Key Story (2) - Chapter 6
The soft morning light seeped through the blinds, casting long shadows across Raxian's room. He lay motionless in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, but sleep had long escaped him. His eyes, heavy and bloodshot, remained fixed on his phone screen as he scrolled aimlessly through messages and notifications that felt hollow, distant. Everything seemed insignificant compared to the conversation he couldn't stop replaying in his head.
The quiet was unnerving. It was the kind of silence that followed a storm, heavy with the weight of things left unsaid, unresolved. A silence that only amplified the echo of Sable's words as they ricocheted inside his mind.
"I can't keep waiting for you."
He flinched at the memory, feeling a knot tighten in his chest. Her voice, the tremble of hurt beneath her anger—it was all so clear now, as if she was still standing in front of him, eyes burning with frustration and vulnerability. How had he not seen it before? The distance between them had been growing for weeks, but in that moment on the rooftop, everything had crystallized, and he hadn't been ready for it.
Raxian sighed and let his phone fall onto the pillow beside him. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, his mind spinning in circles, grasping for answers he didn't have.
Had he been selfish?
He hadn't meant to hurt her. He wasn't even sure if he truly understood the depth of what Sable had been going through. All he knew was that something between them had shifted, and instead of trying to bridge the gap, he had let it widen. He had pulled away, thrown himself into new things—new friends, guitar lessons, basketball—as if that would somehow make the tension disappear.
But it hadn't.
Instead, it had grown like a shadow, looming over them both until it had finally snapped in that rooftop argument. And now, with Sable missing, the weight of that realization felt unbearable.
He shifted onto his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to piece it all together. The regret gnawed at him. Could this have been avoided?
He thought of her again—how distant she had seemed lately, how they had drifted apart. He had noticed the change, but he hadn't done anything about it. Why hadn't he asked her how she was really feeling? Why hadn't he made the effort to close the gap? He had assumed she would be fine, that she would always be there. But now... now he wasn't so sure.
Was I wrong to focus on my own life? To explore things outside of League?
Raxian turned his head to the side, staring at his guitar propped up against the wall. He had found something new, something that felt like it could be a part of him outside of the gaming world. But was that at the cost of Sable? Was he really so blind that he hadn't noticed her slipping away?
He clenched his fists under the covers, the weight of it all pressing down on him. He wasn't sure what hurt more—the thought that he had left her behind, or the realization that she might have been right. He had changed, and somewhere along the way, he had let her drift out of his reach.
"You don't get it, do you?"
Her voice echoed in his mind again, sharper this time, cutting through the quiet. He had never seen Sable that vulnerable before, never heard her voice crack the way it did that evening. And now, he couldn't help but wonder if it was too late. If the damage had already been done.
The silence in the room seemed to thicken, pressing down on him as he replayed her words over and over again. Regret twisted inside him, a dull ache that wouldn't go away. He thought about what he could have done differently. He should have seen the signs, should have known that something was wrong long before it came to this.
But he hadn't. And now, the one person who had always been there for him was gone.
Raxian exhaled slowly, the heaviness in his chest growing with each passing second. He wasn't sure what to do, how to fix this. All he knew was that the silence that hung between them now felt permanent, and that thought terrified him more than anything.
What if she never came back?
That single question, whispered in the darkest corner of his mind, sent a chill through him. He didn't have answers, only the gnawing guilt that maybe he had pushed her too far, and now there was no going back.
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Raxian jogged toward the basketball court, his sneakers hitting the pavement with a rhythmic thud. He wasn't sure if this would help, but he needed something to get out of his own head. The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting long shadows across the empty streets as he made his way to the familiar spot.
As he stepped onto the court, the world seemed to quiet around him. He grabbed a ball from the nearby rack and started dribbling, the hollow sound echoing off the concrete. The rhythm was supposed to be calming, but today it felt off. Everything felt off.
With a sharp exhale, he lined up for a shot, hoping the physicality would drown out the thoughts circling in his mind. The ball arced through the air, spinning toward the basket. It hit the rim with a dull clang and bounced away. He cursed under his breath, running to retrieve it, his frustration growing.
I just need to clear my head.
But the more he tried to focus on the game, the more his mind wandered back to the rooftop—to Sable. He could still see the look in her eyes, the way her voice cracked when she asked why he had left her behind. The memory played on a loop, gnawing at him.
