Cann sighed, lying down on his bed, but sleep wouldn't come. His thoughts were consumed by Ritika. He couldn't stop wondering-should he tell her about Delitz? Should he tell Delitz about Ritika? But why? Ritika was just his neighbor, his friend. He...
Cann stood frozen, his mind trapped in a loop, replaying the events of the night.
"I hurt her. I hurt her." The words echoed relentlessly in his head.
Unable to bear the weight of his guilt, he bolted from the party, running back to his apartment. He didn’t wait for the elevator—he raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his heart pounding in sync with his thoughts. Reaching the door to his room, he fumbled with the key, his hands shaking. It got stuck in the lock, and he yanked it violently until the door finally gave way.
Inside, Cann rushed to his bedroom, tearing off his clothes and throwing them haphazardly onto the bed. His accessories clattered to the floor as he hurried into the bathroom. Without hesitation, he filled the bathtub and slid into the water, submerging himself completely.
This was his routine, his escape. Whenever the weight of the world—or his own actions—became too much to bear, he would drown himself in the silence of water, holding his breath until his lungs burned and his thoughts blurred. It was the only way he knew to quiet the storm within him, even if just for a moment.
Tonight was no different. As the cold water enveloped him, Cann closed his eyes, sinking deeper beneath the surface. The sound of his heartbeat pounded in his ears, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the overwhelming guilt that tore at him from the inside.
He stayed there, suspended between pain and numbness, waiting for the water to steal his breath.
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Cann lay submerged in his bathtub, as he often did when he wanted to escape. The cold water numbed his skin, but it couldn’t numb the storm inside. After a moment, he drained the water and remained there, motionless in the empty tub, too drunk to care, too broken to move. Eventually, he drifted off into a restless sleep.
Meanwhile, Ritika and Oziya arrived at the hospital. As they walked down the corridor, Oziya held Ritika’s hand, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. "That man... did you know him?" Oziya asked, still baffled by the earlier confrontation.
"Just a little," Ritika replied, glancing at her wound. "But he was drunk, and I hurt myself. It wasn’t his fault."
Once at the general ward, Ritika got stitches. The pain of the needle piercing her skin couldn’t distract her from the confusion swirling in her mind. *Why had Cann reacted like that? Why was he so angry?* she thought, remembering how possessive he seemed. *He doesn’t even know me that well, so why...*
The doctor finished quickly, advising her to rest for a few days. Oziya checked in on her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident.
Ritika nodded, offering him a faint smile, though her mind was elsewhere, still with Cann.
They left the hospital and drove back to the Sunshine Apartment complex. The party was winding down, with most guests already gone. Ritika stepped out of Oziya’s car and politely declined his offer to walk her to her door, assuring him she was fine. After he left, she lingered for a moment, glancing toward the garden, scanning for any sign of Cann. But the party was nearly over.
Just then, a wave of excitement rippled through the few remaining partygoers. A well-known model, Delitz, arrived, instantly drawing attention. The paparazzi cameras clicked away as she made her entrance, searching the party for Cann. Unable to find him, she headed to the bar, where she picked up a glass of scotch. Delitz called Cann, but he was too drunk to hear the phone buzzing from his room.
Spotting Feliz nearby, Delitz asked, "Hey, have you seen Cann?"
"Yeah, he was here earlier, but I think he’s gone home," Feliz replied before walking off.
Delitz grabbed her purse, unknowingly leaving her phone behind on the bar, and headed toward Cann’s apartment. As she rummaged through her bag, searching for her keys, she bumped into Ritika.
"Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you," Ritika apologized, quickly bending down to help pick up the purse.
Delitz eyed her for a moment. "I haven’t seen you around before," she remarked.
"I’m new here," Ritika replied, handing over the purse. There was a flicker of jealousy in Delitz's eyes as she took in Ritika’s beauty.
"Thanks," Delitz said curtly before heading toward the elevators.
Ritika followed her, hoping for a conversation, but the interaction was brief. Delitz suddenly remembered her phone and rushed back to the bar, muttering, "I left my phone."
"Okay, bye then," Ritika said softly, disappointed. She had hoped for a friendly connection, but the encounter ended as abruptly as it began.
Once in her apartment, Ritika undressed and collapsed onto the couch. The night’s events played on a loop in her head—Cann’s possessiveness, his jealousy, and the way he had held her so tightly. "Why is he so weird?" she muttered, confused by his behavior.
Unable to sleep, Ritika wandered out onto her balcony, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cann. She looked toward his apartment but saw no sign of him. Every few minutes, she glanced toward the connector that linked their balconies, but still, no movement. Eventually, she returned inside and curled up on the couch.
Delitz, meanwhile, retrieved her phone from the bar and made her way to Cann’s apartment. She rang the doorbell, and after a few minutes, a disheveled, half-asleep Cann opened the door, looking like a wreck.
"Delitz? What are you doing here?" he slurred, blinking in surprise.
She looked him over with a bemused expression. "You look like a pirate, Cann. I came to join you at the party, but I was late. Feliz told me you were there."
Cann’s face tensed. "Did he say anything else?"
"No, nothing important." Delitz shrugged. "I just came to give the media some photos of us together." She smiled, stepping closer to kiss him on the cheek. "I have to get back—Mom’s alone at home. But take care of yourself, okay?"
Cann nodded weakly, watching as Delitz turned and left. He stood at the door for a moment, her kiss still lingering on his cheek, before shutting it behind her.
As he returned to his empty apartment, the weight of the night crashed down on him. Cann collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the image of Ritika’s bloodied hand and his own uncontrollable actions.
