Mr. Casanova

The Fault Lines

CHAPTER SEVEN

The weight of avoidance hung heavy in the air. Fourth had been diligently avoiding Gemini, skipping classes, staying away from their shared social circles, a silent protest against the turmoil in his heart. His friends, particularly Ford, were worried, but they understood. They'd seen the pain in his eyes, the way his smile faltered, the way his laughter had become a distant 

echo.

Today, Fourth hadn't shown up for class, despite his earlier promise. Satang, his ever-reliable friend, decided to call, his concern growing with each unanswered ring. His heart sank when Fourth's mother answered.

"Hello, Satang, son," Fourth's mother greeted him, her voice laced with a mixture of worry and resignation. Her words were soft, but her tone held a hint of weariness, as if she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Oh, Auntie, how are you? I was wondering why Fourth didn't come today," Satang said, his voice filled with concern. He heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. It was a sigh that spoke volumes, a sigh of a mother worried for her son, a sigh of a woman caught in the crossfire of a situation she couldn't control.

"Well, just now... we brought him to the hospital. He collapsed and had a high fever, but he's okay now," Fourth's mother said, her voice a mixture of relief and sadness. "Oh, can you please tell that to his advisor? And don't tell Gemini about this. Fourth doesn't want to," she continued, her voice a plea for understanding. Her words were a whisper, a plea for discretion, a mother protecting her son's fragile heart. Satang agreed, his heart heavy with worry for his friend. He bid farewell and hung up the phone.

In the cafeteria, Fourth's gang was gathered, their lunch a somber affair. The arrival of Gemini and Mark only amplified the tension, a silent reminder of the recent events that had shattered their friendship. Ford, unable to bear the weight of the atmosphere, excused himself, his shoulders slumping as he walked away, his gaze fixed on the floor. Mark followed, his usual carefree swagger replaced by a hesitant gait, his eyes darting around, as if searching for an escape from the suffocating tension.

Gemini stood, shoulders slumped, his face a mask of worry. His hands fidgeted, twisting a napkin in his fingers, a telltale sign of his anxiety. Yo pulled him to sit, his concern evident. No one spoke, the silence a suffocating presence. Prom, unable to bear the awkwardness any longer, yelled, "What the heck? No one's gonna talk now?" His voice was sharp, his frustration evident in the way he slammed his fist on the table.

Winny shook his head, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. "So, what now, Gemini? Did you already talk to him?" Satang asked, his voice laced with concern, but also a hint of accusation. He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Gemini, his body language conveying a sense of both worry and judgment. Gemini shook his head, his silence a testament to his growing despair. He avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on his hands, his body language radiating a sense of defeat.

"He's avoiding me. He never picks up my calls. When I go to their house, the maid tells me that he's not home. So, how can I talk to him? I'm very worried about him, but I understand him. It's my fault, after all. I was too dumb about my feelings. I agreed to Mark, making sure of it by doing those shits in front of him," Gemini said, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and regret. His voice was a low murmur, his words a confession of his mistakes. He slumped further in his chair, his shoulders slumped, his body language conveying a sense of defeat. Prom patted his back, offering silent support, but his disapproval of Gemini's actions was evident. Everyone looked at Gemini, his frustration palpable. He wasn't eating, his eyes dark and tired, his face resembling a panda, his exhaustion a reflection of his emotional turmoil.