Again

Chapter 09

Ben stood amid the surging crowd, but the electrifying energy of the concert hall barely reached him. His attention was locked onto Wayne, who seemed to be having the time of his life. Wayne's eyes sparkled with a brightness that matched the flashing stage lights, his laughter contagious as he leaned toward friends, sharing jokes, sharing joy. For Ben, it was a moment of stillness amidst the chaos. The music, the shouting fans, the endless movement—it all faded into the background. All he could see was Wayne.

Wayne's happiness had always been the most beautiful thing in Ben's world. Tonight, watching him dance and laugh, Ben's chest constricted, as if the years of silent yearning were coiling tighter with every glance. The warmth of Wayne's laughter felt like both a comfort and a curse. The more joy Wayne radiated; the more suffocating Ben's secret became—how much longer could he hide this?

He'd loved Wayne for over a decade, and it never got easier to keep it hidden. Every glance, every casual touch, every inside joke made the feelings heavier, but tonight, seeing Wayne so free, Ben almost didn't care if he was caught. Maybe it was enough just to be near him, just to witness his joy.

He felt the warmth of his smile spread across his face. Then Wayne turned, catching Ben's lingering gaze, a question in his eyes.

"What's that?" Wayne asked, his breath still coming out in soft gasps from dancing, noticing Ben holding his phone.

Ben's hand tightened around his phone, his pulse skipping when Wayne's eyes caught his. A flicker of something crossed Wayne's face, curious, teasing, but Ben wasn't ready to let it linger. He looked away, but too late—the heat of that gaze lingered, seeping through his chest like a wound left open. "Oh, just checking the setlist," he said, holding up the screen.

Wayne's eyes narrowed with playful curiosity. "What's the next song?"

"'I Wanna Be Yours,'" Ben replied, his voice tight, the words coming out slower than usual. He felt the tension settle in his chest again, the question weighing on him for reasons Wayne couldn't possibly understand.

Wayne's smile widened, a mischievous glint lighting up his features. "Me too."

Ben frowned, confused. "What?!"

"It's my favorite," Wayne leaned in, and the world slowed. The faint scent of cologne mixed with the heat of the crowd clung to the air between them, and Ben could feel every nerve in his body pulse with the proximity. It took everything in him not to step closer, not to close that unbearable gap. His grin was infectious.

Before Ben could process the moment, the song's signature opening chords boomed through the speakers, sending the crowd into a frenzy. But Ben barely noticed them. All he could think about was how that song—their song, the one Ben had played over and over while thinking about Wayne—was Wayne's favorite too.

The noise, the screams, the pulsating lights seemed to fade as Ben watched Wayne turn away, lost in the music again. Ben felt a pang in his chest. He wanted to say something, anything, but the moment had passed.

A sharp, piercing scream from Rhea shattered the quiet between them, pulling their attention sharply to her. She was standing, hands clutching at her face as she screamed like she had just been given the world, her joy uncontainable. But as quickly as the scream came, it dissolved. Rhea dropped back into her seat, her body trembling, overwhelmed by an emotion none of them could fully grasp.

Wayne was the first to react, leaning over to her. "Rhea, are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

She didn't reply—just shook her head, biting her lip to stop the tears welling in her eyes. The rest of the group fell silent, but Rhea's mind was elsewhere. Her gaze was drawn like a magnet across the hall, where her worst fears were realized.

There, only a few rows away, stood Jake. With another woman.

It felt like the world shifted off its axis, the ground beneath her feet suddenly unstable. Her breath caught in her throat, her vision blurring around the edges. He was laughing with the woman, touching her arm, his hand lingering at the small of her back. Everything about it screamed intimacy, familiarity, betrayal. Rhea's stomach twisted, the taste of jealousy sharp and bitter in her mouth. She wanted to scream again, not in joy, but in fury. But she held it in.

Don't react, she told herself, gripping the edge of her seat. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

The music boomed, drowning out her thoughts, but Rhea couldn't move past the image of Jake with that woman. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, and she felt the sting of tears at the back of her eyes.
Rhea's fingers hovered over the phone, her mind screaming at her to stop, but the sight of Jake with that woman—his hand on her back, that familiar touch—made her stomach twist with jealousy. She snapped the picture before she could talk herself out of it, the bitterness of the act settling like acid in her chest. It was petty, and she knew it, but it was the only way to make him see—see how easily he had wrecked her.

Arthur leaned, watching the stage, but his mind was somewhere else. His gaze kept shifting to Ashe, standing beside him, smiling and laughing with Ben and Wayne. He couldn't shake the memory of what had happened earlier, the adrenaline that had coursed through him when he saw Ashe cornered by those men. The instinct to protect had come so naturally, so powerfully.

But why? Why did it matter to him? Ashe was the one who had hurt Wayne—someone Arthur had sworn to protect, to defend against people like him. And yet, tonight, when it came down to it, Arthur had thrown himself into the fray for Ashe, had fought off those men without a second thought. And he wasn't sure why it bothered him so much.

"Ashe," Arthur said quietly, his voice cutting through the distant hum of the concert.

Ashe turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What's up?"

Arthur opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. What could he even say? Why did you hurt Wayne? Or maybe, Why am I drawn to you when I shouldn't be? But none of that felt right. The tension between them was thick, simmering beneath the surface, and Arthur wasn't ready to confront it head-on. Not yet.

"Never mind," he muttered, turning away.

But Ashe didn't let it go. He stepped closer, his voice softer, filled with an unfamiliar seriousness. "Arthur, what's going on? You've been acting weird ever since—"

"Ever since I saved you?" Arthur interrupted; his tone sharper than intended.

Ashe blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah. I guess I didn't expect you to."

Arthur clenched his fists, not from anger, but from the confusion clawing at him. How could he hate Ashe for hurting Wayne, yet feel this burning need to protect him? The contradiction gnawed at him, and he wasn't sure which part of him would win. "Neither did I."

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the music from the concert washing over them like background noise. The tension was palpable, the air between them thick with unspoken feelings, unresolved anger, and something else—something Arthur wasn't ready to name. But it was there, undeniable, pulling them closer.

Ashe searched Arthur's face, expecting resentment but finding something else, something he couldn't quite place. It left him feeling exposed, as though Arthur had seen a part of him that he kept buried even from himself. Ashe took a deep breath, his voice barely audible above the music. "Why did you do it, Arthur? Why help me?"

Arthur met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Because I couldn't stand by and watch."

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning.


The music shifted, a crescendo building as the song reached its climax. Wayne, caught in the rush of it, turned to Ben with a wide smile, his eyes sparkling with a joy so pure it nearly undid Ben right there.

Ben leaned in, his breath catching in his throat, the weight of a decade pressing against his chest. His voice wavered, low, trembling—on the verge of breaking the silence that had protected him all these years. 'Wayne, I...' But the words slipped away, swallowed by Wayne's laughter.

Tonight wasn't the night.

A/N: Thank you for reading this story. I really appreciate the time and effort you're giving into reading this story. My eyes sweated tears when I saw that almost a hundred people read this. I did not expect it but here we are. The next part will be on the 23rd of October. Thank you, thank you very much.