left was a vibrant green. This heterochromia gave him a unique, almost mesmerising look. Mila, who had been searching around the room, suddenly stopped and stared at the new arrival. Her eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and something else Enzo couldn't quite place flickering across her face.
"Ah, babe, why are you so cute today?" Mila clung to him, pressing a kiss to his lips.
Enzo was stunned. Hadn't she just scolded him for showing affection in front of others? His confusion deepened.
"Didn't you just tell me that people are around?" he asked, gently pulling her back.
"When did I say that, babe? You're so funny," Mila replied with a smile. But it wasn't the genuine smile Enzo knew so well. It was a forced smile, a performance for the audience.
The other club members began to glance their way, their whispers like buzzing flies. Enzo felt increasingly disoriented, the room spinning around him. What was going on?
"Tonight, do you want to come over?" Mila whispered, her voice carrying just loud enough for those around them, including the blonde dude, to hear. "We haven't done that in a while."
"What are you talking about? Keep it down," Enzo hissed, gently placing his hand over her mouth.
"You know I can't come tonight, I have to finish this song before the weekend," Enzo sighed. While the thought of spending the night at her place was tempting, the situation was too awkward to ignore.
"Too bad. Guess I'll have to sleep alone again," Mila pouted, her gaze shifting from Enzo to the man standing nearby.
Enzo's heart sank. Why did Mila have to make her intentions so obvious, flirting with another man right in front of him?
"You know what, maybe this song can wait. Maybe we should get going now," Enzo said, trying to suppress his anger as he grabbed her wrist.
As he stood up, the blonde man remained perched on the meeting table, his mismatched eyes fixed on Enzo with an infuriatingly smug expression. It was enough to make Enzo's blood boil.
He walked out of the room, pulling Mila along. But she dug in her heels, resisting his grip.
"Why are you acting like this?" Mila yanked her hand free.
"No, you're the one acting weird!" Enzo retorted, burying his face in his hands in frustration.
"What are you talking about? You're the one being weird," Mila frowned.
Enzo frowned back, utterly perplexed. What did she mean, he was acting weird? It was glaringly obvious that she was the one flirting with another man, right in front of him. What did she mean by him being strange?
"Forget it, I'm going home," Enzo sighed, his gaze locked on Mila's face.
"Home?" she scoffed, a cruel laugh escaping her lips. "You call that rat hole a home?"
Enzo's heart sank as he looked at her, a stranger standing in the place of the woman he loved. Her words pierced him like daggers, each one twisting deeper into his soul. This was the woman who had always told him his personal life didn't matter to her, that she didn't care about material things. Yet, here she was, mocking his living situation with amusement dancing in her eyes.
Enzo forced a smile, the kind he hadn't worn in five long months. It was a grimace of pain, a mask to hide the pain in his chest. He'd never thought he'd feel this kind of heartbreak again.
He turned and went back to his apartment, the one she had so heartlessly abandoned. The framed photograph of them on his bedside table mocked him, her smile a stark contrast to the cruel grin she'd just given him. The memory of their laughter, once a melody to his ears, now felt like a bitter taste on his tongue.
Back in the present, Enzo sat in his small apartment, which Mila had mockingly called a "rat hole". He was working on his new song, the melody flowing from him like an emotional release. His phone buzzed with a notification appearing on the screen. For a moment he hoped it was Mila. It had been two weeks since their last conversation, when she had asked for space, saying she needed time to think. Think about what, exactly? He had no idea
He picked up the phone, but it wasn't Mila. It was the green-haired senior from the band club. There was no message, just a picture.
The image was slightly blurred, the dim club lighting obscuring some details, but Enzo could still make out the essential elements. Through the haze of bodies and pulsating lights, Mila's eyes stood out, sparkling with an intensity he hadn't seen in weeks.
Those eyes, once fixed on him with warmth and affection, now shone with a different kind of joy. Enzo found himself looking intently, trying to find the source of that sparkle. The more he looked, the more he wondered: Was it the excitement of a night out with friends that lit up her eyes? Or was it the taste of the man's lip she was kissing?
The sight hit Enzo like a punch to the gut. He stared at the screen, a mix of confusion, hurt, and anger swirling inside him. The joy he'd felt with Mila for the whole time now seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a sharp, bitter pain.
Another buzz vibrated through the phone.
"Sorry, man, I was just at the club with some of the guys from the band and saw her."
"Don't blame yourself, it's not your fault."
Enzo read the messages, staring at the picture. He knew the senior cared, was grateful for the heads-up, but a surge of anger bubbled up inside him. Why did he have to know this? Wouldn't it be better to remain ignorant, to turn a blind eye and pretend everything was okay with Mila?
"Not this again," Enzo choked out, his vision blurring with tears. The sobs ripped through him, a wave of grief crashing over him with unexpected force.
Was it really his fault? Had he been too consumed by the band lately? Had he become boring, neglectful? Was it because his apartment wasn't grand enough, or was there something inherently wrong with him? The questions swirled in his mind, a hurricane of self-doubt and despair.
