Chapter 3. A Fallen World

Author's note: I've changed Ronan Vercetti's name into Asher Blake because I thought it'd fit his character better. Oh and, The title of this book is no longer Everlasting Fragments of Memories Bloom Towards the End. It's Fleeting Fragments of Memories Bloom Towards the End.

Clayton and Ethan weaved through the crowd— rushing their way to the cafeteria as their hair whipping back as they sprinted toward the cafeteria. Dammit, we might be too late... Clayton muttered, glancing at the clock above the lockers as they sprint.

"Wrong stairs! Take the other one!" teachers who saw them shouted, their voice sharp as a whistle. But the two boys ignored them, leaving them in their dust— their laughter trailing behind them like a rebellious anthem.

"Man, this feels great! It's been too long since we've done something stupid, right, Clayton?" Ethan yelled, his grin stretching ear to ear.

And just for this time, Clayton also agreed. "Yeah!" he shouted back, their laughter mingling as they burst into the cafeteria.

However, the cafeteria was packed, shoulder to shoulder with students clamoring for their lunch. Dammit, we're late! 

"Looks like we're late Clayton." Ethan said with a steady voice as he glared at the golden clock in the middle of the cafeteria. 

12:30 PM. 

The lunch break was at 12:20 PM— during those 10 minutes, the cafeteria got packed!

"Ethan and Clayton," a deep voice called out. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, revealing the principal standing with his arms crossed. His stern gaze bore down on them. "Biggest slackers of the school, causing trouble again. If this keeps up, you'll find yourselves repeating senior year."

Clayton sighed, bowing slightly. "We're sorry, sir." He nudged Ethan with his foot, signaling him to do the same.

Ethan reluctantly followed Clayton, but his lack of sincerity was seen though his grin masked under his hair only by Clayton. 

They knew what's going to happen next, all too well. Detentions, lectures, threats—it was routine. The teachers' words rolled off them. And the whole school knew it. All eyes were on them, waiting for the next scenario.

As they left the cafeteria, Ethan let out a low whistle. "Phew! Getting called out by the principal on the first day? That's a new record, even for us!" He puffed out his chest proudly.

Clayton chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You know, if you hadn't been knocked out during class, we wouldn't have had to run in the first place."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Me? You're the one daydreaming about Evelyn and missing all the important stuff."

Clayton's smile faltered. He sighed heavily. "Mhm. Maybe I did get us into this mess." He glanced at Ethan and grinned. "But it's not like we care, right?"

Ethan smirked, his laughter bubbling up again. "Right!"

As the boys were walking back to class, a voice called out, no... a voice screamed out. "Ethan, Clayton, you morons!"

Ethan and Clayton immediately froze right on their spot, their hearts sinking. Ethan leaned closer, muttering "Are we in trouble again?"

Clayton didn't need to guess. He knew exactly whose voice it was. That voice could only belong to Charlotte Mae—the teacher who had been Clayton's mentor since the early days.

Clayton carefully turned around, his most charming (or so he thought) smile plastered across his face. "Miss Mae! What a lovely surprise! You look fantastic today!"

For a brief second, Miss Mae seemed caught off guard, her eyes narrowing as if weighing whether to accept the compliment. Then her expression twisted into a scowl.

"Yeah, like you'd care!" she snapped, closing the distance between them with a speed that made Ethan flinch.

You morons getting me dragged out of the staff room on the first day of school?! she hissed, her voice dripping with exasperation.

Ethan, always the instigator, chuckled nervously. "Technically speaking, beating your students is against the—ow!" His quip was cut off by a sharp jab to his side.

Miss Mae eventually let go of their collar and began her tirade, pacing like a general before a pair of unruly recruits.

"I knew you two were a pain in the a**, but this just unbelievable!" Her hand shot out, flicking Ethan on the forehead. 

Clayton rubbed the back of his neck, wincing as he exchanged a glance with Ethan, who was trying to look apologetic.

"Oh, you'll be sorry?" she shot back, crossing her arms. "You two are going to clean up your act this year if it's the last thing I do. Otherwise, I'll make sure senior year isn't your last year here. Got it?"

