From Frost to Flame

Chapter 5: Unraveling Threads

Inside the Café

At Present

When Vegas left, Porsche pulled out his phone, scrolling through Instagram. "Oh... it looks like he saw something about Nawee."

"Nawee?" Pete asked, confusion clouding his expression.

"Yeah, his ex-boyfriend," Kinn replied, glancing up from his phone. "They were together for a long time, but it ended badly. Nawee was... complicated. He hurt Vegas, and it's left a mark." Kinn's voice was tinged with sadness, knowing how deeply his brother had been affected.

As they all processed the sudden turn of events, Pete felt a pang of sympathy for Vegas. It was clear that beneath the sharp suit and cool demeanor lay a man haunted by memories of love gone awry. "I didn't mean to intrude," Pete murmured, feeling guilty for having taken part in the evening that had turned so sour.

"Don't worry about it," Kinn said, trying to lift the mood. "Let's just give him some space. He needs time to sort through... whatever that was."

Porsche nodded, though his expression was still concerned. "I just hope he's okay out there. He seemed shaken."

Kinn sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I'll try calling him again." He pressed a few buttons, raising the phone to his ear. After a moment, he frowned, the call going straight to voicemail. "No answer," he said, setting the phone down with a hint of frustration. "I hate feeling so helpless."

"Maybe he just needs some time alone," Porsche suggested. "But I agree, we should check on him."

Kinn nodded at Porsche. "Yeah, let's give it a few minutes. Then we'll head out and see if we can find him."

Pete glanced at the door, the weight of concern pressing down on him. I hope he knows we're here for him, he thought, wishing he could ease the burden Vegas was carrying. After a brief moment of silence, he finally spoke up. "I think we should check on him."

Kinn nodded, his expression resolute. With a shared look of determination, they all gathered their things and headed out of the café, ready to find Vegas and offer him the support he needed.

At Present: Vegas

As the door swung shut behind him, the café's laughter faded into an echo, leaving Vegas alone with the chill of the night. He stepped out into the dimly lit street, the cool air wrapping around him like a shroud. His mind raced, replaying the images he had just seen—Nawee, vibrant and happy, completely unbothered by the storm he had left in Vegas's heart.

Leaning against a lamppost, Vegas took a deep breath to steady himself, but it did little to quell the turmoil inside. He could still feel the weight of Nawee's kiss on someone else's lips, a painful reminder of the love he had once cherished. The suffocating grip of despair threatened to crush him as if the universe had conspired to remind him of his failures at the worst possible moment.

The world around him continued to move—cars passed by, and a group of friends laughed as they strolled down the sidewalk—but Vegas remained frozen in time. He glanced at his phone, the screen still lit up with Nawee's story. Unable to resist, he picked it up again, staring at the images that had shattered his composure.

The Eiffel Tower loomed in the background, a monument to memories—Nawee's laughter echoed in his mind like a ghost haunting him. Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he just move on? The thought of Nawee's betrayal twisted like a knife in his gut, every painful memory surfacing like a tidal wave.

"Stop it," he muttered to himself, shaking his head as if to clear away the thoughts. But it was futile. Each reminder was a wound that refused to heal, festering beneath the surface. Vegas closed his eyes, trying to block out the images, but his mind betrayed him. He could see Nawee's laughter, the way his eyes sparkled with joy. How could someone who once loved him so deeply move on so easily?

In the depths of his despair, Vegas felt a surge of anger rising within him—anger at Nawee for moving on, but even more at himself for still being tethered to the past. Why was he letting it control him? He wanted to scream, to run, to do anything but feel this way.

Just then, a familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Vegas!" It was Kinn, rushing out of the café, with Porsche and Pete following closely behind. Kinn's brow was furrowed with concern, and for a brief moment, the weight of his brother's worry cut through the fog in Vegas's mind.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Kinn asked, stepping closer. "You just took off."

"Just needed some air," Vegas replied, his voice betraying more than he intended.

Porsche interjected, trying to lighten the mood. "It's a nice night for a walk. Why don't we all go for a bit? I could use a stretch after that wine." He smiled, but Vegas could see the concern lurking behind it.

Pete stood slightly back, his eyes darting between the three of them, unsure of how to act. "I—uh, we didn't mean to put you on the spot," he said softly, his voice laced with a hint of worry. "Is everything alright?"

Vegas felt the familiar urge to retreat, to shield himself from their concern. "I'm fine, really," he insisted, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. But deep down, he knew it was a lie.

Kinn was unconvinced, crossing his arms. "You don't look fine. What's going on, Vegas?"

Before Vegas could answer, his phone buzzed again, a harsh reminder of the world he was trying to escape. He glanced at the screen once more, the ping ringing louder in his ears than the voices around him. Another message from Nawee.

With trembling hands, he opened it, only to find more pictures—a series of snapshots filled with the places where Vegas and Nawee had visited together. It was like a memory from their past—photos from their adventures, happy moments that now felt tainted. Each image was a dagger, digging deeper into his chest. He felt exposed as if the whole world could see his vulnerability laid bare.

"Vegas?" Kinn's voice broke through his fog. "What's on your phone?"

"Nothing," Vegas snapped, shutting his phone with a force that surprised even him. "Just... old pictures."

"Old pictures?" Kinn pressed, concern etching deeper lines on his face. "I guess we should talk."

But Vegas didn't want to burden them with the weight of his heartbreak. Instead, he turned away, trying to regain control over his spiraling emotions. "I just need some time alone," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Vegas..." Kinn began, but Vegas cut him off.

"Please, just let me be."

With that, he stepped away from them, feeling the ache of their confusion and concern lingering behind him. The familiar walls he had built around his heart rose once more, and he felt the shadows close in as he walked away, each step heavy with unshed tears and unhealed scars.

As he retreated into the night, the pain of Nawee's betrayal hung in the air like a dark cloud, leaving him to grapple with a future that felt more uncertain than ever.

Would he ever find a way to move on, or would he be forever haunted by the memories that held him captive? Those thoughts lingered in his mind, a heavy presence that refused to let him forget.

What do you think?
Could he find a way to move on, or are some memories just too powerful to escape?