Key Story (1) - Chapter 7
The dull thud of the bartender's fist against the counter roused Raze from his slumped position.
He groaned, blinking against the dim lights of the bar. The place was nearly empty now, just a few stragglers gathered in the corners, muttering to each other. He felt the bartender's disapproving gaze on him.
"Time to rise and shine, man. Can't sleep here all day," the bartender said, his voice rough, like the scrape of gravel. Raze rubbed his eyes, the world swimming back into focus, and he pushed himself up from the counter.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," Raze mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He glanced around, noticing the empty seats where his friends had been earlier in the night. They were long gone, probably disappeared hours ago without a second thought. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Figures, he thought, pushing down the familiar sting. He'd gotten used to this emptiness, the kind that lingered after the laughter faded.
He staggered to his feet, shrugging on his jacket. The bartender watched him, arms crossed, but didn't say anything more as Raze fumbled with his wallet, tossing a few crumpled bills onto the counter before heading out the door.
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The air outside hit him like a splash of cold water. He took a deep breath, the chill of the early morning cutting through the haze of alcohol. It was dark, but the sky had started to lighten just enough to outline the shapes of buildings against the horizon. He leaned against the rough brick wall beside the bar and pulled out a cigarette, cupping his hands to light it. The orange glow flared briefly, illuminating the tired lines on his face, and he took a long drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs.
He pulled out his phone, his thumb swiping through the notifications. His blurry vision caught on a message from Raxian, and he squinted to read it:
"Hey man, thank you for putting up with my bullshit the past days. It has been real."
For a second, Raze just stared at the words, blinking through the fog of exhaustion and alcohol. Then, without realizing it, a small, crooked smile spread across his lips. He exhaled smoke, watching it curl into the cold morning air. That kid, he thought. Always making me feel things when I'm trying not to.
Despite everything, Raxian's message warmed a place inside him that had felt empty for a long time. It wasn't poetic or overly sentimental, but it was real, and that was enough.
Raze started walking, the streets eerily quiet at this hour. The hum of the city felt distant, muted beneath the soft rustle of a breeze sweeping through the alleyways. He stuffed his free hand into his jacket pocket, keeping the other around the cigarette as he meandered through the empty roads. Streetlights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows that danced with each step he took.
As he walked, his thoughts drifted back to Raxian. He remembered the kid's intense focus, the way he pushed himself even when everything seemed to be going wrong. Raze knew that Raxian had a habit of getting in his own head—hell, they were more alike than either of them probably wanted to admit. But somewhere along the line, Raze had started seeing something in him.
A stubbornness, maybe, or a kind of fire that reminded him of his younger self, before things got messy.
I'm not a role model, Raze thought, letting the words roll through his mind like smoke.
But maybe he was more than he gave himself credit for. Raxian saw something in him—something worth sticking around for—and that mattered in a way that was hard to ignore.
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When Raze reached his apartment, the quiet felt like a welcome relief. He fumbled with the keys before finally getting the door open. Inside, the small space was tidy, the floors swept clean, and the kitchen counter free of clutter. Artwork from his classes covered the walls—sketches, canvases, even a few abstract pieces that he hadn't been able to part with. They took up more space than the apartment could comfortably hold, but Raze didn't mind. They made the place feel like his own.
He slipped off his jacket and headed straight to the kitchen, the hum of the fridge filling the silence. His stomach growled, the lingering effects of the alcohol making him crave something solid. He cracked a few eggs into a pan, the sizzle of oil filling the air, and set some toast in the toaster.
As he chopped up a leftover tomato, his thoughts wandered back to the message on his phone.
Maybe I'm not totally useless, he mused as he flipped the eggs. The thought was almost comforting, like the warmth of the stove beneath his fingertips. He wasn't sure if he believed it yet, but it was nice to pretend, even for a moment.
Raze settled at his small dining table with a plate of eggs, toast, and veggies. He ate slowly, savoring the warmth of the food. Outside, the sky was starting to lighten, the first hints of sunrise turning the dark horizon into shades of deep blue and grey. He stared out the window, watching the city come to life in slow motion, like a painting unfurling before him.
He considered sending a message back to Raxian but decided against it for now. He'd find the right words later. For now, he let the quiet wash over him, taking comfort in the simple ritual of eating breakfast alone. The loneliness was still there, but it didn't feel quite as sharp with Raxian's message lingering in the back of his mind.
When he finished eating, he left the plate in the sink and stumbled toward his bed, crashing onto the unmade sheets. As he lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the heaviness of sleep finally started to pull him under.
His last thought before sleep took him was of Raxian and the feeling that, maybe, he wasn't as alone as he thought. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make the morning feel a little less cold.