He shot the ball again, this time sinking it through the hoop, but the satisfaction was fleeting. The sound of the ball hitting the ground after felt... empty. It didn't fill the void. In the past, when things got tough, he would have logged on, played a few games, maybe even messaged Sable to blow off some steam. But now?
Now everything was different.
Raxian wiped the sweat from his brow, tossing the ball aside and leaning against the fence surrounding the court. His breath came in shallow gasps, but the physical exertion hadn't cleared his mind the way he'd hoped. All it did was remind him of how far away he felt from everything that used to matter.
Maybe I was wrong, he thought, staring at the ground. Maybe I shouldn't have pulled away from her like that.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, half-expecting another message from Sable, but it was his group chat with his other friends—the ones he had been hanging out with more recently. They were planning to meet up at their usual spot for some drinks and a movie later. For a moment, he considered ignoring it, letting the message sit unanswered, but a part of him knew he needed the distraction.
Raxian typed a quick reply—Sure, I'll be there—before pocketing the phone. It wasn't the game, it wasn't League, but it was something. He could push all of this down for a little while longer. Maybe hanging out with them would take the edge off.
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Later that evening, Raxian sat slouched in a booth at the diner, half-listening to the conversation buzzing around him. His friends were laughing, talking about the latest movie they were planning to see, but the words barely registered. His mind kept drifting, the weight of the rooftop conversation hanging over him like a storm cloud.
"Yo, Rax, you good?" one of his friends asked, nudging him with an elbow.
Raxian blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."
His friend chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, you better wake up before the movie, man. You're not gonna make it if you're already dozing off."
Raxian laughed along with them, though it felt hollow. He tried to join in, making half-hearted jokes and nodding at the right moments, but his mind wasn't in it. The conversation moved on without him, but all he could think about was Sable.
The void she left—the challenge she had always brought to his life—was glaring now. Even in the small things, she had pushed him, made him think differently, forced him to rise to the occasion. Without that, everything felt... dull.
His friends didn't notice the distance in his gaze, or if they did, they didn't push it. But Raxian could feel the tension building inside him, like he was standing on the edge of two worlds, unsure which one to belong to. The world of gaming, of competition, where Sable had always been a constant presence—and this new world, where he was supposed to be finding himself, trying to move on.
But can I really leave that all behind?
His thoughts were interrupted by another nudge, this time more insistent. "Come on, man, what's up with you? You've been off all night."
Raxian shook his head, forcing another smile. "I'm fine, just... a lot on my mind lately."
His friend raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but didn't push further. "Well, whatever it is, you'll figure it out. Just make sure you're awake for the movie, alright?"
Raxian nodded, but even as they continued talking, he knew that nothing they said could distract him from the growing storm inside. He was trying to live in both worlds—trying to move on while still holding on to something that might already be gone.
The ball was still bouncing, but it wasn't the same game anymore. And he wasn't sure how long he could keep pretending it was.
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As Raxian sat at the table, his friends' laughter growing more distant, his thoughts shifted once more—this time to Fayne.
Sable's words echoed in his mind, the accusation that had landed with an unexpected weight. "And then there's Fayne..." She had spoken the name with such certainty, as if Fayne was at the center of everything that had gone wrong between them.
But was she?
Raxian's brows furrowed as he leaned back in his seat, staring blankly at the remnants of his drink. He and Fayne had gotten close, sure. She was someone he could talk to without feeling the need to explain himself. She was easy to be around—low pressure, always calm, never pushing him the way Sable did. Maybe that was why it had felt so... comfortable. With Fayne, things were simple. She didn't demand answers from him, didn't question his choices. In her presence, he didn't feel the weight of expectation or the pressure to perform.
But was that really all it was?
He ran a hand through his hair, unsettled by the sudden wave of uncertainty that crept over him. He hadn't thought much about the role Fayne played in all of this, at least not until Sable had brought her up. And now, Raxian couldn't shake the thought that maybe—just maybe—Sable had been right.
Had he been leaning on Fayne more than he realized? He had told himself there was no romantic intention behind it, but now he wasn't so sure. It wasn't about attraction—at least, not in the traditional sense. Fayne was more like... a safe space. She made him feel understood without needing to explain himself. And that was rare. Even with Sable, things had always been more complicated, more intense.
Maybe too intense.
