Caught In-between Love & Hate

8. Lump In My Throat.

Felix Part 2

As a fashion influencer, Felix had plenty of work to catch up on: PR packages, emails, and social media management. He knew he needed someone to handle all the admin and social media tasks, but for now, he was on his own. He decided to start with his messages, but as he scrolled through them, his attention was caught by one in particular-a message from someone from his past.

Felix watches the message from his past linger on his screen. His fingers grip the edges of his phone, his knuckles white with tension. The simple notification feels like a trigger, and his chest tightens, his heart thudding in his ears. The words seem to blur as his eyes dart across the screen again, and panic begins to rise.

"Why is she contacting me? What do they want from me? How did they find my number?" The questions race through his mind, tumbling over each other in a cascade of dread.

His breath quickens, the world narrowing into a sharp, painful focus. His hands tremble as he shoves the phone across the room, the screen hitting the wall with a soft crack. He hears the sharp ping of it hitting the floor, but it's drowned by the roar of his thoughts. What's happening? Who gave my number to these people?

Without thinking, he grabs his car keys, snatches his wallet from the counter, and rushes out the door. His legs are shaking, but he forces himself to move, the cold air outside doing nothing to calm the fire inside him. He climbs into his car, the engine growling to life as he speeds off. The world outside becomes a blur of lights and shadows, his hands gripping the wheel with desperation.

He pulls into the liquor store, the fluorescent lights flickering as he steps out of the car. The aisles seem to close in around him as he grabs the first bottle of whiskey his hand touches. The glass is heavy in his palm, but it's the only thing that seems to make sense. He stumbles back to the car, tossing the bottle onto the passenger seat, and drives back home, his mind racing faster than the wheels beneath him.

Inside, he cracks open the bottle, the sharp scent of alcohol filling the space as he pours the first glass. The amber liquid glistens in the low light of his apartment. His throat burns with each sip, the warmth spreading but offering no relief. His hands are shaking again, his breath ragged.

"Calm down, calm down..." He repeats it like a mantra, but it's no use. He takes another gulp, feeling the edges of his panic blur with the whiskey's bite. The sensation spreads through his limbs, a numbness creeping over him, but it only makes his thoughts more fragmented. He can't escape it, can't quiet the storm raging inside him.

"I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. What the hell do they want from me?" The words spill from his lips, but they sound hollow, like echoes in the room.

The seconds stretch, unbearable and thick with anxiety, as the whiskey dulls his senses but does nothing to quiet the panic. His body shakes, his vision swimming.

By 8:00 p.m., the door bursts open, and his brothers rush in. They find him sprawled on the couch, his body limp, eyes closed. His face is flushed with the effects of the alcohol, his hands still clenching the bottle. They panic, shaking him awake, but he doesn't respond.

Minho calls his name, but it's like Felix isn't there. He and Chan share a look of deep concern before gently lifting him up and helping him to his room.

Felix is half-conscious, his body moving on autopilot. As they lay him down on the bed, his mind is still caught in the spiraling chaos. His brothers leave, and Chan hesitates at the door before speaking quietly, his voice filled with worry. "Go ask him what happened when he wakes up."he murmured to Minho, his voice laced with a tension that made it barely more than a whisper.

They closed Felix's door softly, and the moment it clicked shut, Minho turned to Chan, his eyes wide and frantic. "Hyung," he said, voice trembling. "Something triggered him. We need to find out what it is as soon as possible, before he... before he spirals."

Chan's jaw tightened, his fists clenching. He looked down the hallway, a cold fury flickering in his eyes. "I swear... if it's those heartless cowards again..." His voice broke, a flash of anger crossing his face. "I swear I'll make them pay."

They exchanged a weighted look, one that held all the unspoken fears they couldn't bear to voice. Both turned back to glance at Felix's closed door, worry shadowing their expressions.

Finally, they walked away, leaving Felix alone in the stillness. But behind his door, Felix's mind plunged into darkness once more. The nightmare took hold, dragging him back to that haunting place, his breaths shallow and panicked as he fell deeper into the unsettling, twisted memories that clawed at him, refusing to let go.

---

In his nightmare, Felix stands in a haze, the air thick with a scent both sweet and metallic. The bar tender hands him a drink. He's parched-he doesn't even question it. He takes a sip, but then it hits him. His vision blurs, and a strange, overpowering dizziness sweeps over him. His head spins, and his body begins to betray him.

"Who drugged me? Who drugged me?" he gasps, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts. His voice rises in pitch, frantic as the fear takes hold. He staggers, searching for something solid, but everything around him warps and shifts.

Fumbling for his phone, his hands tremble as he dials. Minho first-no answer. Then Livie-no response. His mother... nothing. Desperation tightens around his throat as the walls seem to close in, and his heart races.

"Livie! Please, Livie!" he cries, his voice breaking. This time, she picks up.

"Someone poisoned me," he whispers, barely holding back the terror.

Livie's voice sharpens with alarm. "Lock yourself in the bathroom. Don't let anyone near you. I'm coming to get you."

Her words barely register as he bolts, stumbling through the chaos. He ignores the others at the fashion event, their voices fading as he locks himself in the bathroom. Alone in the silence, he realizes the emptiness only magnifies his terror. But suddenly, a violent banging pounds against the door, the sound so fierce it jolts through him like a shockwave.

His pulse quickens, and he presses himself against the far wall, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. The banging continues, relentless and terrifying, as if whoever-or whatever-is on the other side is determined to break through. Trapped, he feels the panic rise to a fever pitch, threatening to consume him whole.

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

********* Part 8 End ********

Hello everyone 👋🏽

I hope you're doing well and that you enjoyed this episode. The drugging incident is inspired by a personal experience of mine, and I wrote this scene with the hope of offering a glimpse into what it feels like for those who haven't gone through it. It's a bit of a personal episode, but I'm glad I could share it with you all. Writing this has been part of my own healing process, and I hope it resonates with you.

Don't forget to vote and add to your playlist for update notifications. Thank you for your continued support!

Love,
Cocoa Lovegood