F I V E: Fractured connections

Setting:

A trendy restaurant in the upscale part of town, early evening. The atmosphere is tense, thick with unspoken emotions.

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Tega and Rachel

Tega and Rachel sit across from each other at a cozy table, the remnants of their meal between them. The air between them feels like a fragile thread, ready to snap.

Rachel (pausing, her voice tight): "Can we talk?"

Tega leans forward slightly, concerned, his expression guarded. He feels the shift in her tone, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.

Tega (quietly): "Sure, what's up? Is something wrong?"

Rachel (exhaling slowly, her voice trembling): "I've been thinking about us... and I don't think this is working anymore. It's not what it used to be."

Tega's brow furrows, defensiveness rising as his chest tightens.

Tega (his voice laced with tension): "Not working? What does that even mean?"

Rachel (looking away, struggling to maintain her composure): "You're distant, Tega. I feel like I'm alone when I'm with you. It's like you're here, but you're not present. I don't feel... like you even care."

Tega's jaw clenches as her words hit harder than he expects. A bitter laugh escapes him—his defense mechanism against the discomfort.

Tega (coldly): "So you're breaking up with me? Just like that?"

Rachel (soft but firm): "Yes. I think it's for the best. We've drifted too far apart, and I don't think we can fix this."

Tega grips his glass, his knuckles whitening as frustration and hurt bubble beneath the surface.

Tega (bitterly): "Right. Friends, then? Finish the meal, pretend everything's fine, and go our separate ways?"

Rachel stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. Her eyes are hard now, all hesitation gone.

Rachel (with finality): "I can't do this anymore. Goodbye, Tega. I hope you figure out whatever it is you're looking for."

Tega watches her leave, his heart pounding in his chest. The room around him dulls, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses fading into a hollow hum. He stares at the melting ice in his glass, watching condensation drip down his fingers. He feels like he's sinking into himself.

Distant. Not present. Maybe she's right.

Tega leans back, his thoughts tangled. He mutters under his breath:

Tega (to himself): "Guess I'm officially single now."

But underneath the bitterness, a hollow ache remains—an echo of something lost long before this moment.

---

Transition to Stella

Still caught in his thoughts, Tega's mind drifts to someone else—Stella. She had a calmness that felt impenetrable, something steady amidst the chaos. Maybe that's why he thought of her now. He needed that stability, that unwavering focus she always seemed to carry.

---

Stella's POV

On the rooftop of her apartment, the world felt lighter. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers as Stella rolled out her yoga mat. She stretched into her routine, her body moving with practiced grace, her mind finding peace in the rhythm of her movements.

Stella (to herself): "He hasn't called today."

The thought was brief, passing through her like a flicker of light before she dismissed it. She refocused on her breathing, inhaling deeply, allowing the calm to settle over her. But the quiet was interrupted by the buzz of her phone.

Stella glanced at the screen—Tega's name flashed across it.

Stella (sighing): "Of course it's him."

She swiped the call away, determined to focus on her routine. But as soon as the phone went silent, it buzzed again. And again.

Annoyance crept into her as she silenced the phone and continued her stretches. But the distractions weren't done. The home phone blared from across the room, shattering her fragile calm.

Stella (groaning, answering the phone): "WHAT?"

Tega (unfazed by her irritation): "Finally! You're hard to get a hold of."

Stella (exasperated): "I'm in the middle of something, Tega."

Tega (teasing): "Let me guess—yoga, right? Anyway, I've been trying to call you because I've got some news."

Stella rubbed her temples, torn between annoyance and curiosity.

Stella (sighing): "Alright, what's the big news?"

Tega (suddenly serious): "I need you to come pick me up. I'm at the hospital."

Stella's irritation gave way to concern.

Stella (sitting up straight): "Wait—what? What happened?"

Tega (sighing heavily): "I tested positive for drugs. Long story, but I need you to get me before this turns into something bigger."

Stella blinked, her mind racing.

Stella (disbelieving): "How do you test positive for drugs you didn't take?"

Tega (groaning): "Reagan's friend was doing stuff at the house. I must've inhaled something. Look, can we not do this over the phone?"

Stella hesitated. This was a side of Tega she didn't often see—the vulnerable, uncertain side.

Stella (reluctantly): "Alright, I'll come get you. But you owe me an explanation."

Tega (grateful but hiding it): "Thanks. St. Catherine's Hospital. And please don't take forever."

Stella rolled her eyes but couldn't shake the worry settling in her chest.

Stella (half-smiling): "Yeah, yeah. Don't freak out. I'll be there."

---

Back to Tega's POV

As Tega hung up, he leaned back against the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. His vision blurred, colors shifting as his pulse quickened. A surge of anxiety tightened his chest, the familiar weight pressing down.

What if this gets out?

He shut his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, but the panic clawed at him. His hands trembled as he fumbled for the nurse's call button. The room around him swirled, distorted—too bright, too loud, too much.

Tega (whispering to himself): "Not again..."

He pressed his hands to his face, fighting the overwhelming sensation of losing control. The walls seemed to close in as his pulse pounded in his ears.

---

Stella's POV

Stella had been driving around Tokyo for over an hour. She sighed, gripping the wheel as yet another stop interrupted her journey. Every halt, every delay felt like a test of her already thinning patience. Finally, when she arrived at the designated meeting spot, Tega was nowhere to be seen. She dialed his number, half-expecting an apology, but instead was met with his usual, casual tone.