"Yes Miss!" Ethan and Clayton chimed in unison, though the smirks tugging at the corners of their mouths suggested otherwise.

Miss Mae sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Why do I even try with you two?"

As she turned to leave, Ethan leaned toward Clayton, whispering, "Think she'll ever give up on us?"

"Not a chance," Clayton replied, stifling a laugh.

And as Miss Mae disappeared down the hall, they both couldn't help but grin because they knew despite all the scolding, she cared. And that is why, they respected Miss Mae more than anyone—or at least Clayton did because he had doubts whether Ethan could understand these complex emotions. 

"You know, I am genuinely glad Miss Mae is our homeroom teacher." Ethan muttered, shifting his gaze downwards— precisely to his shoes as his expression became softer.

Clayton's eyes widened for a brief second before raising his gaze upwards instead of down— precisely looking at the plain white ceiling. 

So, you are capable of such things... That makes me wonder, are you capable of seeing what I'm seeing? A fallen world— a world where nothing is genuine, a world comprised of 'fakes'...

Clayton clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms as he stared blankly ahead, lost in thought as memories of his father swirled in his mind.

Samuel Moressey once had a decent life— he had a place he could call 'home' and most importantly he had someone supporting him throughout his life, his lover— Marianne Moressey. However, everything slowly began to go downhill as his company faltering, layoffs looming over every employee like a storm cloud. One by one, the Moressey family's savings drained away, and Samuel found himself hunting for jobs day and night, determined to keep them afloat.

"Hey, Samuel!" a neighbor called one evening as Samuel trudged home after yet another failed day. "I heard there's a company looking for someone who knows Korean. It's called Premium Note."

Samuel's tired eyes lit up with hope, and he grasped the man's arm. "Thank you. Thank you so much! I'll check it out first thing tomorrow."

For the first time in weeks, Samuel felt a flicker of optimism. He hurried home instead of hunting for more jobs, eager to share the news with Marianne. He imagined her smile, the relief in her voice. But when he opened the door, the sight that greeted him turned his world to ash.

A pair of unfamiliar men's shoes sat neatly by the entryway.

"Marianne?" Samuel called out, his voice faltering. Then, a muffled sound—a groan—came from the bedroom.

Alarm surged through him as he dropped his briefcase and ran toward the sound.

The door to their bedroom was ajar, and what he saw inside froze him in place. Marianne was tangled in the sheets, her bare skin against another man's—a man Samuel recognized. Colt. His best friend.

Colt sat up, his face pale. "Sam, I swear—"

Samuel's chest tightened, his breathing uneven. He gripped the doorframe as if it were the only thing holding him upright. His gaze flicked from Marianne's terrified expression to Colt's panicked one, and then to the mess of sheets that betrayed them both.

"How… how could you?" Samuel's voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with disbelief.

"Samuel, please! I was lonely!" Marianne's voice cracked as she grabbed a robe. "You're always out, working or hunting for jobs. I… I just needed comfort, and Colt—"

"Comfort?" Samuel's voice rose, sharp and brittle. He stepped into the room, his hands shaking. "You call this comfort? Betraying me? With him?"

"Samuel, it wasn't planned!" Colt interjected, stepping forward. "It just… happened."

"Get out," Samuel said, his voice low but firm.

"Sam—" Marianne began, but Samuel cut her off, his voice cracking as he shouted, "Get the hell out of my house! Both of you!"

Marianne hesitated, reaching for him. "Please, Samuel, let me explain—"

"Explain?" Samuel raised his head to glare at the ceiling as he laughed bitterly, tears streaming down his face. "You don't get to justify this!"

She flinched but didn't argue further. Colt muttered something under his breath as they hurried to gather their clothes.

As they dressed, Samuel turned away, his shoulders slumping. His anger had drained, leaving only a hollow ache in its place. The sound of their footsteps echoed as they left the house, closing the door softly behind them.

A fallen world... Is this what I get for trying to provide for my family?

