A Little Lost

Chapter Twenty: Chaos

IAN

Watching Derrick kiss Louie in front of everyone felt like a gut-wrenching blow. Instead of enjoying the party, I was left reeling, blindsided by the sight.

The image of them together kept replaying in my mind, a harsh reminder of what I had missed. I had always valued Louie's presence, but I never fully acknowledged my feelings until now.

That kiss made it clear how much I had let slip away by keeping our relationship casual.

Even though it was just a silly game, the kiss between Derrick and Louie felt incredibly real.

It should have been me kissing Louie in front of everyone, not Derrick.

I should have been the one to take a chance and make a move before someone else did. I should have shown Louie how much he meant to me and claimed that moment for us.

Watching Derrick take what I had hesitated to pursue filled me with anger and regret.

Our relationship had always been kept casual and secret, and now it was clear that my indecision and reluctance to take it to the next level had cost me.

Seeing them together was a harsh reminder of what I missed by not being more open about my feelings.

It should have been me who acted on my feelings before it was too late.

After Louie left, I grabbed a bottle of beer and downed it in one go. The alcohol burned as it slid down my throat, but it did nothing to dull the sharp pangs of regret and confusion.

Sandra, ever perceptive, noticed my sudden change in mood and wasn't about to let me pretend everything was fine.

"Kuya, what's going on with you?" she asked, her concern evident. "You've been acting weird since the game."

I tried to brush it off. "I'm fine, Sandra. Just need a drink," I said, though my tone was defensive.

Sandra wasn't convinced. She hovered around as I tried to lose myself in the chaos of the party. I mingled with some guys, attempting to join their drinking games, but it all felt meaningless.

The laughter and noise seemed distant, as if they were coming from another world.

The party was in full swing, and I forced myself to join the conversations and laughter with my friends, but everything felt hollow.

I found myself near the bar, nursing a beer, hoping it would help push away the frustration gnawing at me. My attempts to join the fun felt futile, and I could feel the tension building inside me.

Out of nowhere, someone jostled me roughly. A guy from the party, clearly tipsy, had bumped into me, and his beer spilled all over me. The cold liquid dripped down my clothes, snapping me out of my daze.

"Bro, what the fuck!" I yelled, my anger flaring up instantly. The guy's hurried apology barely registered over the noise of the party. I didn't care about the apology—I shoved him, and before I knew it, we were throwing punches.

The fight was a blur of chaotic movements and angry shouts. I wasn't thinking about the spilled beer or the guy's apology anymore. It was just a way to deal with the frustration and anger I'd been feeling. I didn't care about the crowd or the consequences. I just needed to release the pent-up frustration inside me.

Sandra was quick to intervene. She dragged me away from the scuffle, her face a mix of frustration and concern.

"Kuya, what's going on? This isn't like you!" Sandra exclaimed.

"Does this have something to do with Louie?" Her question surprised me. I was drunk, but her words cut through the haze.

"Stay out of it. You don't know anything," I slurred.