"I don't care if you're my friend, Zandro. If you cross me, then let's forget each other."
Rahiya's words hung in the air, but Zandro didn't move, didn't chase after her. He simply stood there, watching as she walked away, her figure growing smaller with each determined step. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as a gust of wind passed between them, carrying away whatever tense had been left in their conversation.
"Why did you do that?" Wyndel's voice broke the silence behind him, filled with frustration.
Zandro didn't turn around. "So that she won't make the same mistake again," he said, his tone calm yet firm.
Wyndel's jaw tightened. His patience is wearing thin. He stepped forward and grabbed Zandro's shoulder, forcefully turning him around. Their eyes met—one pair burning with anger, the other cold and unreadable.
"It wasn't her fault," Wyndel spat, his grip tightening.
"Don't be blind, Wyndel," Zandro said, his voice steady. "She. Did. That." Each word was a nail hammered into Wyndel's composure.
"She was just a child! She didn't do it because she wanted to!" Wyndel snapped, his fingers digging into Zandro's shoulder as if trying to shake some sense into him.
"But she's not a child anymore, is she?" Zandro's gaze darkened. "She's grown now, she knows what's wrong and right thing to do. And yet, she keeps making reckless choices based on who hurts her pride. Do you want the past to repeat itself? Over and over again?" He added and removed Wyndel's hand on his shoulder.
Wyndel gritted his teeth. "You didn't have to say it like that," he muttered, his voice laced with irritation.
Zandro finally sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking Wyndel in the eye. "And what do you expect me to do? Hold her hand and gently ask her to stop? You think she'd listen?" His voice dripped with disbelief. "No, Wyndel. Even if we talk to her nicely, she won't stop. She never listens."
"You bastard." Wyndel's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He wanted to punch Zandro—wanted to knock that infuriatingly cold expression right off his face—but they were still at school and he can't do that here. "Why can't you just let her be? She has the right to do whatever she wants!"
Zandro let out a bitter chuckle. "Using freewill in a wrong way would lead her to doom, Wyndel." He stepped closer and lightly tapped Wyndel's forehead. "Tell me, Wyndel…if she wanted to kill someone, would you still let her be?"
~~~
The conversation between Zandro and his two friends didn't end well—just like always. They fought, said harsh words, and left each other seething. Yet, somehow, they always found their way back. That was just how they were.
It had been this way since they were children.
Zandro exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He was used to it by now—being painted as the villain, the one who always had to be the bad guy.
"Zandro, don't be mean to them," his mother had once told him, carrying his smaller frame in her arms.
He had buried his face in her neck, stubbornly refusing to apologize.
"It's not my fault they're being dumb," he muttered. "I told them not to climb on the motorcycle, but they still did it."
His small hands clenched tightly onto his mother's shirt as he heard Rahiya and Wyndel crying in the background. Their wails made something twist in his chest, but he refused to say the words they wanted to hear.
"Zandro," his mother warned, her voice gentle but firm.
It was always like this. He would warn them, tell them not to do something reckless, but they never listened. And when they inevitably got hurt, he was the one who had to pick up the pieces.
From Rahiya's first boyfriend in elementary school—some clueless fool who couldn't meet her impossible expectations—to now, the guy who had dared to stand against her.
What was he supposed to do with the two idiots he cared about the most?
~~~
Monday, Rahiya didn't come to school.
How ironic.
The Queen is absent, while Lucius, the one she had locked in the abandoned building, sat calmly at the back of the classroom, flipping through a book as if nothing had happened.
A call from Rahiya's household confirmed her absence, and their homeroom teacher tasked Wyndel and Zandro with informing the rest of the subject teachers.
When the teacher left, Wyndel and Zandro exchanged a look.
"She rarely skips school," Wyndel murmured, concern etched across his face.
Zandro leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "She's probably just sulking."
Wyndel shot him a glare. "Sulking? Zandro, you argued and reminded her about something she didn't want to remember, and you think she is sulking?"
Zandro sighed but said nothing. His gaze flickered to the back of the room, where Lucius sat, absentmindedly tapping a pen against his desk.
As if he hadn't been locked away in that abandoned building.
As if he hadn't been left there to rot.
Zandro's fingers drummed against his own desk. Something didn't add up.
Before he could dwell on it further, Wyndel stood up abruptly. "I'm going to check on her."
"You're skipping?" Zandro asked, unimpressed.
"She needs someone."
Zandro sighed. "You're an idiot."
"Whatever you say, smartass." Wyndel quipped his things before slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way toward the door.
Zandro watched him go, shaking his head. His gaze flicked back to Lucius, who still hadn't spared them a glance.
How did he escape?