"I got bored, so I moved somewhere else," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Her jaw tightened. She had a long drive ahead of her again, but she bit her tongue. Don't explode, not yet. By the time she spotted him on the curb, her frustration was barely contained.

"Get in," she said, the clipped tone of her voice betraying her efforts to stay calm.

Tega arched an eyebrow. "Wow. What crawled up your ass?"

"Don't start with me," she warned, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel. "Just get in before I lose the last shred of patience I have left."

Tega smirked but didn't push further. "Alright, alright, no need to get all worked up. If you didn't want to come, you could've just said so."

"I didn't want to," Stella shot back, her words sharper than she intended. "But if I didn't, I'd be branded as the bitch who couldn't be bothered to help."

Tega chuckled, though it only deepened the tension. "Geez, what's with the attitude today?"

Stella clenched her jaw, her voice low and controlled. "It's been a long week, Tega. And this morning hasn't exactly been a walk in the park. We've got an hour before school starts. I don't have time for this."

Without another word, Tega slid into the passenger seat. The silence that followed was heavy, but it wasn't the comfortable kind. Stella kept her eyes on the road, refusing to let her irritation boil over. But Tega, never one for quiet, broke the silence first.

"So, how was your week?" he asked, his tone annoyingly light.

Stella shot him a sideways glance. "Tega, don't."

"Don't what? I'm just making conversation."

"No, you're not. You're making meaningless small talk. Just...stop."

Tega leaned back, sighing. "Fine. No small talk. But for what it's worth, thanks for coming."

Stella raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For picking me up," Tega muttered, looking out the window. "I know you didn't have to."

Stella softened for a moment, but her sharpness returned just as quickly. "Why did you even ask me? What, you couldn't think of anyone else?"

Tega shifted uncomfortably. "No, I guess not. I trust you."

She glanced at him, caught off guard by the admission. Trust was a rare thing from Tega. But before she could respond, she noticed something strange.

"Wait a minute," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Are you...reading from flashcards?"

Tega fumbled with the cards in his hands, clearly caught. Stella burst into laughter.

"What? Why are you laughing?" he asked, trying to salvage his dignity.

"Because," Stella said between laughs, "I don't know what's worse—the fact that you needed flashcards to say something genuine or the fact that you're actually using them."

Tega blushed, looking genuinely flustered. Stella's laughter, though, faded as quickly as it had started. Her mood darkened again.

"Actually, get out of my car."

Tega blinked. "Wait...what?"

"I'm serious. Get out."

Her voice was steady, her expression unreadable. Tega hesitated, searching her eyes for any sign of humor. Finding none, he reluctantly opened the door and stepped out. Stella began to drive away, her heart racing. She wasn't sure why she'd done it, but she needed space—needed to breathe.

Suddenly, she heard his voice. "Stella, wait!"

She glanced at the speedometer—60 km/h. How the hell was he keeping up? She slowed the car, her knuckles white as they gripped the wheel. Tega's breath was visible in the cold morning air as he finally caught up to her window.

"You said your doctor told you not to overexert yourself," Stella said slowly, rolling down the window. "Much less...run like that. What the hell is going on?"

Tega leaned against the car, catching his breath. "Alright, alright... I'll tell you. Just...let me in. It's freezing out here."

"No," she said firmly. "If we're going to talk, we're doing it on my terms. Start talking."

Tega sighed, his breath forming clouds in the cold. "I didn't need you to come get me. I just... I didn't want to be alone."

Stella's frustration wavered, replaced by confusion. "Then why didn't you just say that?"

Tega shrugged, looking away. "It's easier to joke than to admit that... I need someone."

The vulnerability in his voice stunned her. Tega never admitted things like that. Ever.

She sighed. "Fine. Get in."

As he climbed into the car, the silence returned, but this time it was softer. Something had shifted. Stella glanced at him from the corner of her eye, unsure of what to say next. But her instincts told her there was more—something he wasn't telling her.

"Tega," she said quietly. "What's really going on?"

He hesitated, then finally spoke. "I've been...on medication. Sertraline and venlafaxine. For...PTSD."

Stella felt her heart skip a beat. "What?"

Tega nodded, avoiding her gaze. "I messed up the dosage. I overdosed a few days ago. That's why I had a panic attack."

Stella gripped the wheel tighter, a wave of concern washing over her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to see me like this," Tega admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "For some reason, I feel like I have to be better around you. Is that...weird?"

Stella's breath caught in her throat. "No... It's not weird."

"Then why are you always so hard on me?" Tega asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Because," Stella said, her voice shaking slightly, "I don't get why you're such an asshole to me. If you care, why act like you don't?"

Tega sighed, rubbing his temples. "I don't know. I've been this way for so long, I don't know how to be anything else."

"Well, I'm not asking for a miracle," Stella replied, her tone softening. "Just...tone it down a notch."

Tega chuckled softly. "Alright. I'll work on being less of an ass."

Before Stella could respond, Tega's body suddenly went rigid, his eyes wide with panic. Without warning, he collapsed.

"Tega!" Stella screamed, rushing out of the car.

She knelt beside him, her heart pounding in her chest. He lay still, unconscious, his breathing shallow. Stella fumbled for her phone, dialing emergency services with trembling hands.

She had no idea what was wrong, but one thing was certain: whatever this was, it was serious.

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