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The sun was higher in the sky by the time Raze stepped out again, its warmth cutting through the chill that lingered from the early morning. He still felt the dull throb of a hangover behind his eyes, but the fresh air helped clear his head. He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, feeling the weight of the items he'd packed for his visit—some snacks, a magazine, and a small thermos of coffee. It wasn't much, but it was something.
The walk to the flower shop took him through quieter streets, the city slowly waking up around him. He tried to focus on the rhythm of his footsteps, but his mind kept drifting to his relative.
The memory of their illness hit like a cold gust of wind, taking him back to a time when he'd been just a kid, too young to understand why someone he loved had to suffer like that. It was one of those things that had messed him up, led him into the wrong crowds and the wrong decisions. But it had also become the reason he visited the hospital regularly now, hoping to make up for all the things he couldn't change.
When he reached the flower shop, Raze pushed open the door, a small bell chiming overhead.
The cool air inside was a relief after the sun's glare. He stepped into a space filled with the scent of fresh blooms, the soft hum of a fan blending with the rustle of leaves. Rows of colorful arrangements lined the walls, a mix of bright yellows, soft purples, and deep reds. It was the kind of place that seemed untouched by the messiness of the outside world.
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Behind the counter, Fayne was busy rearranging a bouquet, her back turned toward him.
She moved with practiced precision, her fingers deftly weaving stems and ribbons together.
The sight of a new customer made her pause, and she turned around, offering the polite smile she'd learned to wear at the shop.
But then, as her gaze met Raze's, her smile faltered. For a moment, she just stared, trying to place where she'd seen him before. There was something familiar about his messy, dark blue hair streaked with neon blue strands that caught the light with every subtle movement.
The vibrant streaks stood out against his otherwise toned-down appearance, a reminder of his bolder style even when he seemed to be trying to keep a low profile. His bomber jacket, darker and more muted this time, had only a faint glow along the cuffs—just enough to hint at his usual flair.
Then, the memory clicked—him sitting on a park bench, mentioning Raxian.
Fayne felt her chest tighten, her curiosity flaring despite herself. She kept her expression neutral, focusing on the bouquet she was tying, but she couldn't shake the urge to know more.
Her gaze flicked over him again, noting the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his dark jeans fitting snugly, more practical than flashy. It was as if he was trying to blend in, but the blue streaks in his hair and the slight glow on the edges of his sneakers still made him stand out.
But what really caught her attention were his eyes—a shade of purple that seemed to hold a quiet intensity, as if they were always looking deeper than the surface. There was no glow, just a striking color that seemed to make his gaze linger a little longer in her mind.
Raze, oblivious to her recognition, wandered between the displays, scanning the arrangements.
His movements were casual, but she could see how he folded his arms in a way that seemed almost protective, like he was keeping the world at a distance. His gaze landed on a small bouquet of daisies and lavender—simple but bright. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands before making his way to the counter.
As Fayne wrapped the flowers, her hands moved more slowly than usual, her mind racing with questions she didn't know if she should ask. She glanced up at Raze, noticing the way his fingers brushed over the bouquet—no gloves this time, but she caught a glint of rings on his hands, small and silver, understated compared to what she imagined he'd usually wear. It was strange, seeing him like this, almost like he was trying to tone down his usual edge for the visit. Her voice caught in her throat before she managed to speak.
"I... I think I saw you a while back. At the park."
Raze raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden comment. "Yeah? I hang around there sometimes."
Fayne's grip on the bouquet tightened slightly. "You mentioned... Raxian. How do you know him?"
Raze's expression shifted, and he studied her for a moment, really looking at her this time—the white hair, the blue eyes that seemed too intense to forget. He took in the way she carried herself—reserved but curious, like she was guarding more than she let on. A realization crept over him, and he couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at his lips.
"You're Fayne, aren't you?"
Fayne's breath caught, and she felt a strange jolt in her chest as he said her name. She didn't want to admit how much it unsettled her to be recognized, especially after everything that had happened with Raxian. Her fingers fumbled with the ribbon, and she tried to keep her voice steady.
"Yeah. I am."
Raze leaned against the counter, folding his arms casually. But there was a new curiosity in his gaze, the kind that made Fayne's stomach twist with nerves. He seemed to be weighing his words, choosing them carefully for once. Even in this subdued setting, there was an edge to him, like he was holding back something sharper beneath the surface.
"Raxian talks about you sometimes," he said, his tone softer than she expected. "
More than he probably realizes."
Fayne looked down, her fingers going still against the bouquet. The hurt she'd been holding back bubbled up, mixing with a flash of something like hope. "He... hasn't reached out since," she admitted quietly.
Raze watched her, noting the way she tried to hide her uncertainty. He recognized that look—he'd seen it in his own reflection more times than he could count. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, even though he barely knew her. It wasn't hard to see why Raxian cared about this girl, even if Raxian himself probably didn't realize it yet.
