Narrator's P.O.V.
Alcohol had become Kael's only refuge against the storm raging in his own mind. With every glass he knocked back, the edges of reality blurred a little more, numbing the sharp pain that had settled in his chest since his accidental "discovery" in the darkroom. He didn't care if he ended up getting drunk, and perhaps, deep down, that was his intention. It would be his escape.
The music played loudly, many people were chatting excitedly, but he was practically paying no attention to any of the sounds around him. Several times his mind transported him to a world of his own, where he noticed only his own existence. Kael was merely existing, trying his hardest to survive until the end of that night, which had practically become hellish.
But, as with everything that is already bad, it could always get worse...
Kael approached a small group of people upon spotting some of his friends among them. Pabllyo, Verônica, and Dani, one of his closest friends, were talking amongst themselves. When Ávila approached the trio, the expressions on their faces ranged from concern to disbelief. The man didn't understand what those expressions meant, growing confused by his friends' unexpected reaction.
"Man, what happened upstairs? What did you do?" Pabllyo asked suddenly, crossing his arms, his eyes assessing Kael's state.
Kael frowned, his alcohol-clouded mind struggling to process the question. He blinked a few times, straightening his posture as he took another sip from his cup.
"What did I do?" Kael shot back, genuinely lost. "I didn't do anything. What are you talking about?"
The girls exchanged looks, and Dani let out a heavy sigh before taking a step forward, determined to drop the bomb all at once.
"Ka, what is this story about you trying to break down the darkroom door because Yuri was in there?" Dani asked, her voice raised, trying to project over the music so her friend could hear her.
"What do you mean?" Kael grew absurdly confused.
"People are saying that you went up to the second floor and tried to bust the darkroom door open because you found out Yuri was in there with Caio, man."
"What?!" he asked, his eyes wide.
"That's what they're saying," Verônica added, gesturing with her hands. "They said you found out Yuri was in there screwing Caio, that you freaked out, tried to break the door down to invade it and drag them both out by force, and that they had to drag you back downstairs."
Silence swallowed Ávila's mind, even amidst the deafening noise of the venue. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He didn't understand where they had gotten that from, considering he hadn't even said a word when the incident occurred. He hadn't shown any reaction, and now, magically, he was being accused of making a scene?!
"I'm finding this out right now, same as you," Kael said, his voice thickening, sobriety taking over him again through a pure injection of adrenaline. "That didn't happen. I didn't even get close to that door again."
An incandescent fury began to burn in his veins. The rumor didn't just wound his pride; it destroyed all the self-control Kael was fighting so hard to maintain. He wouldn't be the crazy ex. He wouldn't be the joke of the party.
The man's first instinct was to find the person responsible. He left his friends behind without another word and cut through the crowd. His eyes scanned the hall until they found the killer butcher costume. Yuri was near one of the pillars, a cup in hand, talking to some people.
Kael marched right up to him. The fury in his eyes was evident beneath the dark incubus makeup, but his posture remained unshaken. He wouldn't yell. He wouldn't put on the show the party was imagining.
"Did you open your mouth to talk shit about me to anyone?" the man fired off, his tone harsh, cold as ice, cutting off the conversation Yuri was having.
Yuri turned his face to look at him, stopping with his cup halfway to his mouth. The younger boy's expression was one of pure confusion. He frowned, his eyes wavering.
"What? What are you talking about, Kael?" Yuri countered, visibly not understanding the context of that aggressive approach.
Kael analyzed him for three long seconds. Ávila knew Farias better than anyone. He knew his ex's cynical face and his guilty face. And, surprisingly, what he saw now was just ignorance. Yuri really had no idea about the rumor regarding them in the darkroom.
That being the case, if the pseudo-redhead hadn't started the rumor, there were only two others who were present the moment Ávila walked into that place: Lucas and Caio. Kael's chest rose and fell heavily, but he forced his own body to relax. He wouldn't provide ammunition to make the rumor real.
"Nothing. Forget it," he declared, extending his open hand toward Yuri, keeping his gaze firm. "Give me my phone."
Yuri hesitated for a second—the atmosphere between the two was dense and extremely uncomfortable—but soon reached into his clothes and handed Kael's device over without asking questions. Farias didn't seem entirely thrilled to be in the older man's presence either, so it was better this way.
"Thanks," the brunette murmured, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.
