Keifer's POV
The house was dark when I got back.
Too quiet.
I didn't turn on the lights. I didn't need to see the walls I knew them. I knew every shadow, every corner that echoed with things I pretended I didn't remember.
I went straight to the bar.
Glass clinked against glass. The sound was sharp, accusing. I poured without measuring, the amber liquid sloshing up the sides like it was impatient to be used. I took the first drink in one go.
It burned.
Good.
I poured another. And another.
I didn't drink to forget. That was the lie people told. I drank because I deserved to feel it every ugly thought, every cruel truth clawing its way up my throat.
You did this.
I stared at my reflection in the dark window across the room. Red eyes. Jaw tight. That familiar, dangerous stillness sitting under my skin.
My father used to look like that.
The thought hit harder than the alcohol.
He used to stand exactly like this silent, furious, convinced the world owed him obedience. He loved with his fists clenched. With his voice raised. With rules that felt more like threats.
I'm not like him, I used to tell myself.
I laughed then. Low. Broken.
A third drink went down, then a fourth.
But I am, aren't I?
Different words. Same damage.
I slammed the glass down so hard the liquid spilled over my hand. I didn't wipe it away.
I remembered Jay's flinch.
That tiny movement barely there but I saw it. I always saw it too late. The way her shoulders drew in. The way her voice softened like she was already bracing for impact.
Just like my mother used to.
My chest tightened painfully.
"No," I muttered. "No, no, no..."
I dragged a hand through my hair, pacing now, the room spinning just enough to make it hard to breathe. Memories kept stacking on top of each other, relentless.
My father shouting.
My mother going quiet.
Me standing there, helpless, promising myself I'd never be him.
And then Jay
standing in front of me with tears in her eyes
telling me I broke my promise.
Again.
I poured another drink with shaking hands.
What kind of man hurts the person he loves?
What kind of man scares the girl he'd die for?
The answer whispered back at me from the glass.
The same kind your father was.
My stomach turned. I pressed my palm against the counter, grounding myself, breathing hard.
If I stayed like this
if I didn't change
I would ruin her.
I would cage her with my fear.
I would bruise her with my anger.
I would turn love into something she'd need to escape from.
And I would rather burn alive than become that man.
"I won't," I said aloud, my voice rough, breaking. "I won't do that to you."
The alcohol blurred the edges of the room, but not the truth.
Loving Jay wasn't enough.
Not if my love came with fear attached.
Not if my past kept bleeding into her present.
I slid down against the cabinet, sitting on the cold floor, head falling back. The bottle tipped beside me, forgotten.
Tears burned my eyes hot, furious, humiliating.
"I'm trying," I whispered. "God, I'm trying."
Trying to unlearn anger.
Trying to outgrow a shadow that wore my face.
Trying to love without destroying.
The bottle lay on its side, rolling slightly every time my hand shook.
I didn't pick it up right away.
I just sat there on the cold floor, back against the cabinet, staring at nothing because everything inside me was too loud.
I hated myself.
Not in a quiet, passing way. Not in a I made a mistake way.
I hated myself in a deep, rotting way he kind that made your chest ache and your skin feel wrong, like you wanted to crawl out of your own body just to get away from who you were.
I pressed my fists into my eyes, hard.
How many times had I sworn I'd be better?
How many times had I promised her promised that I wouldn't raise my voice, wouldn't let anger win, wouldn't become someone she had to fear?
And still.
Still I did it.
Still I saw that look on her face.
That look that said here it comes again.
God, I hated that I was the reason she knew that look at all.
I grabbed the bottle again and took another long drink, like maybe if I swallowed enough fire it would burn the truth out of me.
It didn't.
It just made it sharper.
"You're disgusting," I muttered to my reflection in the dark glass of the cabinet. "You say you love her... and this is how you prove it?"
My voice cracked, and that only made the hatred worse.
Weak.
Pathetic.
Just like him.
My father's face flashed in my mind his cold eyes, his cruel calm, the way he always justified himself.
I felt sick.
I dragged my hands through my hair and laughed a broken, ugly sound.
"I sound just like you," I whispered. "I act just like you."