"Raxian's a tough kid," Raze said, offering a lopsided smile. "Stubborn as hell, too. But he cares... even if he's bad at showing it."
Fayne's expression softened, a small crease forming between her brows as she listened.
She didn't respond right away, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—like she was holding onto his words, trying to believe them.
Raze reached for his wallet and paid for the flowers, picking up the bouquet with a small, almost sheepish smile. "Take care, Fayne. And... maybe give him another chance. He might surprise you."
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Fayne watched him leave, the bell chiming softly as the door swung shut behind him.
She stood there for a moment, staring through the window as Raze disappeared down the street. Her thoughts swirled, mixing with a strange sense of relief and confusion. Raze's words echoed in her mind, chipping away at the wall she'd built around herself after the fight with Raxian.
Outside, Raze walked with the bouquet in hand, feeling the weight of the conversation settle in his chest. He hadn't expected to meet Fayne, and certainly not like this. But as he thought about the way her expression had softened, the way she seemed so lost, he wondered if maybe this was what Raxian needed—someone who could see the real him, flaws and all.
He glanced down at the flowers, his grip tightening slightly around the stems. He still had a visit to make, and it wasn't one he could afford to miss. But as he made his way toward the hospital, he couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to come together in ways he hadn't expected.
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Fayne stood behind the counter, watching through the shop window as Raze disappeared down the street. The bell over the door had already stopped chiming, but the sound seemed to echo in her mind. She turned his words over, trying to make sense of them. Raxian talks about you sometimes. More than he probably realizes. The admission tugged at her thoughts, unsettling her. Raxian had never mentioned Raze to her before, not even in passing. What else didn't she know about him?
She glanced down at the ribbon still clutched between her fingers, twisting it absentmindedly. There had always been a distance between her and Raxian, a sense that he kept parts of himself hidden. And now, meeting someone who knew him well—someone Raxian had never even mentioned—only made that distance feel wider.
The bell above the door rang again, and Fayne looked up to see her mother returning from her errand, a small paper bag in hand. Her mom's gaze softened when she saw Fayne's expression.
"Are you alright, sweetie?" her mother asked, tilting her head slightly. "You look like you've got something on your mind."
Fayne forced a smile, her fingers smoothing out the crumpled ribbon. She didn't want to burden her mother with her confusion, especially when she couldn't fully understand it herself.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Mom. Just... thinking about a customer, that's all."
Her mother watched her for a moment longer, then nodded. "Alright. If you need to talk, you know I'm here."
"I know," Fayne replied, slipping back into work mode as she started tidying up the counter.
She focused on the familiar routine, letting it fill the silence between them.
She had only agreed to work a few hours today, just helping out while her mother ran errands.
After this, she had plans—a small escape from the weight of her thoughts. She was meeting up with Leah and Mira, friends from school, for a shopping trip. It had been Leah's idea; she'd been talking nonstop about finding the perfect pair of new sneakers.
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Fayne met Leah and Mira at the entrance of the shopping center, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of her encounter with Raze. The mall was busy, filled with the chatter of shoppers and the hum of background music. Leah immediately led them to a sneaker store, her enthusiasm infectious as she browsed the shelves.
"Okay, these are cute, but are they really worth the price?" Leah asked, holding up a pair of bright pink sneakers.
Mira rolled her eyes with a playful grin. "Leah, you've said that about every pair so far. Just pick one already."
Fayne tried to join in their banter, but her mind kept wandering. She barely noticed the stores they passed, her thoughts looping back to Raxian and Raze. She wondered what Raxian would say if he knew she'd run into his friend. Would he care? Or would he brush it off like so many other things?
She was pulled from her thoughts when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She fished it out, glancing at the screen, and felt her breath hitch.
It was a message from Raxian.
Hey. I know it's been a while, but... I'd like to talk, if that's okay.
Her fingers hovered over the screen, her mind suddenly blank. She hadn't expected him to reach out, especially not after how they'd left things. The words seemed heavy, like they carried the weight of all the things left unsaid between them.
Leah, noticing the shift in Fayne's expression, nudged her gently. "Hey, everything okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Mira glanced over, concern knitting her brows. "Yeah, you're kind of pale. What's up?"
Fayne forced a smile, slipping her phone back into her pocket. "It's... nothing, just a text. I'll catch up with you guys in a bit, okay?"
She excused herself, stepping away from the bustling crowd to find a quieter corner of the mall. With a shaky breath, she pulled out her phone again, staring at Raxian's message. Her mind wavered between the urge to ignore it and the lingering hope that maybe this could be the start of patching things up.
Okay. Where do you want to meet? she typed back, her thumb hesitating over the send button before she pressed it. The message sent, and she slipped her phone back into her pocket, waiting for a reply.
As she rejoined Leah and Mira, her mind was already elsewhere, thinking about what she might say when she saw Raxian again.
