Chapter 16: Distraction and suffering

Kelvin's dream started in a blur, but it quickly became too real, like he was thrown into a different time and place.

He stood in the middle of a battlefield, the sky red with smoke and fire. His chest felt heavy as if something terrible was about to happen. Soldiers rushed past him, their shouts echoing in his ears. He wasn't just watching—it felt like he was there, living it.

Kelvin looked down and realized he was wearing robes from another era, the fabric soaked in blood. His own blood. His breath hitched as he touched his chest and felt the wound—deep and fatal. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold ground, the world around him spinning.

A familiar figure appeared in front of him—a man with a face both strange and familiar. His silver hair caught the light, and his eyes were filled with guilt and panic. The man called out to him, but Kelvin couldn't make out the words.

All he knew was that he was dying.

His vision blurred as everything faded into darkness.

Kelvin jolted awake, gasping for air. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst from his chest. Sweat drenched his shirt, and his eyes darted around the room, trying to ground himself back in reality.

He sat there for a moment, clutching his head, his breath ragged. The dream—no, the nightmare—felt too real. Like it wasn't just a dream but a memory he couldn't remember having.

His hands shook as he ran them through his hair.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself.

Kelvin froze, his breath catching in his throat. A chilling thought hit him like a punch to the gut. He wasn't supposed to have the nightmare— not if Felix was in the building.

His eyes widened as the realization sunk in. Felix wasn't there.

He glanced at the clock. It was well past midnight. Where the hell did Felix go?

Kelvin threw the blanket off and got out of bed, his mind racing. Felix rarely left the dorm late at night, and if he did, he always told someone.

A wave of worry crashed over him, stronger than he expected. His gut told him something was wrong.

He grabbed his phone and sent Felix a text: "Where are you?"

No response.

Kelvin cursed under his breath, pacing back and forth, his heart beating faster with every second of silence. Something wasn't right. He could feel it.

Kelvin's worry grew as he stared at the phone screen, watching the calls he sent through go unanswered. His hand shook slightly as he dialed again. This time, his frustration started to overtake the concern. Where the hell is Felix?

He pressed the call button again, his finger hovering over the screen, ready to end it if it went to voicemail. The phone rang, and he bit his lip, trying to hold back his mounting anxiety.

After the fourth call, he was starting to lose patience. But then, on the fifth try, the line finally picked up.

"Hello?" Felix's voice slurred through the phone, distant and hazy. The background noise was deafening—laughter, shouting, music pounding in the distance. He was at a club. Felix was clubbing.

Kelvin could hear the stumbles in his words. Felix was obviously drunk.

Kelvin hissed under his breath, clenching his jaw. "You're drunk. Again. What the hell, Felix?"

Felix mumbled something unintelligible, but the noise in the background only grew louder. It was clear that Felix didn't care much about the call or even about his own state.

Kelvin's worry was replaced by irritation. This was typical, wasn't it? Felix always found a way to push limits, get himself into trouble, and leave Kelvin to pick up the pieces.

Kelvin slammed his phone down on the bedside table. "Whatever."

He muttered to himself, crawling back under the covers and trying to shut out the noise, even though it was just his mind racing, echoing the party sounds. If Felix wanted to keep misbehaving, he'd have to do it without Kelvin worrying anymore. He wasn't going to lose sleep over it.

Felix couldn't shake the thoughts of Kelvin from his mind. No matter how much he drank, the worry, the confusion—it wouldn't leave him. His head spun, but the nagging feeling that Kelvin was messing with him, messing with his head, just kept growing stronger. It was like a puzzle he couldn't piece together, and the more he tried, the more frustrated he became.

He wasn't some lightweight. Felix could handle his alcohol, but tonight, it felt like it was working against him. He could still hear the voice of Kelvin in his head—the worry, the frustration. But it's none of his business, Felix told himself. We're not anything but colleagues. Nothing's happening between us.

The moment Felix thought he had convinced himself, a figure approached him, flashing a smile that felt a little too eager for Felix's taste. The guy wasn't exactly bad-looking, but Felix wasn't in the mood for flirting. Still, he couldn't bring himself to shut him down completely, so he gave a polite smile, told him his name, and kept the conversation light. He needed a distraction.

He didn't bother to take a good look at the stranger's face.

The drinks kept coming, and soon enough, Felix didn't care much about who was talking to him anymore. But then, the guy leaned in closer, his voice low and persuasive. "Come with me," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Felix hesitated for a second, but the alcohol in his system and the chaos in his mind urged him forward.

He followed the stranger down a quiet hallway, the music from the club muffling as they moved deeper into the building. It was the kind of place that promised nothing but temporary satisfaction, and Felix—lost in his thoughts, needing something to escape—decided to play along.

Before he knew it, their lips were on each other. It wasn't the first time he'd kissed a stranger, but this time, something felt different. He tried to focus on the moment, tried to make it about the guy in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to Kelvin. That damn call. Those damn feelings he couldn't ignore.

Felix knew he was only doing this to push those feelings away. It didn't mean anything, not really. Just a distraction, nothing more.

But deep down, he knew he was only running from the truth.

As the make-out session deepened, the stranger's hands began to wander, and the energy between them shifted.

"Why don't we take this somewhere more private?" The guy suggested, his voice low, almost coaxing. "I have an apartment nearby. We can keep going there."

Felix didn't think twice. He nodded, too caught up in the alcohol, the thoughts of Kelvin, and the chaotic emotions swirling in his head. The stranger smiled, a glimmer of victory in his eyes as he took Felix's hand and led him out of the club.

The walk to the apartment felt like a blur. Felix was still trying to shut out the nagging feeling in his chest, but the more he tried to ignore it, the stronger it got. They finally arrived, and the stranger wasted no time, pulling Felix inside.

And so, they gave in to the night, a fleeting moment of release. It wasn't about connection or even enjoyment, really. It was just a distraction. A way to forget the weight of everything.

When it was over, Felix didn't linger. He gathered his things and left, not sparing a second glance. It wasn't meaningful. It wasn't even real. Just a moment he could push into the back of his mind and pretend never happened.

But no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the image of Kelvin's worried expression, the way his voice had sounded on that call, lingered. And for the first time that night, Felix couldn't shake the feeling that he was running from something far bigger than just a single night.