Unsettling Silence

The days following Milo's departure were tense for Victor in ways he didn't anticipate. It had been a simple few days off, but Milo's silence weighed heavily on him. Victor tried to keep himself busy with work, but every time he picked up his phone, his thumb hovered over Milo's name.

He'd already sent a few messages:

Victor: Hey, hope you got home safely. Let me know how it's going.

Victor: How's the hometown? Miss the studio yet?

Victor: Let me know when you're back.

But there was no response. He tried calling, but each time, he was met with the same frustrating automated voice message: "The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable."

Victor sighed in frustration, tossing his phone onto the couch. This silence, this absence—it was affecting him in a way he hadn't anticipated. He'd gone from texting Milo to simply staring at his phone, waiting for any sign of life on the other end. Each unanswered message felt like a slight ache in his chest, a pang he couldn't quite explain.

It was more than just concern over a friend's sudden departure. It was the feeling of something missing, a void in his routine that Milo had unknowingly filled. The studio felt emptier without Milo's presence, without his quiet laughter or the way he seemed to lose himself in his art. Victor found himself wandering to the studio more often, each time expecting to see Milo hunched over a canvas, only to find the space silent and still.

He tried to brush it off, telling himself he was being ridiculous. But the more he tried to ignore it, the more it gnawed at him, an unsettling feeling that seemed to grow with each passing day.

"Why didn't he tell me?" he muttered to himself one evening, sitting alone in his room. It was a question that lingered, simmering just beneath the surface. They'd shared so many moments together—surely, Milo could have at least mentioned his trip. The fact that he hadn't… It stung.

Victor tried calling one last time, holding his breath as the line rang out, only to go straight to voicemail again. Frustrated, he ended the call and stared at his phone in silence, a mixture of worry and something deeper swirling in his mind.

Without thinking, he opened his messaging app and began typing, his fingers moving before he could second-guess himself.

Victor: I know you're probably busy, but at least let me know you're okay. I… miss you around here, alright?

He hit send before he could take it back, his chest tightening slightly at the admission. He wasn't even sure what he meant by it. All he knew was that Milo's absence was affecting him in ways he hadn't anticipated, and the frustration was beginning to boil over.

Victor sighed and put his phone aside, lying back on the couch and staring at the ceiling. His thoughts kept drifting back to Milo, to the easy conversations they'd shared, to the way he'd smile when he was lost in his work. It was strange, unsettling even, how much he missed him. But now, there was nothing he could do except wait—wait for a reply, a call, anything to break the silence.

And as the days continued to stretch on, Victor found himself coming face-to-face with feelings he hadn't fully understood. Feelings he wasn't ready to admit—yet.