The contrast between them was stark. Sable had always challenged him, pushed him to be more, to fight harder, to grow. But Fayne... Fayne was different. She didn't demand anything from him. She was like a quiet harbor in the middle of a storm, offering him a place to rest when everything else felt too chaotic. And he hadn't realized how much he had needed that until now.
But as comforting as it was, Raxian couldn't ignore the possibility that his bond with Fayne had been part of what had driven a wedge between him and Sable. He hadn't meant for it to happen—hadn't even seen it coming—but maybe that was the problem. He had been too caught up in his own need for peace, for escape, to see how it might have affected the people around him.
The realization hit him harder than he expected.
Have I really been pulling away from Sable all this time, and not even realized it? He hadn't thought about it like that, hadn't seen it as neglect. But looking back now, with Sable's words still ringing in his ears, he wondered if he had been so focused on finding his own path that he had overlooked hers.
And Fayne? She had been there, quiet and steady, filling in the gaps where Sable once stood.
Raxian shifted in his seat, his chest tightening as the pieces started falling into place. He hadn't meant to hurt Sable, hadn't meant to create this distance between them. But now it was clear that his connection with Fayne—however innocent—had contributed to the rift.
He shook his head, trying to clear the confusion. Fayne wasn't to blame for this. She had only ever been kind to him, offering him a space to breathe when he felt suffocated by everything else. But that didn't change the fact that his growing closeness to her had complicated things with Sable in ways he hadn't even noticed.
What the hell am I doing?
The thought came unbidden, raw and unfiltered, and it scared him. He had spent so much time trying to figure out who he was outside of League, trying to find his own way, that he hadn't realized how much he was losing in the process. And now, with Sable gone and Fayne tangled up in the middle of it all, he wasn't sure where to go from here.
Raxian glanced at his phone again, his fingers itching to send a message. But to who? Sable? Fayne? Neither option felt right. He was caught between two worlds—two people—and he wasn't sure where he belonged anymore.
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The dim lighting of the theater flickered as the credits rolled on the screen. Raxian barely registered the movie's ending; his thoughts had drifted halfway through. He had been fidgeting with his phone in his pocket, trying not to check it during the movie. The light chatter and laughter of his friends filled the air, but he was in no mood to join in. He quickly pulled out his phone, unlocking it instinctively.
Three missed calls from Dad.
Raxian's breath hitched. His dad wasn't the type to call unless it was important. Three times? His pulse quickened as he stared at the screen. He hadn't heard the phone vibrate—he must have put it on silent during the movie.
His friends were still talking about the film, but their voices blurred into background noise as he hit redial. The ringing seemed to stretch out forever.
Finally, his dad picked up, and Raxian could tell something was off immediately—his dad didn't greet him, didn't even ask where he'd been.
Dad: (urgent, worried) "Rax, where've you been? I've been trying to reach you."
Raxian stood frozen in place, his gut churning. His dad never sounded like this—so tense, so strained.
Raxian: (voice tight) "I was at a movie. What's going on?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, the kind that fills you with dread.
Dad: "It's Sable. She's missing."
The words hit Raxian like a punch to the chest. Everything around him seemed to blur. His phone felt too heavy in his hand, and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.
Raxian: (shaky) "What do you mean, missing?"
His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
Dad: (explaining, worried) "Her dad called me. She didn't come home last night. He's worried sick, Rax. I thought you might know where she went. He said you were the last one who saw her."
Raxian's thoughts raced back to the rooftop—the argument, her walking away, and how he just let her go, thinking she needed space. He thought everything would blow over after a while. But now? She hadn't come home?
Raxian: (hollow) "We argued, Dad. But I didn't think she'd—"
He cut himself off, struggling to find the right words. His friends, still seated around him, started to notice something was wrong. The easygoing atmosphere evaporated as they exchanged glances.
Dad: "Rax, I'm not blaming you, but you need to think. Is there anywhere she would go? Somewhere she might hide out?"
His dad's words only deepened the weight in his chest. Where could Sable have gone? They'd fought, sure, but this wasn't like her. His mind scrambled to piece together anything that could make sense.
Raxian: (voice shaking) "I don't know, Dad. I'll call you back."
His father sighed, the tension in his voice softening a little.
Dad: "Alright. Keep me posted, son."
Raxian hung up, his hand trembling. He didn't notice how quiet the theater had gotten until he looked up. His friends had stopped talking, their attention now fully on him.
One of them, Jake, broke the silence.
Jake: (concerned) "Dude, everything okay?"
