Between two worlds | Chanlix

The end of my love

The estate shimmered under a canopy of stars, its grandeur amplified by the soft glow of chandeliers suspended from ornate ceilings. Guests, adorned in designer attire, meandered through the opulent halls, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of a string quartet. The scent of blooming jasmine wafted through the air, a subtle reminder of the meticulously curated gardens just beyond the grand windows.

Chan stood in a secluded corner, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. The fabric felt foreign against his skin, a stark contrast to his usual streetwear. His reflection in the gilded mirror revealed a composed exterior, but beneath the surface, a tempest brewed. Memories of Felix, of shared glances and unspoken words, surged forth, threatening to overwhelm him.

Meanwhile, Felix navigated the crowd with practiced ease, his arm linked with his wife's. Her laughter rang out, a melodic chime that drew appreciative glances from those nearby. Yet, Felix's eyes sought only one person in the room.When they finally met Chan's gaze, a jolt of electricity passed between them, momentarily grounding Felix amidst the sea of faces.

As the evening progressed, Felix's wife took to the stage, her presence commanding attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," she began, her voice smooth and confident, "it is my pleasure to introduce a performance that promises to be the highlight of our evening. Please welcome the talented Chan."

Applause erupted as Chan stepped onto the stage, the spotlight casting a halo around him. He took a deep breath, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the microphone. The first notes of his song filled the room, a haunting melody that silenced the crowd. His voice, rich with emotion, wove a tapestry of longing and heartache, each lyric a testament to love lost and memories cherished.

Felix stood motionless, the song piercing through his carefully constructed facade. Each word was a dagger, reopening wounds he had long tried to ignore. Beside him, his wife swayed gently to the music, her eyes closed, oblivious to the turmoil unraveling within her husband.

As the final note lingered in the air, the audience erupted into applause. Felix's wife approached the stage, her eyes alight with admiration. "That was breathtaking," she exclaimed, placing a hand on Chan's arm. "Your voice... it's truly captivating."

Chan offered a polite smile, his gaze flickering to Felix, who watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. "Thank you," Chan replied, his voice steady despite the storm within.

She leaned in slightly, her tone playful. "Perhaps we could collaborate on something in the future. I have some ideas that I think would suit your style."

Chan nodded, his smile tight. "Perhaps." He gently extricated himself from her grasp, murmuring an excuse about needing some air. As he walked away, the weight of the evening settled over him once more, the echoes of the song still resonating in his heart.

Felix watched him go, a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes. The performance had stirred something deep within him, a reminder of what once was and what could never be again.

The night air was a sharp contrast to the warmth inside the estate, a biting wind brushing against Chan's cheeks as he descended the marble steps of the mansion. The quiet hum of the city in the distance barely registered in his ears. His performance still rang in his blood, the emotions too raw, too exposed. He had bled himself dry in that song, and now all he wanted was to disappear.

"Chan—"

The voice stopped him in his tracks. He closed his eyes, his jaw tightening.

"Chan, wait."

He turned slowly. Felix was there, breathless, his suit slightly disheveled from chasing after him through the crowd. The usual perfection was frayed at the edges. He looked... real.

Chan said nothing. Just watched.

Felix approached cautiously, his voice low. "What was that song about?"

There was a long pause. Chan tilted his head slightly, as if considering whether it was even worth answering. Then, calmly: "Does it matter?"

Felix stepped closer. "Yes. It does."

Chan gave a tired smile, hollow and sharp at the edges. "Of course it does now, right? Now that you've heard it out loud in front of a room full of strangers. Now it suddenly means something to you."

"I need to know—" Felix began, his voice cracking just slightly.

"I want to leave the company."

The words landed like a gunshot. Felix blinked. "What?"

"I'll finish everything I owe. The projects, the album. Every deadline will be met." Chan's voice was firm, each word slicing clean. "But I can't stay."

"No," Felix said, stepping forward again, more frantic now. "You can't just—walk away. Not after everything."

"I'm tired," Chan said, eyes narrowing. "Tired of being here. Tired of the drama. Tired of you."

The air snapped between them.

Felix flinched, but didn't retreat. "You don't mean that."

Chan leaned in, close enough that their faces were nearly touching. He could feel Felix's breath—uneven, warm, trembling with something unsaid.

"I do," Chan whispered, the words slow and deliberate. "You got everything you wanted. The wife. The company. The power. There's nothing left you want from me."

Felix's eyes shimmered under the cold moonlight. His mouth opened, then closed, like he was trying to catch breath or thought. He said nothing.

Chan shook his head slowly, pain flickering across his face before he masked it. "So why don't you let me go?"

The space between them pulsed with unspoken heat, tension tight as a wire. Neither of them moved. Their proximity was suffocating, yet neither of them could pull back. A thousand memories churned in that closeness—every touch, every word, every moment that could have meant more.

Felix's lips parted, a whisper ready to leave—but Chan stepped back.

"No more," he said quietly. "You don't get to ask me to stay."

And then he turned, descending the final steps with steady, unflinching strides.

Felix stood there, frozen, feeling the empty space where Chan had been. The night around him felt colder now, too quiet. His heart was hammering in his chest with the ache of a thousand regrets.

And Chan didn't look back.