And that terrified me.
Because what if I couldn't change?
What if this wasn't something I learned but something I was?
What if Jay stayed, hoping I'd get better, the same way my mother stayed waiting, shrinking, breaking piece by piece?
The thought made my chest seize so hard I had to curl forward, gasping.
"No," I breathed. "I won't do that to her. I won't turn her into that."
The thought hit me so suddenly it almost stole my breath.
I'm useless.
Not just broken. Not just angry.
Useless.
I stared at my hands hands that only seemed good for hurting people, pushing them away, ruining whatever they touched. What had I ever actually fixed? What had I ever made better?
Nothing.
I let out a hollow laugh and leaned my head back against the cabinet.
"I'm just a thorn," I muttered. "Stuck in everyone's life... hurting them just by being there."
Every memory lined up perfectly to prove it.
My mother tired eyes, forced smiles, staying longer than she should have because of me.
Angelo carrying responsibility like a weight he never asked for.
Jay soft, fragile, already hurting... and then there was me, digging deeper wounds into her heart.
Everyone would be better without me.
That thought didn't even feel dramatic. It felt logical. Clean. Like the answer to a problem that had gone on too long.
I was the common factor in every mess.
Every argument.
Every tear.
I brought chaos where there should've been peace.
I slammed the bottle down on the counter, hard enough that liquid sloshed over the edge.
"I don't protect," I whispered bitterly. "I destroy."
What kind of person does that to the girl he loves?
What kind of person claims he cares, then becomes the very thing she needs to be saved from?
My chest burned, shame crawling through me like poison.
Jay deserved warmth. Safety. Someone who didn't make her flinch when his voice got loud. Someone whose love didn't feel like walking through fire.
And I...
I was just pain in human form.
A thorn.
Sharp. Unwanted. Always in the way.
I slid down to the floor again, back against the cabinet, knees pulled to my chest.
"Maybe that's why everyone gets hurt," I murmured. "Because I don't know how to exist without damaging things."
The room felt smaller. Heavier.
If I die, the world would finally breathe easier.
No more apologies.
No more promises I couldn't keep.
No more fear in her eyes because of me.
I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead into my knees.
"I'm sorry," I whispered to Jay, to everyone, to the version of myself I should've been but never managed to become.
But the hatred didn't loosen.
It grew.
I hated that my love came wrapped in fear.
I hated that my first instinct was control.
I hated that anger lived in me so easily.
I hated that apologizing came only after the damage was done.
Most of all
I hated that I hurt the one person I loved more than my own life.
Tears slipped down my face before I could stop them. I didn't wipe them away.
I deserved them.
"I don't deserve you," I whispered into the empty room. "I don't deserve your trust. Or your patience. Or your heart."
My phone buzzed again somewhere nearby.
I still didn't look.
I curled in on myself, arms wrapped tight around my chest like I was trying to hold myself together, or maybe punish myself it was hard to tell anymore.
"If loving you means becoming better," I murmured, voice shaking, "then I'll tear myself apart until I am."
Even if it hurt.
Even if it took everything.
Even if I had to face every ugly piece of myself I'd been running from.
Because I hated who I was right now.
And for Jay
I refused to stay this way.
Aries' POV
We were in the car.
I was driving. Jay sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, eyes unfocused too distant. I knew that look too well. It was the look she got when her thoughts turned cruel, when she replayed everything and blamed herself for things that were never her fault.[A/N:forget she had even laugh]
She wasn't just thinking.
She was tearing herself apart.
I didn't rush her.
I didn't speak.
I just drove.
After some time, we stopped in front of Ella's house. I kept the engine running. The sound filled the silence, steady and low. Ella came out a moment later and opened the passenger-side door.
Jay didn't notice.
Not even a flicker.
She was gone....lost somewhere far deeper than the road in front of us.
A second passed. Maybe two. Then she flinched, like she'd been yanked back into her body.
"Oh," she said softly and reached for her seatbelt. "I'll go to the back—"
"No need."
The words came out firmer than I intended. Instinct. Reflex. Something older than thought.
Both of them froze.
