Aze Schycrimson.
The only son of the Crimson Empire Business. Yup, you read that right. Rumored to be the next heir of the company, everyone in the city knew him as a cheeky, fun, and energetic individual within his noble circle of friends and business acquaintances. However, they also recognized his unwavering loyalty to his father. Surely you do too.
The bond between father and son seemed unbreakable, a love that could never be rivaled. At least, that was the surface image.
Aze was always the life of the party, the one who could light up a room with his infectious energy and charm. He constantly tried his best to make his father proud, living up to the high expectations placed upon him by everyone around him. But no one knew the true cost of this facade.
Beneath his cheerful exterior lay countless scars, both physical and emotional. He had shed innumerable tears in the solitude of his room, steeling himself to maintain a strong front. He never allowed anyone to see his vulnerabilities, the cracks in his armor.
Aze Schycrimson, the proud son and, in his own eyes, a failure.
He longed for a love that never seemed to reach his skin, only leaving behind the pain as proof of the battles he endured for his father.
How I wish to be loved he often thought, but it remained a distant dream. He was only good at certain things, excelling in areas that brought him no personal joy.
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Aze looked at his phone screen, the night breeze brushing against his face as he sat on one of the swings at the deserted playground. The stillness of the night seemed to mirror the emptiness he felt inside. On the screen was a picture of his family, his mother, father, and him when he was just three years old.
A sad smile tugged at his lips as he gazed at the photo. His eyes lingered on his father's face, noting the way it softened as he looked at Aze's late mother. That warmth and affection were something Aze had yearned for his entire life, but they were emotions he had rarely experienced firsthand.
The picture captured a moment of genuine happiness, although it brings zero memories in his mind, never printed on his brain at that moment, whether it is because of that incident or because he is just merely a three years old kid. A stark contrast to the reality he lived now. His mother's absence had left a void that his father filled with expectations and demands, rather than love and support.
"How I wish things could have stayed like this," Aze murmured to himself, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves. He closed his eyes, letting the memories of happier times wash over him, even if just for a fleeting moment.
As he stared back at the starry sky, Aze could feel the tears burning to break free from his eyes. He quickly blinked them away, determined not to let his emotions get the better of him. Feeling sad wouldn't bring his mother back to life.
He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp night air. The stars above twinkled indifferently, a reminder of the vastness of the universe and his own insignificance. "Crying won't change anything," he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible.
Aze straightened on the swing, pushing off lightly with his feet to sway back and forth. The motion was soothing, reminiscent of simpler times when his mother would push him on the swing, her laughter echoing around him. He missed those moments more than anything.
His phone buzzed again, pulling him out of his reverie. He glanced down to see a new message from Fang, the words on the screen piercing through the fog of his thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Missing Fire
Fanfiction"Look, I know what you're thinking. It seems impossible because I thought so too. But he looks so much like him, even his eyes. I may not have seen him for eight years, but I'll never forget those eyes," or They used to be seven twins but now they w...