He sat there, lost in the torment of his thoughts, until the morning light filtered through the curtains. His face was puffy, eyes swollen, and his mouth felt as dry as the desert. He stared at his phone, hoping the senior would send another message saying he had mistaken Mila for someone else. But there was nothing.
He opened his contacts, scrolling until he found Mila's name. The last message he'd sent her was a simple "I love you," left unread. He stared at it for a long moment, then dialled her number. The phone rang and rang, but she didn't pick up. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, towards her place.
He knocked on the door, trying to keep his composure. After a moment, the door opened to reveal a man Enzo had never seen before. The stranger looked young and had a friendly smile. For a brief, hopeful moment, Enzo wondered if this might be Mila's brother. But he quickly dismissed the idea - Mila was an only child and lived alone. So who was this man?
"Hello? Who are you?" the stranger asked, his tone curious but not unfriendly.
Enzo felt a lump form in his throat. Despite the turmoil inside him, he managed to keep his voice steady as he replied, "I'm Enzo, Mila's boyfriend."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Enzo studied the man's face, looking for any sign of recognition or surprise. His heart raced as he waited for an answer, fearing what it might reveal about his relationship with Mila and the true nature of the photo he'd seen.
The silence stretched on, tense and uncomfortable, as Enzo struggled with the growing realisation that his world might be about to shatter.
"Cool, want to come in?" the man said, stepping aside to let Enzo enter.
The apartment was neat and tidy, but an unfamiliar chill hung in the air. Enzo's body tensed as he followed the stranger into the living room. The photos of him and Mila, the books they had shared, the records they had danced to—all gone. Replaced by pictures of Mila and this man, their smiles radiating a happiness that twisted a knife in Enzo's gut.
He sank onto the sofa, his eyes fixed on the floor. The silence was suffocating, his heart pounding in his ears.
"I'm sure you have a lot of questions, Enzo," the man finally said, his voice calm and measured. "I can imagine how hard this must be for you."
"You can?" Enzo snapped, hurt and anger lacing his words.
"Yeah, I mean, you were dating Mila and now you find out she's moved on." The man sat down beside him.
"Moved on? We didn't even break up! She told me she needed space, and I gave it to her," Enzo retorted, his eyes blazing.
"I can tell you're really hurting. I'm sorry, Enzo, I truly am. I know this isn't easy, but you can't hold it against her. You both have your own lives to live."
"My own life? I had no idea you even existed!" Enzo exclaimed.
"Well, now you do."
"How long have you two been together?" Enzo asked, his voice trembling.
"About two weeks," the man replied.
Rage surged through Enzo, threatening to consume him. How could Mila have kept this from him? How could she have lied to him for so long?
Enzo's anger intensified. "And did she tell you about me?"
"She did," the man said, his eyes filled with a complex emotion Enzo couldn't decipher.
"She said that you and her were already over, that you were abusive and a creep who couldn't leave her alone," the man sighed. "You know, I could hurt you right now, but I don't want to go that far."
"This is ridiculous, it really is..." Enzo choked out, tears in his eyes.
"You think Mila and I are over? You really think that?" Enzo struggled to keep his voice steady, but the tears began to fall.
"Yes, Enzo," the man said simply.
"Then read this for yourself," Enzo pushed his phone into the man's hands. The screen showed a long thread of messages between Enzo and Mila, clearly showing that they hadn't broken up.
The man's expression changed as he scrolled through the messages, shock and disbelief replacing his earlier confidence. He handed the phone back to Enzo, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. His eyes now held a mixture of concern and sympathy.
"Do you believe me now?" Enzo asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't know what to believe anymore," the man replied, his gaze falling to the floor.
Enzo could feel the man's inner turmoil, the uncertainty and confusion that came with being caught up in a messy situation.
"So, what are you going to do now?" Enzo pressed.
"I'll... I'll talk to her," the man said, a hint of resignation in his voice.
"Talk to her?" Enzo repeated, incredulous. "No, let me talk to her."
"You think that's going to work?" the man asked with a sigh.
"You'll see," Enzo insisted.
The man looked at him, then stood up and gestured for Enzo to follow him to Mila's bedroom, where she was in the bathroom washing up. They sat on the bed Enzo used to sleep on, the place where he and Mila had once cuddled and whispered about their future. Now, it belonged to someone else.
They waited in silence until the bathroom door opened, revealing Mila in an oversized t-shirt that clearly belonged to the stranger. She walked out, oblivious to their presence, then her eyes widened in shock as she saw them.
As expected, her face was a mask of surprise. Enzo looked at her with tear-filled eyes, his heart aching with a love that refused to die. It was absurd, how deeply and irrationally he still loved her, even after everything that had happened.
"So it's true," the man said, his voice filled with disbelief.
"How could you do this?" Mila spat, her eyes blazing with anger as she glared at Enzo.