"Ella," I said, still looking straight ahead, "today you sit in the back seat."
Jay blinked. "I will go—"
"No need. Just sit."
She opened her mouth again,confusion written all over her face, but I ended it with a single glance.
That was it.
She shut the door harder than necessary and walked around to the back, disappointment heavy in every step. I knew she'd be angry later. I knew I'd have to deal with it.
I didn't care.
This was for my sister.
I hadn't protected her when we were kids. I'd been there, but not there. I hadn't noticed the cracks soon enough. I hadn't stopped the damage while it was still small enough to heal cleanly.
That guilt never leaves you.
But now?
Now I was watching.
Now I was choosing her.
She deserved happiness. She deserved peace. And if the world wouldn't give it to her willingly, I'd carve out space for it myself even if it meant standing alone.
I pulled the car back onto the road.
The rest of the ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
Jay's shoulders stayed tense, like she was expecting something bad to happen any second. Her fingers kept dragging against her own palm, nails pressing in, then releasing, then pressing again. Like she was punishing herself for breathing wrong.
I noticed everything.
Every breath she held too long.
Every time she shrank into herself.
Every moment she hurt herself without even realizing she was doing it.
It made something hot and ugly twist in my chest.
When we reached the school, I parked the car and turned off the engine.
That's when I saw him.
Keifer.
Leaning against his car a few spaces away.
His eyes were bloodshot red and hollow like he hadn't slept, like sleep wouldn't come even if he begged for it. His hair was a mess, clothes wrinkled, posture tight with something close to desperation.
He didn't look dangerous.
He looked wrecked.
He straightened the second he saw us.
Jay opened the door.
Didn't look at him.
Keifer took a step forward, mouth moving, trying to say something maybe an apology, maybe her name, maybe something that would make this hurt less.
I couldn't hear it.
Jay walked past him.
No pause.
No glance.
No mercy.
She didn't even acknowledge that he existed.
Keifer said something again voice rough, broken but Jay kept walking, straight toward the school, like stopping would shatter whatever strength she'd stitched together.
And I watched it all.
This wasn't the Keifer I knew.
And that scared me almost as much as how much my sister was hurting.
And even then... even after everything
I knew.
No matter how broken friendship is between me and Keifer now, I knew how much he loved her.
I'd seen it in the way he'd changed over time quietly, painfully. Keifer was never the type to bend for anyone. Never desperate. Never reckless with his heart. He used to walk away first, laugh things off, pretend nothing ever touched him.
But not with her.
This version of him unshaven, hollow-eyed, standing there like he'd lost something vital this wasn't an act. This wasn't pride wounded or ego bruised.
He was hurting.
Badly.
He'd never looked this desperate for any girl. Not once. Not ever. And that terrified me, because I knew what it meant.
It meant he wasn't fighting just to be understood anymore.
He was fighting not to lose her completely.
And yet... loving my sister didn't erase the damage.
It didn't undo the fear in her eyes.
It didn't make her pain smaller.
I could understand his hurt and still choose her.
So I stayed where I was.
I watched Jay walk away.
And I let Keifer stand alone with the consequences of loving her too late.
Jay's POV
I slid into the passenger seat and stared out the window, but nothing outside actually reached me. The road stretched ahead, familiar streets passing by, yet it all felt distant—like I was watching someone else's life through glass.
My mind wouldn't stop.
Why can't we just have a perfect friendship?
Why does it always break right when it starts to feel okay?
Every single time we get close every time it feels like we're finally fixing things something comes crashing down. Like we're cursed to never reach the part where it stays good.
And now... Drew.
Drew didn't hurt me on purpose. I knew that. His situation was complicated in a way that didn't leave him many choices. He wasn't cruel. He wasn't malicious. He was trapped.
So why did it still feel like my chest was being torn open?
Why does understanding someone never make the pain lighter?
Why is it so hard to complete Section-E to complete us?
Why does fixing our friendship feel harder than watching it fall apart?
Maybe because breaking things is easier than saving them.
My thoughts shifted again, dragging me back to everything I didn't want to remember.
Keifer's eyes burning red.