He turned his back and walked away. The interaction had lasted mere seconds. There were no insults, no yelling, no brawl. They just repelled each other like two magnets with identical poles. But the anger inside Kael was still there, alive, pulsing, fed by the injustice of that night, waiting only for the right spark to finally explode...
And, from that moment on, the night completely lost its shape.
The amount of alcohol Kael started consuming began to exceed "acceptable" limits. His goal was no longer to enjoy the party, but rather to try and silence the desperate chaos that his own thoughts had become. His discovery, the rumor... all of it infused so much fury into his chest that it activated Kael's "survival mode," something rare in someone as controlled as him. He kissed one, two, three guests, until he ended up losing count. He wasn't doing it out of desire, lust, or interest, but to prove to himself that it didn't matter if Yuri didn't want him, when he himself could have anyone he pleased.
However, it was a hollow and cold attempt at something not even he knew for sure was worth it. In every kiss, Kael felt a great and absolute nothing. Simply nothing. He didn't even bother memorizing their faces, and he certainly wouldn't remember them the next day. But it didn't matter to him. He just continued to drink and dance, absorbed in his automatic actions.
But the illusion of control the man maintained crumbled quickly...
From the middle of the dance floor, the neon lights flashed just in time to illuminate, near the stairs, Yuri and Caio walking down side by side. They were together. And smiling at each other. Kael stopped dancing. The image hit him like a punch, making his stomach churn almost immediately. The hatred that rose in his throat was so intense he felt his blood boil beneath his skin. The air in there became unbreathable. Without offering an explanation to anyone, Kael cut through the crowd toward the event's exit at a fast pace, desperately needing to leave the party. He needed to breathe!
The street was quiet. A freezing wind blew, a fine, cold drizzle contrasting with the hot sweat on his skin. Kael walked to a corner of the sidewalk and threw his head back, pulling the air in forcefully. His thoughts began to fade. Every train of thought he tried to form disappeared like a cloud of smoke dissolving, without him being able to control it. But, right behind him, the sound of hurried footsteps revealed the presence of Dani, who had followed him outside without his knowledge, a fact that forced him to stay lucid for at least a few more seconds.
"Ka, what happened now?" Dani asked, her voice gentle, placing a hand kindly on his shoulder.
The touch was the limit. Kael looked at his friend's worried face, and the entire dam he had been holding back for hours collapsed.
The man grabbed the strap of the bag he was carrying and, with a guttural scream that felt like it had been stuck in his throat for hours, hurled it against the asphalt. With full force. The dry, plastic sound of the impact echoed through the empty street. Kael picked the bag up again and slammed it against the ground a second, third, fourth time. It didn't matter what was inside. Cell phone, makeup, cards. He smashed it until the material tore and snapped, transferring all his pent-up anger, all his helpless frustration against that object.
He took it out on his own bag because there was no alternative other than destroying himself!
Dani took a step back. She was shocked, especially since she had never seen her friend like that, but she didn't intervene. She let him consume himself in his own hell. She knew that someone like Ávila needed to burn until there was nothing left, and only then would he come back to his senses.
When Kael's arms finally grew heavy and his breath failed him, he dropped the crushed bag on the sidewalk. The "incubus's" chest rose and fell violently. He ran a trembling hand over his sweaty face, his makeup smudged, and took a deep breath, pulling the air of the world into his lungs. Kael sat slowly on the curb, staring at the street.
A deadly silence settled between the two. And then, in an absurdly broken movement, Kael's features softened. He looked at Dani... and smiled.
It wasn't a smile of joy. It was the perfect, aligned, and impenetrable smile of someone who had just put their mask back in place.
His friend stared into his eyes. The contrast between the violence of his action seconds ago and that rehearsed smile now broke the girl's heart.
"Ka..." Dani murmured, her face heavy with pity. "You don't need to pretend for me."
Kael's smile didn't waver. He gathered the wreckage of his bag from the ground and stood up with flawless posture.
"Yes, I do," Kael replied, his voice incredibly calm, though firm and icy. "I need to pretend. Because he's not going to see me cry. He's not going to shake me again, Dani. I'm done crying. And there will be no more scenes."
He straightened his clothes and adjusted the costume on his body. The moment of catharsis was over. The vulnerability had been crushed right there, along with the remains of his bag on the asphalt.
"Let's go upstairs. The party isn't over yet." He decreed, turning his back to the street and marching back toward the light of the venue's entrance hallway...