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The sun hung low in the sky as Fayne made her way through the quiet streets, her shopping bags swinging lightly at her side. She had changed into a more comfortable outfit after parting ways with Leah and Mira, swapping out her stylish jacket for a warm sweater that shielded her from the cooler afternoon breeze. Their shopping trip had ended with a lunch at her favorite sushi bar—a cozy little place tucked away on a side street, where the owner always knew her by name. It was a small indulgence, one that left her feeling a little lighter after a morning filled with laughter and easy conversation.
Now, with her friends gone and the reality of the upcoming meeting settling back in, the sushi's warmth seemed to fade, replaced by a knot of nervous energy in her chest. She had just under an hour before she was supposed to meet Raxian, but she didn't mind arriving a little early. It gave her time to think, to gather her thoughts before facing him. Her mind was a tangle of questions and half-formed worries, the kind that twisted in her chest and made it hard to breathe.
As she approached the overlook, the path dipped slightly, leading her toward the edge of a gentle hill that sloped down toward the river. Tall grasses swayed with the breeze, brushing against her legs as she made her way to the wooden railing that lined the overlook. Beyond it, the city sprawled out in front of her, its skyline catching the golden light of the setting sun. The river below wound lazily through the landscape, its surface catching flecks of light like scattered stars.
Fayne leaned against the railing, setting her bags down beside her. She let out a slow breath, the chill of the wind brushing against her face. It was peaceful here, the kind of place that made it easier to untangle the mess of thoughts in her mind.
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She heard footsteps approaching behind her and turned to see Raxian walking up the path.
He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, his shoulders hunched against the breeze. For a moment, he seemed smaller than she remembered, like he'd been carrying something heavy for too long. But when he caught her gaze, he offered a small, tentative smile.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than she expected.
"Hey," Fayne replied, forcing herself to smile back. It felt strange, seeing him like this—vulnerable, uncertain. She turned back to the view, letting the silence stretch between them. She wasn't sure how to start, or what words might make things better.
Raxian joined her at the railing, resting his elbows against the worn wood. He didn't speak right away either, his gaze focused on the skyline as if he was searching for something among the distant rooftops.
For a while, they just stood there, side by side, the silence between them filled with the distant rush of the river below and the gentle rustling of leaves. It was a comfortable quiet, one that felt easier to bear than the weight of unspoken words.
Finally, Raxian took a deep breath, the sound cutting through the stillness. "I'm... sorry, Fayne," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He kept his eyes on the horizon, as if afraid to meet her gaze. "For everything. For what I said that day. I shouldn't have... I didn't mean to hurt you."
Fayne's grip on the railing tightened. She could feel the sincerity in his voice, the way the words seemed to scrape out of him, raw and unpolished. But it didn't erase the hurt that had been festering since their fight. She glanced over at him, searching his expression for some sign of the Raxian she thought she knew.
"You really hurt me, Raxian," she admitted, her voice steady but strained. "And I didn't understand why. You just... lashed out, and then you were gone."
Raxian's shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I was in a bad place. Not that it's an excuse, but... I took things out on you that I shouldn't have. I know that now."
Fayne studied his face, seeing the shadows beneath his eyes, the exhaustion that clung to his features. There was a part of her that wanted to hold onto her anger, to keep him at a distance.
But Raze's words echoed in her mind: He cares... even if he's bad at showing it.
She turned back toward the river, the breeze ruffling her hair. "You didn't have to shut me out," she said softly. "I would have listened, Raxian. I've always been here."
Raxian let out a humorless laugh, the sound rough. "Yeah, I know. I guess I was too stubborn to see it." He hesitated, his voice dropping. "But I'm here now, Fayne. And if you're willing to give me another chance... I'd like to make things right."
Fayne took a long, steadying breath, letting the wind cool the heat rising in her chest. She wasn't sure if she could forgive him just yet. There was still too much hurt tangled up in the memory of their fight, too much that had been left unsaid. But as she looked at him now, at the honesty in his expression, she felt a flicker of the connection they'd once shared.
"I don't know if I can forgive you. It's not just about what you said. It's about the fact that you shut me out when I tried to be there for you. And now... I don't even know if I want to let you back in."
Raxian nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, I get that. I'm not expecting anything right away." He paused, glancing sideways at her. "Thanks for hearing me out, though.
It means more than you know."
Fayne didn't respond immediately, but she felt something shift in the space between them—something fragile, like a thread that hadn't yet broken. She knew they still had a long way to go, and that things wouldn't magically go back to the way they were. But for the first time since their fight, the distance between them didn't feel so unbridgeable.
They stayed there a little longer, letting the quiet settle around them. Below, the river flowed steadily, its current carrying away the last traces of daylight as the sky deepened into evening.
And though neither of them spoke, the silence felt different now—more like the start of something, rather than the end.