Raxian stood there, frozen, unable to meet their eyes. His world felt like it was crumbling in slow motion, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't have an answer. He tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat.
Raxian: (barely audible) "Sable's... she's missing."
His friends all exchanged uneasy glances, the mood shifting drastically from casual to tense in an instant.
Jake: (worried) "Wait, what? Like... gone missing?"
Another friend, Ryan, leaned forward, concern etched on his face.
Ryan: "What happened, man? When did you see her last?"
Raxian shook his head, feeling the weight of guilt pressing harder.
Raxian: (muttering) "Yesterday. We had an argument, and... I thought she just needed space."
They all fell silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. No one knew what to say, and Raxian couldn't handle their pity. He pocketed his phone, his mind spiraling. Without another word, he stood up abruptly and made for the exit. He could hear them calling after him, but he didn't turn back. He couldn't.
Outside, the evening air hit him, cool and biting. He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, but all he could think about was Sable. She hadn't come home. She was gone.
And he had no idea what to do next.
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Raxian stood frozen on the sidewalk, the evening air pressing heavily around him. The world blurred, distant city sounds fading into an eerie hum. His fingers gripped his phone tightly, his mind spiraling, consumed by the weight of everything that had just happened. Sable was missing. This wasn't just about their fight anymore; it was something much darker, something far beyond his control.
Guilt surged through him, sharp and suffocating. He couldn't shake the image of her on the rooftop—the bitterness in her voice, the hurt in her eyes. "I can't keep waiting for you." The words echoed in his mind, haunting him. He had believed she needed space, that things would cool down in time. But now, as fear twisted in his gut, he realized he might have been wrong. What if their argument had pushed her too far? What if she'd gone somewhere, alone, thinking no one would find her?
His pulse quickened, panic clawing at him. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself, but the growing dread remained, heavy in his chest. He knew Sable—she was tough, resilient. But even the strongest had breaking points.
Please... don't let this be my fault.
His thumb hovered over Milo's name in his contacts, hesitating for a split second before scrolling past it and stopping on Fayne. He wasn't sure why he hesitated—Milo was logical, dependable. But Fayne… Fayne had a way of understanding people, of seeing beyond the surface, especially with him. And right now, he couldn't afford to do nothing.
He pressed dial.
His entire body tensed, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for the call to connect. The ringing stretched on forever.
Raxian: (to himself, voice barely audible) "Come on, Sable... Where are you?"
His eyes flicked to the skyline, the city lights twinkling faintly in the distance. The rooftop conversation replayed in his mind, but its significance felt heavier now, more final. It had felt like the closing of one chapter, but now it seemed like something darker, more dangerous, was taking shape.
Raxian: (softly, voice breaking) "Please be okay."
As the phone continued to ring, Raxian's grip tightened, his knuckles white. His breaths were shallow, his mind a chaotic mess of fear and regret. He had no idea where Sable was or what had happened, but he knew—he couldn't lose her like this.
The call finally connected, Fayne's familiar voice crackling through the line.
Fayne: (softly) "Rax? What's going on?"
Raxian struggled to find his voice for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on him, but there was no turning back now. He needed her help.
Raxian: (voice trembling) "It's Sable... she's gone."
The city pulsed around him, indifferent to the chaos in his mind. But for Raxian, nothing mattered anymore except one thing: finding her. Making things right.
Before it was too late.
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Fayne was curled up on her bed, the soft glow of her desk lamp casting long shadows in the room. She was lost in thought, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone, when it buzzed unexpectedly. The name on the screen made her pause—Raxian. It wasn't unusual for him to call, but something about this felt different.
She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the screen before answering.
Fayne: (softly) "Rax? What's going on?"
The second she heard his voice, her chest tightened. He sounded... broken. It wasn't the confident, cocky Raxian she was used to. There was a tremble in his tone, something raw that she rarely heard from him. It took her a moment to process his words—Sable... she's gone.
Fayne: (sharp intake of breath) "Gone? What do you mean she's gone?"
Her mind raced, a dozen thoughts flooding her all at once. She sat up quickly, the comfort of the blanket forgotten as her heart began to pound. She had known something was off between Raxian and Sable lately. She'd seen the distance growing between them, but this? This was something else entirely.
As Raxian explained what little he knew, Fayne's stomach twisted in knots. Sable, missing? It didn't make sense. Sable was strong, independent. She could handle herself—couldn't she? But the more she listened to Raxian, the more the unease settled deeper within her. The tension between Raxian and Sable had been building for weeks, and maybe—just maybe—this was the breaking point.
