The warmth of the room hit Enzo like an unexpected punch. It was supposed to comfort him, but instead, it felt like a betrayal. He had thought he was over her, and had convinced himself that the wound had healed. But seeing her face had melted his carefully constructed world into molten lava.
She looked the same - pretty and majestic as ever. The sight of her stirred up emotions he thought he'd buried deep. Why did he have to suffer this much? It was just a breakup, wasn't it? But the pain that surged through him suggested otherwise.
Enzo's mind raced, a thousand thoughts competing for attention. Had he been fooling himself all this time? The progress he thought he'd made seemed to crumble in her presence. It wasn't fair. He'd worked so hard to move on, to rebuild himself. Yet here he was, feeling as raw and vulnerable as the day she'd left.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm, too full of memories he'd rather forget. But he couldn't leave, couldn't run away. He had to face this, face her, even if every instinct screamed at him to flee.
"I want to rest," Enzo mumbled, swallowing his meds and collapsing onto his bed.
His face throbbed. It would heal, he knew. No need for bandages or ointments. He reached for his phone, scrolling aimlessly for a few minutes before the screen blurred. He tossed it aside, forcing himself to close his eyes and sink into the oblivion of sleep.
Thanks to the fever, Enzo had slept deeply, mercifully free of dreams. His body temperature had dropped slightly, but in its place, a vicious headache had taken root, pounding relentlessly with each passing minute.
"I hate myself," Enzo muttered, fumbling for the medicine bottle. He swallowed the pills as quickly as he could, knowing full well they wouldn't provide instant relief. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue, a reminder of his current misery.
"Fuck it." Enzo pushed himself off the bed, his movements sluggish but determined. He wasn't going to let a fever dictate his life. The more he succumbed to its grip, the stronger it became. He shuffled to his desk, the ancient laptop a familiar sight. Opening it, he dove into his latest song, rearranging chords and filling in the gaps where the melody felt incomplete.
But the musical muse wasn't playing nice. Enzo needed a fresh perspective, someone with a sharper ear than his own. Harry, his musical guru and a senior at the university, was always a fountain of creative solutions Enzo would never have thought of himself.
With a raspy voice that sounded like a week-old cookie left out in the sun, Enzo called Harry. "What's up?" Harry's voice crackled through the speaker, barely a second after the dial tone.
"I need some help with this song," Enzo rasped.
"Why's that? You sound like you haven't drank water for a week."
Enzo coughed, the sound dry and hollow. "Whatever, just help me with this song."
"Then come out to the club room. I'm already here."
"What are you doing there?" Enzo coughed again.
"If you can't come, we'll come to your place instead."
"No way in hell," Enzo sighed. "Give me half an hour."
"Sure."
Enzo dragged himself out of bed, throwing on whatever clothes he could find in his closet. He tucked himself into his jacket and trudged out to the bus stop, acutely aware of the stares his bruised face was attracting. It was almost 3 PM, and suddenly the sidewalks were teeming with people. Enzo couldn't shake the feeling he'd run into someone he knew. As if on cue, a familiar voice called out.
"Enzo?"
Great. Now he'd have to plaster on a friendly facade.
"Hi," Enzo said, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Long time no see," the man said, beaming.
"Yeah, right," Enzo muttered, struggling to suppress a cough.
"How are you?" the man asked, his enthusiasm grating on Enzo's nerves. Of course, today of all days, he'd run into a high school acquaintance.
"I'm good, Ian," Enzo lied, the name coming back to him easily. How could he forget? Ian was the human equivalent of a golden retriever - all smiles and boundless energy.
"Oh, so you remember me!" Ian's grin widened, if that was even possible. Who could forget, Enzo thought. This guy's smile was brighter than his future.
"Yes, I do," Enzo said, then added out of obligation, "How about you?"
"You know, I'm good, but lately I've been working my ass off to pay the bills," Ian said, inching closer to Enzo. Some things never changed. Even in high school, Ian had no concept of personal space. Now, his hand found its way to Enzo's arm, as if they were old friends.
Enzo fought the urge to pull away, his patience wearing thin. He was too tired, too sore, and too irritated for this impromptu reunion. But he maintained his facade, all the while wondering how quick he could extricate himself from this unwanted interaction.
Ah yes, It was pretty quick
"It was nice talking to you, Ian," Enzo said, pulling his arm away as the bus approached. "But I really need to go."
"Oh yeah?" Ian's eyes flickered between Enzo and the bus, his face a mix of confusion and hope.
"Can I get your number?" The question hit Enzo like a sucker punch. Hell no, his mind screamed. Why would he hand over his personal details to someone he barely knew?
"Sorry, I'm in a rush," Enzo muttered, his feet already carrying him towards the growing line of passengers.
"Next time we meet, then?" Ian suggested, a pout forming on his face.
"Sure," Enzo lied, flashing a quick smile before boarding the bus.
As the doors hissed shut, Enzo caught a glimpse of Ian's crestfallen face. Ha, no shit, brother, he thought, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. The odds of them meeting again were slimmer than a snowball's chance in hell.
The bus ride was mercifully short, and soon Enzo found himself standing at the university entrance. The walk to the club room felt like a marathon, each step a battle against his protesting body. By the time he arrived, he was panting, his fever momentarily forgotten in the exertion.
"Oh, you're here," Harry greeted him, wrapping an arm around Enzo's neck before quickly pulling back. "Your body's hot like a bun. You good?"
Enzo looked down, avoiding Harry's gaze. "Yeah, a lot better than ever," he lied.
Harry frowned, tilting his head to examine Enzo's bruised face. "Who did this?"
"Some asshole," Enzo muttered.