(...)
Kael's return to the dance floor was marked by an almost robotic determination. His eyes didn't search for Yuri, and his smile didn't waver when he greeted acquaintances. The armor seemed impenetrable again, and that was exactly what he needed in order not to crumble. He would endure until the end of that night at any cost.
It was an event he had looked forward to for months; he wouldn't let some idiot like Yuri take that moment away from him!
Seeking to prove to himself that he could ignore the whole circus that had been set up around him, Ávila struck up a conversation with one of the guests. The momentary chemistry served its purpose: he needed anything that would distract him from his own thoughts. Without thinking too much, he and the boy headed to the upper floor, where the red light and dense shadows of the darkroom promised the anonymity and "fun" that Ávila so desperately craved.
They crossed the door. The room was relatively empty. The boy turned off the darkroom light, enveloping them in almost total darkness. Kael pushed the other guy against the wall, trying to surrender to the moment, genuinely just wanting to enjoy the rest of his night and forget everything outside. Quickly, the kiss intensified, becoming needy. Because they were in a dark room, there was no need for modesty whatsoever. Soon, the guy's hands started moving down, down, until they reached where he wanted. Ávila gasped at the pleasure he felt, letting himself immerse in the moment...
However, the universe—and Yuri's ego—seemed to disagree with Kael's plans.
A few short minutes after the older man had entered, the darkroom door was opened again, allowing the light from outside to bleed in.
Yuri walked in.
Kael froze mid-kiss, feeling every muscle in his neck lock up. But the worst part wasn't just the younger boy's arrival; it was the presence of who was with him. Farias wasn't with Caio, nor with any other stranger. Yuri was pulling along by the hand an old former hookup of Kael's, someone with whom Ávila already had a long history. The pseudo-redhead knew that very well because it had only been a few days since Kael was with him and Yuri in the same room, which had led Farias to find out about his past involvement with that guy.
The provocation was surgical.
Yuri saw Kael. Kael saw Yuri. The darkroom seemed to shrink in size, making each other's presence suffocating.
If there was any doubt about Farias's intention, it was annihilated in the very next second. Yuri pushed Kael's former hookup almost right next to them and began kissing him fiercely. The tense silence in the room was cut by the sound of those two's wet kiss.
Kael couldn't go back to kissing the guy in front of him. His chest tightened, and his breath hitched in his throat, forcing him to turn his face to observe the scene. Inevitably, his eyes were glued to Yuri.
And that was when the last thread of sanity holding Kael's armor intact was snapped.
Yuri didn't close his eyes. Amidst the ravenous kiss he shared with the other, Farias lifted his eyelids, and, in the dim light of that room, his eyes met Kael's. He stared at him. Fixedly. The kiss remained mechanical and hungry against the other boy's lips, but Yuri's gaze was a heat-seeking missile aimed straight at the older man's pride. There was a cynical smile hidden in his eyes; the cruel satisfaction of someone who knew exactly where to stick the knife to make it hurt the most.
That wasn't flirting. That wasn't party debauchery. That was deliberate torture.
Kael felt his own heart stop, annihilated by the sheer scale of the hatred and silent humiliation that image caused. He couldn't withstand one more second beneath that sadistic gaze.
He shoved the guy he was with slightly to the side, without apologizing, and marched toward the exit with heavy steps. Blood bubbled in his ears from so much anger. Kael grabbed the doorknob with such force that his knuckles turned white. And as he passed through the doorframe, without bothering to hold the door, he pulled it with brutality.
The dry, dull thud the heavy wood made as it closed—slamming into the backs of Yuri and his companion who were glued to the entrance—was the only proof of his fury. Kael didn't care. In fact, he wished the door had slammed harder.
As soon as he reached the empty hallway, Kael took a deep breath, trying to control his own trembling. The anger was so immense that his vision actually blurred. Once again, he found himself almost blinded by hatred, his mind was so chaotic that he couldn't think straight. But pride didn't let him give in. He didn't run downstairs. He didn't go cry or complain to his friends. He didn't put on the jealous show that Farias so desperately wanted.
With clenched teeth and a locked jaw, Kael just walked back down to the dance floor. He found his friends in the middle of the smoke, forced a rigid smile on his lips, and asked for another drink. He would force himself to enjoy that night. Even if it meant tearing out every piece of himself that still cared about Yuri...