Chapter 5

Alright, I'll refine it—sharpening the humor, tightening the prose, and making Charssein's self-destructive, detached mentality louder.

---

My Dear Reader,

There are certain moments in life that make you stop and reconsider your entire existence.

Like submitting the wrong file for an important project.

Or watching your phone plummet from your hands in slow motion.

Or, in my case—

Getting dumped by a girl I didn't even know I was dating.

---

The Great Disruption of My Peace

It happens in the middle of class.

The professor is droning on about something unimportant (aren't they always?) and I'm half-asleep, mentally drafting my suicide note in case today goes particularly bad.

Then—

BAM.

The door slams open.

Someone gasps.

The professor stops mid-sentence, blinking behind his glasses.

And standing there, like some kind of deranged avenging angel—

Is a girl.

A very angry girl.

---

The Mystery Girlfriend Appears

She marches in, heels clicking aggressively against the floor.

Her eyes? Locked onto me.

My brain? Buffering.

She stops in front of my desk, breathing heavily.

"Charssein Noir," she says, voice shaking with rage.

I blink up at her. "Uh. Yes?"

Her jaw clenches. "You bastard."

Okay. Rude.

She inhales sharply, as if she needs to physically gather strength before speaking.

Then, in front of the entire class—

"I AM BREAKING UP WITH YOU!"

…

Silence.

The professor adjusts his glasses.

The guy beside me slowly puts down his pen.

And my dear reader, I must admit—

I have never been more confused in my entire life.

---

I lean back in my chair. "That's cool."

She blinks. "…What?"

I shrug. "I mean, if you want to break up, go ahead."

Her face twitches. "That's all you have to say?"

"Yeah?"

"You—" She laughs. A short, disbelieving sound. "Do you even know why I'm mad?"

I decide to be honest.

"Not really."

Wrong answer.

Her eyes widen in sheer, unfiltered rage. "Are you fucking serious, Charssein?!"

"Unfortunately, I always am."

She looks like she wants to stab me.

The professor clears his throat. "Perhaps we should—"

"NO," she snaps. "I want everyone to hear this."

Great. A public execution.

She squares her shoulders. "Do you even know how long we've been together?"

…

I pause.

The realization slams into me like a car crash.

I. Do. Not. Know.

---

The classroom is dead silent.

Everyone is watching me, waiting for my answer.

Even the professor seems invested now.

My dear reader, you need to understand something.

I am good at many things.

Lying.

Avoiding responsibility.

Looking unbothered while mentally breaking down.

But remembering relationships I was never aware of?

Not one of my skills.

I clear my throat. "Uh. Three months?"

She screams.

"SEVEN, CHARSEIN. SEVEN MONTHS!"

The class gasps.

The professor mutters, "Good lord."

Someone in the back whispers, "He's so dead."

I exhale slowly. "Huh."

"HUH?! THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?"

"Well," I say, rubbing my temple, "in my defense, I have memory problems."

"You do not."

"Okay, but what if I did?"

Another scream.

And then—

She throws my own iced coffee at me.

It hits me square in the face before she storms out, slamming the door behind her.

The coffee drips down my chin.

Everyone is staring.

And my dear reader—

I wish I could say this was the worst thing to happen to me today.

But unfortunately, my so-called friends exist.

---

The Worst People I Know

Kenji leans over, grinning. "Well. That was interesting."

I wipe my face with my sleeve. "Fuck off, Kenji."

He ignores me. "So, now that you're single—"

"I was never taken."

"—we should celebrate."

I sigh. "I hate that word."

Reid, sitting across from us, smirks. "By celebrate, you mean get drunk on Charssein's money, right?"

Kenji gasps, clutching his chest. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

Reid deadpans. "You literally stole cash from his wallet last time."

Kenji grins. "And I'll do it again."

I groan. "I'm not paying for your drinks."

Cel places a hand on my shoulder, voice solemn.

"Charssein. My dear, beloved friend."

"No."

"You have just experienced a tragic heartbreak."

"I have not."

"And as your dearest companions, it is our duty to help you drown your sorrows in alcohol."

Migs smirks. "Using your own money."

I stare at them.

They stare back.

Then, like the idiot I am—

I sigh. "Fine."

And that, my dear reader, is how I end up in a bar with a stolen wallet and zero self-respect.

---

Three Hours Later

I am significantly poorer.

Kenji is singing on top of a table.

Cel and Migs are half-asleep or half-dead—I don't know.

And I am trying very hard to pretend I don't exist.

Then—

A voice.

Familiar.

Too close.

Too fucking close.

"Enjoying yourself, darling?"

I freeze.

My stomach drops.

Slowly, I turn my head.

And there—sitting beside me like he belongs here—

Neil Varian.

Smirking.

Because of course.

Because the universe fucking hates me.

---

The Part Where He Says Something Stupid

Neil swirls his drink, watching me.

I glare. "Why are you here?"

He tilts his head. "To see you, of course."

I scoff. "Do you not have anything better to do?"

He hums. "Probably."

"Then do it."

"Not interested."

I exhale sharply. "Neil."

"Yes, darling?"

"Get. Lost."

His lazy smile.

"How about we get lost together?"

…

My brain malfunctions.

I blink. "Excuse me?"

His fingers trail the rim of his glass.

His voice drops.

"Run away with me, Charssein."

---

TO BE CONTINUED…