Days Are Numbered

49. Intentions

Noah tossed his phone on his bed as he loosened his tie, the day's tension melting away with each undone knot. With practiced ease, he began unbuttoning his sleeves. As he settled into the rhythm of undressing, the door cracked open silently, revealing Julius peering in from the crack like a curious observer at a theater.

"I hope I'm not bothering," Julius began cautiously, stepping fully into Noah's room. The air seemed to shift as he crossed the threshold.

Noah, now perching on the desk, nodded in acknowledgment, his expression still guarded but betraying a hint of curiosity.

Julius took a seat on the bed, surveying the room with a slight pulse playing at the corners of his lips. "Not much in here, huh?" he remarked, his tone light but probing.

With a nonchalant shrug, Noah acknowledged the observation. "I needed space," he admitted, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions.

Julius adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, preparing to broach a delicate topic. "Mind if we talk about Andrew?" he inquired, his gaze meeting Noah's with a mix of concern and understanding.

Noah's response was a simple shrug, "Suit yourself," he replied, his voice holding a note of resignation mixed with a glimmer of anticipation for what the conversation might bring.

Julius leaned in closer, his hands joined together as if in prayer, his expression one of genuine concern. "First, I'd like to apologize on behalf of your mother. She should have reacted differently," he began, his tone soft but earnest. "What happened Between you and Andrew? I heard you tried to choke him, because you were upset and a mob boss. Not me, the kids," he added with a wry smile, attempting to lighten the mood with a touch of humor.

Noah almost rolled his eyes at the exaggerated description but didn't refute it. "I simply told him how nobody cares about what he does with his life and why he should focus on himself so he doesn't end up like a street dog," he admitted, his tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with a hint of bitterness.

"That was... harsh," Julius remarked, his brows furrowing in concern.

"The truth is harsh," Noah replied, his smile holding a weight of sadness and numbness that lay under his youthful appearance. "Someone once told me, if you want change, start from the spirit. Crushing as hard as you can, it would be easier to implement the change," he added cryptically.

Julius narrowed his eyes in confusion, trying to decipher Noah's enigmatic statement. After a moment, he shook his head. "Maybe you could have been a bit nicer," he suggested tentatively, fidgeting with his hands as if unsure of his own words.

Noah sighed, the sarcasm evident in his tone as he loosened his tie. "When I was away, I learned one thing," he began, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance. "You could die, and it would be no one's business. Nobody would care. They might act like they do, but life continues. No hurt would be done. Then what's the essence of living a life for people to applaud? For them to hail you?" He paused, locking eyes with Julius.

Julius listened intently, his confusion giving way to a contemplative expression as Noah spoke. He nodded slowly, processing the weight of Noah's words.

"What's the essence of messing up time and time again just to punish your parents?" Noah continued, his voice growing more impassioned. "What's the essence of living the opposite way you've been instructed to just because you want to prove you can do whatever you want? That's very stupid. Andrew is stupid."

He took a moment, his gaze steady as he imparted his wisdom. "If you want to live, live for yourself. Be proud. Do things that matter to you. Do things that you can take to your grave—memories of your good work, the feeling of accomplishment. Be a success, and they will come around, those that hail you for your doings. But the most important thing is you, how you feel about yourself. If you can't live for yourself, your conscience, a good work even if it is not recognized, there is no point in living." Noah's words hung heavy in the air, his tone betraying none of the emotions that churned beneath the surface.