"No, Mila, how could you do this to both of us?" Nick countered, his gaze shifting to the heartbroken Enzo.
"No, listen to me, Nick," Mila pleaded, walking towards him with guilt-ridden eyes.
Enzo watched, a bitter laugh bubbling up in his throat. Shouldn't she be coming to him, not the other man? The absurdity of the situation threatened to overwhelm him.
"You have some explaining to do, Mila," Nick said, pulling away from her touch.
"I already told you everything, what more do you want to know?" Mila retorted, trying to cling to Nick again.
The word "ridiculous" echoed in Enzo's mind, growing louder with each of Mila's desperate pleas. He wondered if he had gone too far, if coming to her place had embarrassed her in front of Nick. He shook his head, trying to clear the doubts clouding his thoughts.
"No, Mila, talk to him. Don't try to hide behind me," Nick insisted.
"I don't want to talk to him! I told you, he's a creep! He's nothing!" Mila screamed, her eyes burning with fury as she turned on Enzo.
Enzo's heart shattered into a million pieces. He had given Mila everything – love, attention, even working himself to the bone to buy her gifts for every occasion. He never asked for anything in return, except her love. But now, she claimed he was nothing. The words pierced through him like shards of ice.
"You should have told me sooner, Mila. At least broken up with me before seeing someone else," Enzo said, his voice raspy from the tears he was desperately trying to hold back.
"If it were that easy, don't you think I would have told you?!" Mila screamed back.
"These past five months, you've meant everything to me, Mila. And now..." Enzo took a deep breath, "I find out I was nothing to you all along?"
"So what? Did you come all the way here just to cry like a fool?" Mila retorted with a harsh laugh.
"You know what, Mila? I don't want to be with you anymore," Nick interjected, pulling off his ring and tossing it to the floor. "You're pathetic."
"What? No, please, Nick, don't go!" Mila cried, rushing towards him as he turned to leave. But Nick shut the door in her face.
Mila collapsed to the floor, her body wracked with sobs. Her mumbled words were barely audible between hiccups and gasps for air. She shivered, curling into herself as if trying to disappear.
Enzo stood frozen, his heart breaking at the sight. Her tiny, broken voice pierced through him like shards of glass. Despite everything, he loved her - that was the one certainty in this chaos.
He knew he should leave, that he was probably the last person she wanted to see right now. Yet his feet carried him forward, his own pain momentarily forgotten in the face of hers.
Kneeling beside her, Enzo reached out a hesitant hand. He didn't touch her, just hovered nearby, offering silent support. "Mila," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"Get away from me!" Mila shrieked, swatting him away.
"You ruined everything! EVERYTHING!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face.
"You've ruined the love I've always wanted, the love I've wanted for those I love!!!!," she sobbed.
"I never loved you, not even once! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE!" she yelled, striking him across the face with her ring-adorned hand.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony of her words. Blood trickled from the wound, but Enzo felt numb, his body, his heart, his entire being consumed by a cold emptiness.
The door creaked open again, revealing Nick once more. He stood there, his expression unreadable. Enzo had no idea why he had returned. Nick's eyes, mismatched and intense, focused on Enzo with a flicker of concern.
"Are you coming back to me, Nick?" Mila pleaded, clinging to his leg. "I love you, please don't leave me."
"No, I'm not coming back to you," Nick said firmly, pulling Mila away from him and grabbing Enzo's arm. He pulled Enzo to his feet and led him out of the room, leaving Mila sprawled on the floor behind them.
Outside, Enzo sobbed silently beside Nick, who attempted to offer comfort, but nothing could stem the flow of tears.
"You should have left with me," Nick said, squeezing Enzo's arm gently. "Why did you stay in there?"
"You know, I'm really sorry," Nick confessed with a heavy sigh. "I had no idea she was cheating on you. We'd been talking for months, but she only asked me out these past two weeks."
"It's okay," Enzo whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It was my fault."
"No, it wasn't yours. It was Mila's," Nick countered firmly.
He looked at Enzo with concern. "You should go rest. You'll make yourself sick if you keep this up."
"Where do you live? I'll drive you home," Nick offered
Enzo followed behind Nick, each step a hollow echo in the cave of his despair. The leather seats of the car were cold against his skin, the hum of the engine a monotonous drone that matched the emptiness in his chest. The sunlight flickered past, casting shadows that danced and twisted in the corners of his vision, mirroring the chaos in his mind.
Every mile felt like an eternity, the silence between him and Nick a thick fog of shared unease. Enzo stared out the window, the world a blur of colour and movement that held no meaning. The car finally pulled up to his apartment, the familiar sight now a twisted mockery of the feeling it had once been. Enzo stepped out, his feet hitting the pavement with a thud. A bitter wind whipped his face, but he felt nothing. He had been hollowed out, a shell of the man who had fallen head over heels in love with Mila just a few months before.
The laughter, the shared dreams, the whispered promises - it all felt like a cruel joke now, a distant memory from a life that no longer existed.