need help

1

Macau sat at the dinner table, his gaze fixed on the plate in front of him. The once familiar sound of clinking silverware and light conversation now felt like a storm raging around him. Every laugh, every whisper felt like a blade slicing into him. He could feel their eyes on him—cold, unforgiving.

Chay sat at the center of the table, basking in the attention of the family. His smile was wide, his laugh obnoxious, but no one seemed to mind. Tankhun doted on him, passing him extra servings, while Porsche and Kinn exchanged light-hearted banter, their focus entirely on Chay. Even Kim, who used to have a soft spot for Macau, now only had eyes for his younger brother.

It hadn’t always been this way. But ever since that incident—when they all believed Macau had hurt Chay—everything changed. Chay made sure of it.

Chay, the adored baby of the family, sat with a smug grin plastered on his face, feeding off the love and protection everyone showered on him. He knew what he was doing, and the worst part was, no one seemed to care about the truth. Chay had lied, twisted the story, and Macau was left with no way to defend himself. No one believed him. No one even asked.

"I can’t believe you still let him sit here," Chay said suddenly, his voice cutting through the comfortable chatter. He didn’t even look at Macau, but everyone knew exactly who he meant. "After everything he did."

The table fell silent. Porsche’s jaw tightened, and Kinn shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Vegas, sitting across from Macau, exchanged a look with Pete, but neither spoke up. No one would dare defy Chay—not anymore.

Macau clenched his fists under the table. He wanted to speak, to defend himself, but what was the point? They had already made up their minds.

"Chay’s right," Kim added coldly, his eyes narrowing as they finally landed on Macau. "He’s lucky he’s even still here."

The words hit harder than a punch. Kim, who Macau had loved more than anyone, now looked at him with nothing but disdain. The hatred in his gaze was suffocating, a reminder of just how far Macau had fallen in everyone’s eyes.

“I can’t even look at him,” Tankhun chimed in, flipping his hair dramatically, his face twisted in disgust. “Every time I see him, I remember what he did to poor Chay.”

Porsche’s gaze hardened as well. “You should be ashamed, Macau. After everything this family has done for you.” His voice was low, dripping with disappointment and anger.

Macau’s stomach twisted. He wanted to scream the truth, to tell them they were wrong—that Chay wasn’t the innocent victim they believed him to be. But his words were trapped, buried beneath their hatred.

Chay leaned back in his chair, smirking at Macau, enjoying every second of his misery. He had won. He had the family wrapped around his finger, and Macau was left with nothing.

“Why don’t you just leave already?” Chay sneered, his voice laced with cruelty. “No one wants you here.”

Macau’s heart pounded in his chest. Each word felt like a hammer driving nails into his already broken soul. He looked around the table, desperate for even the smallest hint of sympathy. But there was none. Even Pete, who was once kind to him, now avoided his gaze. Vegas sat beside Pete, silent, his face unreadable. The brotherly bond they once shared was shattered.

No one would come to his defense. No one cared.

With a deep breath, Macau stood up. His chair scraped loudly against the floor, but no one flinched. No one stopped him.

“Finally,” Chay muttered, rolling his eyes. “Maybe now we can have some peace.”

Macau’s chest tightened. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like the walls were closing in on him. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the room, leaving them behind.

As he made his way down the long hallway, the weight of their hatred pressed down on him. He was truly alone now. The people he once loved—his family, his brother, Kim—they all hated him, and nothing he said or did would change that.

He reached his room and slammed the door shut behind him. His hands shook as he pressed his back against the door, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to his chest.

Tears blurred his vision, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t show weakness, not now. Not when they already saw him as a failure, as a burden.

In the distance, he could still hear Chay’s laughter echoing through the house, carefree and full of joy. The family he once belonged to was now united in their hatred for him, and Chay was the one pulling the strings.

Macau pressed his hands against his temples, trying to block out the noise, trying to stop the suffocating weight of guilt and loneliness from swallowing him whole. But it was useless. The guilt, the shame, the isolation—it was all too much.

He was completely alone.

At the dinner table, Chay continued to bask in the affection of the family. He smiled, enjoying the fact that Macau was gone, that no one cared for him anymore. To Chay, this was justice. This was how things should be.

Porsche and Kinn exchanged glances, but neither said anything. Tankhun continued doting on Chay, oblivious to the storm brewing in Macau’s heart. Kim, though silent, had made his stance clear—there was no place for Macau in his life anymore.

Vegas and Pete sat quietly, but even they had distanced themselves. No one would save Macau. Not now. Not ever.

Chay had won, and Macau was left to drown in the silence of his own despair.