But it didn't feel right.
Fayne: (voice cracking) "Rax, how... how long has she been missing?"
Raxian's answer was barely audible, and that's when the panic truly set in. Hours. She'd been missing for hours. That sinking feeling turned into something much colder, much darker. Fayne's mind flashed to all the worst possibilities, but she forced herself to stay grounded, to focus.
Fayne: (trying to steady her voice) "Did she say anything? Anything at all that might hint at where she went?"
But even as she asked, Fayne knew Raxian was probably just as lost as she was. This wasn't the first time someone she cared about had drifted away, but this... this felt different. Sable wasn't just taking space—she was gone, and that word carried with it a weight that Fayne wasn't prepared to handle.
Her mind flashed to the last time she'd seen Sable—calm, composed, with that underlying sharpness that she always admired. Fayne had always been aware of the tension between Sable and Raxian, but now, all she could feel was guilt creeping in. Had she been part of the reason things had gotten this bad? Had her quiet presence in Raxian's life contributed to the distance between them?
Fayne: (softly, to herself) "I didn't think it would get this far..."
There was a brief silence between them, and she could hear the pain in Raxian's breath, the helplessness that mirrored her own.
Fayne: (voice soft but determined) "We'll find her, Rax. We have to."
But as she said the words, Fayne couldn't shake the coldness settling in her chest. She had no idea where Sable was or what had driven her to leave, but one thing was clear—this was no longer just about their strained friendship or any rivalry between her and Sable. Something bigger was at play, and Fayne couldn't help but feel like they were running out of time.
She gripped her phone tightly, her mind racing through what they should do next. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she pushed it aside, focusing on Raxian's voice, trying to offer what little comfort she could. Deep down, though, the fear was growing—fear that this might end in a way none of them were prepared for.
Fayne: (softly, almost to herself) "Where are you, Sable?"
And for the first time in a long time, Fayne felt powerless.
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As Fayne listened to Raxian on the other end of the line, her mind kept wandering back to Milo. She knew Raxian was looking for answers, for anyone who could help, but her instinct told her that pulling Milo into this might not be the right move. Not yet. Milo had always been the steady one, the person she could lean on when things got tough—but things between them weren't the same anymore. They hadn't been for a while.
She closed her eyes, remembering that winter day, sitting across from him in the restaurant, the unspoken tension filling the space between them. It had taken so much to get him to that table, to even start the conversation that they both knew needed to happen. She remembered the look in his eyes when he told her how he felt like a "spare part," like he had been left behind while she focused all her attention on Raxian. Fayne had never forgotten those words, or the hurt behind them.
Milo was always so careful to hide his emotions, to bury them deep where no one could see. But she had seen through it that day. She saw how much he cared—how much he had always cared. And now, as she stood here with the phone pressed against her ear, Raxian's worried voice filling the silence, she realized just how much of a risk it would be to involve Milo in this situation. Especially now, with everything so uncertain.
Fayne: (inwardly) "If I tell Raxian to call Milo, it'll only stir things up. Milo's still holding onto that resentment, and this will only make it worse."
She knew Milo wouldn't say it outright, but his feelings about Raxian had always been complicated, tangled up in their shared history and Milo's unspoken feelings for her. Fayne had always tried to keep things balanced, to make sure she wasn't putting too much strain on their relationship. But in this moment, with Sable missing and Raxian spiraling, she couldn't afford to risk pushing Milo into something he wasn't ready to face.
Her thoughts flickered back to Sable. She couldn't shake the feeling that Sable had been watching everything—her relationship with Milo, her dynamic with Raxian—without ever saying a word. Sable wasn't the type to express her emotions openly, but Fayne had always sensed that quiet jealousy, that underlying tension.
Fayne: (softly, to herself) "Milo would try to help, but he'd be holding back. And that wouldn't be fair to him."
Fayne let out a shaky breath, tightening her grip on the phone. She knew Raxian needed support, but this wasn't something Milo could handle right now. Not when his own feelings were so tangled in the mess of their lives. Not when the risk of pushing him away even further was so high.
Instead, she said nothing about Milo, keeping her voice steady as she reassured Raxian. Fayne: "We'll figure this out. I'll help you as much as I can." She just wasn't sure how much help she could be—not when she knew how fragile everything between them all had become.