"Yeah, I have to break that asshole's bones so he'll stop," Ronny's voice interjected from behind.
"R...right," Enzo stammered, turning to see Ronny standing behind him.
"You should be resting, honestly. Why are you out here?" Ronny's hand hovered near Enzo's forehead. "Can I?" he asked softly.
"Yeah," Enzo mumbled, closing his eyes as Ronny's cool hand made contact with his burning skin.
Enzo nodded, feeling like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He wasn't usually this compliant, but Ronny's unwavering care and concern after the morning's incident had softened something inside him. He couldn't bring himself to lie about something as important as his health, Ronny cared, and that mattered.
"Did you put any ointment on it?" Ronny asked, his fingers brushing lightly against Enzo's bruised cheek.
"Right," Ronny said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now let's do what you came here for." He turned and walked towards the meeting table, leaving Enzo to follow in his wake.
Enzo pulled out his laptop and started playing the song he was trying to finish. He found it lacked some spice and felt bland. The three of them put their heads together to rearrange it. Hours flew by, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the melody finally took shape, a tapestry of sound woven with their combined creativity.
"I think we can call it a day," Enzo said, stretching his back with a groan.
"Yeah," Harry yawned. "It's almost spring break."
"Indeed," Enzo replied. "I might just sleep through it."
"Aren't you going back home?" Harry asked.
Enzo's heart dropped, but his expression remained nonchalant. "Nah, too far," he said with a casual smile, shifting his gaze to Ronny. Their eyes locked. Ronny's gaze was intense, almost as if he could see through Enzo's facade.
"So I might just practise all day," Ronny said, a playful smile on his face. "My brother's always nagging me about being lazy."
"Your brother?" Enzo asked.
"Didn't I mention him this morning?" Ronny chuckled.
"Right, I forgot."
"He's four years older than me," Ronny explained, leaning back in his chair. "But when I want to work, he's always nagging me to take a break."
Harry tilted his head, deep in thought. "What's your last name again?"
"Sinclair," Ronny replied.
"Is your brother's name Nolan?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Ronny answered,
"Ah, that's why you looked familiar," Harry said. "I always see a dude who looks like you on the hall of fame in the library."
"Whoa, is your brother a celebrity?" Enzo asked.
"No, I think he's something like a scientist," Harry said, looking at Ronny for confirmation.
"Yeah, he is," Ronny sighed. "He's a good man, but he acts like an old man sometimes."
"At least he still doesn't want you to work," Harry sighed. "I have four older sisters... what do you think?"
"Dang!" Enzo blurted out before catching himself. "Sorry."
Harry giggled. "I know, it's a lot, but they are nice except when they fight each other. Do you have any siblings, Enzo?"
Siblings. Enzo had longed for one as a child when he saw other kids with someone who looked just like them by their side. But looking back now, he was almost relieved to be an only child, especially since his parents weren't exactly contenders for Parents of the Year.
"I'm an only child," Enzo said, "But I do have a cousin, though we're not close..."
Harry smiled. "Well, you can count me as your brother if you want, right, Ronan?"
Ronny's eyes met Enzo's, a flicker of something unreadable passing between them. "I don't want to be his brother, though," Ronny said, then quickly clarified, "I mean, I really don't know what having a little brother is like."
"Understandable," Harry nodded, standing up. "Should we go home?"
"Sounds good, since this person needs to rest," Ronny said as he gathered his things. He turned to Enzo, "I'll walk you home."
Enzo instinctively avoided his gaze, shaking his head. "I'm good."
"Then, how about I walk you to the bus stop?" Ronny suggested with a gentle smile.
Enzo sighed, realising there was no point in arguing. "Alright," he conceded.
As they walked out of the building, they made small talk about the weather and other trivial things. Just as they were about to part ways, Harry playfully nudged them both.
Harry gave them both a warm smile. "Great! I'll see you guys later then. Take care, Enzo, you too Ronan." He waved goodbye and headed off in the opposite direction, leaving Enzo and Ronny to walk towards the bus stop together.
"So it's really healed in no time, huh? Your face?" Ronny said as soon as Harry was out of earshot.
"Yeah, it's not hurting anymore," Enzo lied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
Ronny watched Enzo's forced smile, his own lips twitching slightly. This guy was good at reading people, wasn't he?
"Fine," Enzo sighed, finally admitting defeat. "It still hurts, but it's not that bad anymore."
Ronny didn't say anything, just offered a gentle smile before turning his gaze forward. The more Enzo talked to him, the more distant Ronny seemed. It was like he was someone who preferred not to complicate things, yet he wasn't quite what he seemed on the surface. Maybe he was as skilled as Enzo at hiding his true feelings? But then again, that wasn't Enzo's concern. Everyone had their own reasons for putting on a facade.
"Anyway," Enzo began, as they approached the bus stop at the university's entrance, "Why are you really being so nice to me?"
Ronny stopped and smiled at Enzo. The way the light danced on his face made Enzo wonder if the smile was genuine or just another facade like the one he himself often wore.
"Enzo," Ronny said in his warm voice, "I think the bus has already arrived."
"Oh, right," Enzo replied with a forced smile. "I guess I should get going then."
As Enzo stepped onto the bus, Ronny called out, "Let me know when you get home safe, okay?"
"And please take care of your health," Ronny added, waving goodbye.
"I will," Enzo promised. He waved him goodbye.
Yeah, people always have a reason for everything, but did everything really need a reason? Well, It was a question without a definitive answer. It's not like we can see through their minds or anything. Damn, humans are really complex creatures, and Enzo was no exception. He'd always believed he was good at hiding himself, but today he learned that someone like him was as easy to read as an open book.
If he was so transparent, what other truths about himself had he been blind to all along?