The way his anger felt like it could swallow the room.
The sound of his hand hitting the car.
The fear that crawled into my bones and refused to leave.
Then Aries.
The way he held me last night.
The way he didn't ask questions.
The way he let me cry without making me feel weak.
Why can't every night be like that?
Why does safety always feel temporary?
Why do I always feel like this?
Why does everything feel so heavy all the time, like I'm carrying a weight no one else can see?
Every time things start to feel normal safe something breaks. Like happiness isn't allowed to stay with me. Like the universe watches me get comfortable just to remind me I shouldn't be.
Why can't Keifer and I just be okay?
Why does loving him hurt this much?
Why does loving him feel like walking on broken glass?
Why does trying to fix us always end the same way raised voices, broken promises, words that cut deeper than silence?
Because if I let go for even a second, I felt like I'd fall apart completely.
Maybe that's the truth.
Maybe I'm the problem.
I turned slightly and suddenly realized Ella was there.
"Oh..." The word slipped out automatically.
My body reacted before my heart did, stepping back, already preparing to move aside. It was instinct. Muscle memory. Make space. Don't cause trouble. Don't take what isn't yours.
I was already thinking, I'll sit in the back. I always do.
Even if I don't like Ella that much... she's my brother's girlfriend.
I don't matter more.
"No need."
Aries' voice cut through my thoughts.
Firm. Steady.
Protective.
I froze.
"Ella, today you sit in the back. Sit."
For a moment, my mind couldn't process it.
He's... choosing me?
My brother... is choosing me?
"But I will go—" I tried, because that's what I always do. I give way. I make myself smaller.
"No need. Just sit."
He didn't let me finish.
Ella slammed the door and moved to the back seat.
I knew she'd be angry.
And the guilt hit immediately.
My life can never be happy... and now I'm ruining his too.
I'm a burden.
I always have been.
I stayed where I was, shoulders tense, chest aching, afraid to even breathe too loudly. I didn't look at Aries, but I felt him solid, unmovable, like he was shielding me without making it obvious.
The car moved again.
I stared out the window, my reflection faint against the glass.
Why does happiness feel borrowed to me?
Like something I'm allowed to touch but never keep.
Maybe that's why it always leaves.
Maybe I don't deserve it.
The thought slipped in so easily it scared me.
Maybe I don't deserve happiness.
Maybe I don't deserve a life that doesn't hurt.
Maybe I don't deserve to live a life where love doesn't come with fear.
Maybe that's why everything good slips away the moment I start believing in it.
The car kept driving forward.
But inside me, everything felt stuck
looping, aching, breaking
over and over again.
The thoughts didn't stop.
They never did.
They just kept circling, tighter and darker, like they were trying to crush me from the inside.
What if I break people without meaning to?
I swallowed hard, my throat burning.
Maybe that's why things never work.
Maybe that's why friendships crack, relationships bleed, and love always turns painful.
Because of me.
I bring weight into rooms that should feel light.
I bring silence where laughter should be.
I bring fear where there should be comfort.
Maybe I'm not cursed.
Maybe I'm the curse.
The thought made my chest ache in a deep, dull way like something had hollowed me out and left only guilt behind.
Keifer gets angry.
Aries has to protect.
Angelo has to carry responsibility.
Ella gets pushed aside.
And me?
I just sit here, breathing, hurting people without even trying.
I pressed my forehead lightly against the window, the cool glass grounding me just enough to keep me from crying.
Why do people have to change because of me?
Why does my pain spill over into everyone else's life?
I don't want to be special.
I don't want to be protected.
I don't want to be chosen at the cost of someone else.
I just want to exist without being a problem.
Without being a burden.
Without making people angry... or scared... or tired.
Maybe that's why happiness feels borrowed.
Because it was never meant to stay with me.
Because the moment it does, it starts hurting others and then it has to go.
I tightened my arms around myself, suddenly aware of how small I felt inside my own skin.
If I die, would things be quieter?
Easier?
Lighter?
Would Keifer stop hurting?
Would Aries finally rest?
Would everyone breathe a little better?
The car kept moving, the world outside continuing like nothing was wrong.
