Chapter 13: On one condition

It had been four days since the rooftop.

Four days since Kelvin shared his AirPod, apologized like it physically pained him, and looked at Felix like he mattered.

And it had been exactly seven days since Kelvin packed up and went back to his parent’s mansion like the prodigal son of emotional constipation.

Felix hated it.

Not that he’d say it out loud.

Instead, he focused on the lights, the camera flashes, the fake wind machine blowing his perfectly styled hair off his cheekbones.

They were in the middle of a group shoot, but today’s concept included a "duo pairing" segment—meaning he was stuck posing with Mr. Guilt-Free Absence himself.

Kelvin stood beside him, effortlessly elegant in a black velvet suit, eyes cold, jaw sharp, cheekbones rude.

Felix hated how good they looked together on camera.

And worse? They couldn’t stop talking.

“Can you stop moving your arm like you’re made of wood?” Felix muttered, still smiling toward the camera.

“Can you stop breathing like you’re about to curse me?” Kelvin replied, voice equally deadpan, both of them holding their pose like professionals.

The photographer told them to lean into each other.

They did.

Barely.

“Do you want to leave some room for an angel?” Felix asked, arching a brow.

“I’m giving it a front-row seat,” Kelvin replied with the same amount of sass.

The camera clicked.

Another flash.

More banter. More tension disguised as jokes.

And then, mid-pose, Felix’s mind went rogue.

"Are you still in your baby phase, Kelvin? You don’t wanna leave your mommy?"

He didn’t mean to say it.

But, of course, he did.

Quietly. Right between poses. Words like poison-coated sugar.

Kelvin, frozen in a sharp angle toward the camera, didn’t move a muscle—but his eye twitched.

“What,” he said flatly, “do you mean by that?”

Kelvin didn't miss a beat. Still facing the camera, still half-posed in designer glory, he murmured, “You know, if you just miss me, you could say that.”

Felix flinched so subtly only someone glued to his every move would notice.

Which, of course, Kelvin was.

Felix scoffed. “And now you’re getting everything twisted.”

Another flash.

Then a heavy sigh from the photographer.

“Alright, you two,” she said, lowering her camera. “Five-minute break. And please—talk less, pose more. You’re literally the visual line, stop acting like siblings in a car ride.”

The crew laughed. Felix didn’t.

Because he didn’t think—he just acted.

He grabbed Kelvin’s wrist and dragged him around the corner of the studio, past a row of costume racks and into the deserted corridor near the emergency exit. The air back here was colder. Quieter.

And everything inside him was louder.

He didn’t even look at Kelvin as he spoke. “If I’m the reason you’re not coming home, you don’t have to stay away. The others miss you. You could just come back.”

Kelvin leaned against the wall casually, eyes sharp, unreadable.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then, finally—

“What about?”

Felix stiffened.

Kelvin took a step forward.

“Do you miss me?”

Felix turned his face away, reaching for sarcasm, for anything that might keep the walls up.

But nothing came.

Not fast enough.

And Kelvin stepped closer.

Boxing him in.

One hand braced beside Felix’s head, the other blocking the way out.

Not touching.

Not threatening.

Just there.

Close.

Quiet.

Felix glanced at his phone—then back at Kelvin’s face.

“Oh, look at that,” he said, voice too casual. “Break’s over. Guess we should get back—”

Kelvin didn’t move.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

Felix swallowed.

Just then a distant voice echoed down the corridor—

“Felix? Kelvin? Where’d you two go?!”

Felix turned his head instinctively toward the sound, but Kelvin moved faster.

He grabbed Felix’s wrist and pulled him closer—not rough, not too tight, just decisive. Then stepped behind a tall set of rolled-up backdrops leaning against the wall, tugging Felix with him into the narrow space behind it.

They were hidden. Barely.

Felix’s breath caught.

He could feel the heat from Kelvin’s body. Hear the faintest trace of his cologne. His heart drummed in his chest like it was trying to break out.

Footsteps passed. Staff voices faded.

When it was safe, Kelvin turned back to Felix.

Same position.

Same eyes.

“You should answer me,” he said again, softer now.

Felix stared at the floor for a second. Then finally muttered, “Okay. Fine.”

He didn’t look up.

“The guys—” he started, then sighed. “They blame me. For you leaving. Said it was probably my fault. Said I should’ve apologized. Said I should’ve gotten you to come back.”

Kelvin didn’t say anything. Just watched him.

“And…” Felix’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore. So, please come back home.”

There was silence for a moment.

Then the smallest smirk tugged at the corner of Kelvin’s mouth.

“I might, on one condition."

---

They returned to the photoshoot without another word.

No snark. No bickering. No glances.

Just silence.

For once, they did everything right—sharp angles, tight poses, eyes burning into the camera like they hadn’t just had a heart-tangling moment behind the set.

The photographer didn’t say it out loud, but Felix could feel it.

They looked good together.

Too good.

When the shoot wrapped, the crew scattered to pack equipment, and Rika drifted off to talk with another staff member about scheduling next week’s shoot.

Felix grabbed a water bottle and wiped the corner of his lips with a towel.

Then he heard Kelvin’s voice.

Loud enough for him, but casual enough for anyone listening.

“Hey. Do you remember the condition?”

Felix groaned, loud and theatrical, rolling his eyes so hard they could’ve spun into the next timeline. “Seriously? You’re not letting that go?”

Kelvin just smirked.

But before Felix could retort—before he could say what condition or I take it back, stay with your mom forever—a voice rang out from across the studio.

“Kelvin?”

It was soft.

Too soft.

But sharp enough to slice through the entire room like a wire snapping.

Everyone’s heads turned—crew members, makeup artists, even Rika looked up mid-convo.

Felix followed their eyes.

He didn’t recognize the woman standing near the studio doors.

But Kelvin did.

His whole posture changed.

Felix noticed.

So did everyone else.

The woman walked forward with a calm, expensive kind of confidence. She was tall, elegant, dressed in sleek black. Her heels clicked against the floor like punctuation marks.

She stopped

just a few feet from them and smiled.

“Long time no see,” she said smoothly. “Missed me?”

Felix’s stomach twisted for an unknown reason. It just bugged him that this lady with over-glossed lips was bad news.

Kelvin’s jaw clenched.

And that’s when Rika blinked, eyebrows shooting up.

“Wait… is that Janice Li?”