Silence filled the empty space. Then Samuel let out a broken sob, sinking to the floor amidst the shattered remnants of his life.

After a while, Marianne turned out to be pregnant. However, the baby was not Colt's, it was Samuel's baby. Colt and Marianne didn't want to raise a kid, they wanted to enjoy life as a couple without any responsibilities— and since the baby was Samuel's, they dumped it to him.

Samuel who had been living paycheck to paycheck, got cheated on, and now? The man who lost everything had to raise a kid. 

Such a cruel world, the good ones always end up suffering. 

However, Samuel had done everything he could for his son after Marianne left. Despite living paycheck to paycheck, he ensured Clayton had a normal childhood, shielding him from the harsh reality of their struggles. But time, disappointment, and grief wore him down as he grew older and incompetent. Samuel started drinking, drowning his pain in alcohol, and in doing so, he drifted away from Clayton.

The bond they once shared faded into silence. For Samuel, perhaps Clayton was a reminder of what he'd lost—a bittersweet tether to the life he couldn't reclaim. For Clayton, the man who once meant everything now felt like a stranger.

As a result, Clayton eventually learned the bitter truth about 'reality'.

Clayton learned that no matter where you go— this world is full of 'fakes'. Finding something genuine is as rare as winning the lottery now days, especially when it comes to love as his father was 'played' upon. 

Clayton exhaled sharply, his thoughts darkening.

That's not all, this world is compromised with filthy selfish bastards who won't hesitate to take one's life if necessary. Varies types of problems and crimes such as 'murder', 'famine' are still present around the globe. It's spread around the world like a deadly disease, to the point where the citizens are no different from the 'selfish' bastards.

Love is nothing more than a mere joke to them, lusting after the opposite gender. 

I believe love isn't just 'lusting' after the opposite gender. There's more to it, the time you spent with that person— sharing together, laughing together and becoming good friends. All those memories build up strong bond. However, I'm not saying appearance doesn't matter either, because it is what attracts our attention and the character keeps it, that's love. 

Clayton stared at Ethan blankly, clenching his hands tightly as he bit his lips. 

Boys now days, especially teenagers constantly crave for 'romantic relationship' with the same excuse all the time, 'I just want true love." That truly disgusts me, because I can see right through them, they just want them for their body... Ungrateful bastards, what about your parents? Don't they love you? Isn't that love? You guys have no idea about what it means to be not 'loved'

But can true peace be achieved? Can people become 'innocent' and live without conflict?

No matter which world, as long as we live in this 'fallen' world we would be intertwined in karma. Because we slaughter other living beings to survive, don't we? We hurt each other for our own sake, don't we? Even if we forgive that sin, because it is just the 'nature' of humans, we still manage to create incident, exaggerate it, and even distort it to develop a story in a place where an incident does not exist. 

After realizing the true world— the second stage of Clayton's worldview, 'suspicion' he began to isolate himself from society. He is afraid that he might get betrayed, played just like his father. And from the result of being isolated for a long time, Clayton eventually reached the third stage 'opposition'— hating the world, then the fourth stage, 'oblivion'. 

He stopped hoping for anything to happen as he let 'fate' lead him in life. Clayton has become the 'passenger' instead of the 'driver' in his own life.

Even in novels, where 'true peace' or 'happiness' is said to be achieved, there were still bitter struggle in the past. But that's what makes 'happiness' feel more genuine, doesn't it? Because of the terrible past, the future becomes more promising.

I really hope, you won't betray me, Ethan.

"Dude, you okay?" Ethan's voice broke through the fog in Clayton's mind.

Clayton blinked and turned to his friend, forcing a faint smile. "Yeah. Just thinking about how lucky we are to have Miss Mae as our teacher." His voice was steady, betraying none of his inner turmoil.

Ethan raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he grinned. "Yeah, she's pretty cool. Let's hope she doesn't send us to the principal's office again anytime soon!"

Clayton chuckled softly, shaking off the lingering heaviness in his chest. "Come on, let's go."

Ethan smiled as he slinged an arm around Clayton as they made their way down the hallway.