But inside me, the same thought echoed again and again, sinking deeper each time—
Maybe I'm just a thorn in everyone's life.
The thoughts didn't stop.
They never did.
They just kept circling, tighter and darker, like they were trying to crush me from the inside.
What if I break people without meaning to?
I swallowed hard, my throat burning.
Maybe that's why things never work.
Maybe that's why friendships crack, relationships bleed, and love always turns painful.
Because of me.
I bring weight into rooms that should feel light.
I bring silence where laughter should be.
I bring fear where there should be comfort.
Maybe I'm not cursed.
Maybe I'm the curse.
The thought made my chest ache in a deep, dull way like something had hollowed me out and left only guilt behind.
Keifer gets angry.
Aries has to protect.
Angelo has to carry responsibility.
Ella gets pushed aside.
And me?
I just sit here, breathing, hurting people without even trying.
If I die, would things be quieter?
Easier?
Lighter?
Would Keifer stop hurting?
Would Aries finally rest?
Would everyone breathe a little better?
Suddenly, I felt the car slow down.
The motion pulled me out of my head just enough to notice where we were. I looked up—and there it was.
School.
My chest tightened.
I hadn't even realized how far we'd come.
I opened the door before I could think about it. Staying still felt dangerous, like if I paused for even a second, everything inside me would spill out. I stepped out and started walking.
That's when I saw him.
Keifer.
He was leaning against his car a few spaces away, like his body didn't have the strength to hold itself up anymore.
He looked... destroyed.
His eyes were bloodshot red and hollow, like sleep hadn't touched him at all. Like even if he closed his eyes, his mind wouldn't let him rest. His hair was a mess, clothes wrinkled, shoulders stiff with something that looked too much like desperation.
And the worst part?
I knew.
I knew that look.
That was because of me.
The guilt hit so hard it almost stopped me in my tracks.
He straightened the moment he saw me.
"Jay."
I kept walking.
"Jayy, please listen to me."
My hands clenched into fists at my sides.
"I'm sorry, Jay."
My chest burned.
"Jay, please."
His voice cracked on the last word.
If I stopped
If I turned
If I looked at him for even a second
I would break.
I knew it.
I would run back to him, or scream at him, or collapse right there in the parking lot where everyone could see how weak I really was. I didn't trust myself to survive that.
So I ignored him.
Not because I didn't care.
But because I cared too much.
I walked straight past him, eyes fixed ahead, pretending I couldn't hear my name being torn out of his throat. Each step felt heavier than the last, like I was walking away from something I loved while dragging guilt behind me.
I didn't look back.
I couldn't.
The hallway buzzed with noise, lockers slamming, voices overlapping—but it all sounded distant, muffled, like I was underwater. My legs moved on instinct alone, carrying me to Section E.
I pushed the door open.
And the room went quiet.
Not completely but enough.
Eyes turned.
Whispers paused.
Because I didn't go to my usual seat.
I walked straight to Drew.
And sat down beside him.
Section E didn't just notice they froze.
Ci-N stopped mid-sentence, his mouth still slightly open. David's pen slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a soft clatter that sounded way too loud in the sudden quiet. Felix leaned back in his chair slowly, eyes narrowed like he was trying to decide if this was real or some kind of prank.
Calix blinked. Once. Twice.
Mayo straight-up turned around in his seat, staring at me like I'd just rewritten the rules of reality.
Denzel raised his eyebrows, gaze flicking from me to Drew and back again.
No one said anything.
But I could feel the questions.
Since when?
Why Drew?
What happened with Keifer?
Their eyes burned into my skin, heavy and curious and judging, even if none of them meant to be cruel. Section E had always been loud, chaotic, full of opinions but right now, it was silent in the most uncomfortable way.
Drew shifted beside me, clearly nervous. He glanced at me once, hesitant, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to speak. I didn't look at him. I couldn't. If I did, my expression might crack.
I kept my gaze on the desk.
My heart was still racing, still stuck back in the parking lot where Keifer's voice had chased me like a wound that wouldn't close.
I could almost feel his eyes on my back even now.