Happiness

CHAPTER FOUR

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” a cheerful voice broke through the haze, stirring me from sleep.

My mind was trapped in that foggy place between dreams and reality, my eyes struggling to adjust to the light flooding in. Slowly, I realized this wasn’t Ivan’s room. I tried to hold onto Mr. Lu’s familiar face, but it slipped away, replaced by a blur—a figure with a brow raised in mild impatience.

“Quit staring at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low and irritated. “We both agreed on this.”

Agreed on what? My thoughts were tangled, fragments of Rymara’s neon streets, unfamiliar faces, and a haunting darkness clinging to me. Somehow, I was in the back seat of my car—with Mr. Lu in the passenger seat.

The familiar scent of leather and wood polish, the gentle hum of the engine—it all felt surreal. We were back in Lyoria.

Mr. Lu glanced over, his cheerful smile replaced by concern as he arched a brow. “Kai, are you alright?” he asked, his tone edged with worry. "Talk to me."

But I couldn’t. My chest tightened with panic, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His voice grew urgent, commanding, “Stop the car!” The driver braked hard, the car jerking to a halt. Yet I felt trapped, spiraling in a silent storm until the world blurred into darkness.

I jolted awake, gasping for air, cold sweat clinging to my skin. I was in Ivan’s bedroom—not Lyoria. The dream clung to me, the panic attack leaving me raw and shaken.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pressed my hands into my temples, trying to quiet the childhood memories that had resurfaced. Fear, helplessness—they were familiar shadows. I felt an urge to hold onto something good, something real, but even that hope felt distant today.

The need for release built until I could no longer hold it in. I slammed a fist against the wall, the sharp pain grounding me, though it couldn’t stop the tears. I sank down, knees pulled up, letting the tears fall. They hurt, but it was a good hurt—a reminder that I was still here, still capable of feeling.

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A knock comes at the door. I blink awake, realizing I’d dozed off on the cold floor. I looked up to see the soft morning light spilling in, warming the room with a calm that felt almost foreign after the chaos in my mind. Groggy, I pull myself up and stumble to the door, rubbing my eyes as I open it.

Ivan’s sister stood there, a smile lighting up her face.

“Good morning,” she chirps, clearly not expecting to find me looking like... this.

I forced a faint smile. “Morning.”

She studies me for a moment, her brow arching. "How was your night?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over me.

“Splendid.” I forced a smile. The lie slipped out instinctively, a poor attempt at protecting whatever dignity I had left.

“Yeah, right,” she chuckled, folding her arms. “A word of advice? Work on that poker face. You look awful, and I’m pretty sure you bruised your hand.”I glanced at my reflection in the mirror behind her—a mess stared back at me. My hair was a tangled disaster, my face swollen from sleep and crying, dark circles shading my eyes. And my knuckles, dotted with dried blood, bore the evidence of last night’s anger. I looked away, embarrassed.

“Breakfast is ready. Ivan’s waiting in the kitchen. He’ll drop you off at the station before work,” Iris said. She turned, adding over her shoulder, “Oh, and there are extra toothbrushes in the drawer by the bed. First-aid kit too. You might want to use it.”