Broken Hands

150. Everybody has a secret

Grayson finally managed to slip away from Senior Smith's side, weaving through the elegant crowd as politely as he could until he found refuge in the restroom. He closed the door behind him and let out a slow breath. The quiet was a stark contrast to the noise outside.

He stepped to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on his face. The chill helped, but only slightly. He was exhausted—not just physically but in a way that sat heavy on his chest. But he still had to keep the mask on, still had to play his part.

Straightening, he reached for a napkin and wiped his face with formal, precise movements. His eyes flickered to the mirror, and for a brief second, he let himself slip—just a little. He shut his eyes, and in the darkness, he could still feel them. Their stares. Their curiosity. The way their gazes lingered longer than necessary.

They must wonder about the scar.

Grayson exhaled through his nose. He didn't care. At least, that's what he told himself.

The door creaked open behind him, breaking the moment.

Julian walked in, catching Grayson's reflection in the mirror before looking away. "Oh, hey," he said, his tone clipped as he headed toward the sink.

Grayson didn't respond immediately, watching as Julian turned on the water and began washing his hands. He looked... tense.

Grayson dried his hands on the napkin and tossed it aside before leaning slightly against the counter. "You good?" he asked, voice casual.

Julian let out a short breath. "Yeah. Just a long night."

Grayson hummed in agreement, watching him carefully. He could tell something was on Julian's mind, but he didn't push. Instead, he faked cleaning his hands, waiting for Julian to talk.

Julian dried his hands, then turned slightly to face Grayson. "You're holding up well," he said, watching him carefully.

Grayson's expression remained neutral. "Not complaining."

Julian nodded softly. "Yeah. That's the thing. It's been a long time since you complained."

Grayson didn't respond. He just held his gaze in the mirror, with a blank face.

Julian pressed on. "You haven't acknowledged Savanna."

Still, nothing. Grayson didn't flinch, didn't react.

Julian exhaled, frustration creeping into his voice. "Since the incident, you haven't acknowledged a lot of things. And I don't know why, but it's hard to watch. What did they do to you, Gray?"

Grayson's jaw clenched slightly. He bit back words that nearly spilled out, but instead, he said what he had said before. "Tried to kill me, not the first time."

Julian made eye contact, his soft blue eyes searching Grayson's face. "No," he said quietly. "They did more than that."

Grayson's fingers curled easily. Julian stepped closer. "Grayson, did they— I don't know, you can talk to me. You know."

Grayson stared at his eyes like a padlock. "I already talked." his voice was flat. No leak of anything close to emotion.

"Then why the change, so suddenly," Julian whispered. "Like you're shutting down again."

Grayson shook his head, his voice steady and distant. "If I was shutting down, I wouldn't be here. Julian."

Julian frowned, his frustration deepening. "Then what is it? Talk to me. Talk to someone. What's going on?"