The Five Realms

Chapter 15: Joey IV

Flames of Regret

Joey stood there, surrounded by his friends and family, the intense heat of the lava slowly fading into the background as the weight of his lies pressed in on him. He had survived the unthinkable, emerging from molten lava unscathed, but the cost of that survival had now come crashing down on him. The looks on their faces were a mixture of shock, disbelief, and betrayal.

His mother's glare, in particular, was a force to be reckoned with. Her anger wasn't loud—it was controlled, cold, and that made it even worse. Joey had always known his mother could be stern, but this was different. This was the look of someone who felt deeply hurt, betrayed by the very person she had raised.

"Explanation. Now." Her voice cut through the silence like a blade, and Joey swallowed hard.

He tried to force a smile, one of those disarming grins that usually worked when he found himself in trouble, but it didn't reach his eyes. No one was laughing, and Joey realized he couldn't charm his way out of this. His mother wasn't amused. His sister Chyna, with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, looked ready to tear into him at any moment. Steven, his best friend, looked more curious than angry, but there was something in Steven's eyes that hinted at his own hurt. And then there was Beanca, standing off to the side, her expression unreadable. But Joey could sense the storm of emotions brewing just below the surface. She wasn't just angry—she felt betrayed, and that realization hit Joey harder than anything else.

With a deep breath, Joey tried to figure out where to start. How could he even begin to explain something he had kept hidden for so long?

"It started when I was four," Joey finally said, his voice quieter than usual. He forced himself to look at his mother, knowing she deserved at least that much. "Dad was the first one to know. I didn't want to hide it from you. I didn't want to hide it from anyone, but... I had to."

He paused, trying to gauge their reactions, but their expressions remained fixed, waiting for him to continue. He could feel the heat of their judgment, almost as palpable as the lava he had just walked out of.

---

It had been during a family camping trip in Georgia. Joey remembered the crackling of the fireplace inside the small cabin they had rented. It was one of those cold, wintry nights where the warmth of the fire was comforting, not dangerous. He had been playing on the floor with his toy rockets, lost in his own world, when his favorite toy car had rolled too close to the hearth and, before he could grab it, it slipped into the fire.

"Daddy!" he had called, his small voice tinged with the frustration of losing something precious.

His father, caught up in conversation with his mother, hadn't responded right away. So, without thinking, Joey had crawled closer to the fire. As the flames licked at the toy car, Joey's childish impatience got the better of him. He reached for the car, his tiny hand sliding into the fire without a second thought.

There was no pain.

In fact, the fire felt strangely pleasant, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. Joey, wide-eyed with wonder, had stepped fully into the flames, completely unscathed. He didn't understand what was happening, only that it felt like a magical moment—a secret between him and the fire.

That was when his father had shouted his name, a sound of pure panic.

"Josef!!"

Joey had turned, holding the melted toy in his hands, confused about why his father was so upset. "Daddy, my car's broken," he had said innocently, presenting the molten remains like it was still a toy that could be fixed.

His father had been horrified, scooping Joey out of the fire and rushing him outside into the snow, frantically checking his skin, his hands, his face—every inch of him for burns that never came. The snow melted instantly upon touching Joey's skin, evaporating into the air in a sizzling cloud of steam.

Joey had been confused. His father had been terrified. And that was the first time Joey had understood that there was something different about him, something he wasn't supposed to talk about.

---

"After that," Joey continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "Dad made me promise not to tell anyone. Not even you, Mom."

His mother's face was a mask of hurt, disappointment, and something deeper—betrayal. Joey wished she would say something, anything, but the silence was worse than any reprimand.

Chyna, however, had no such hesitation. "So, what, you just... kept it from us? From me?" Her voice was sharp, accusatory. "All these years, Joey, and you never thought to say *anything*? Not a word?"

Joey winced. Chyna had always been the one he looked up to. Her approval had meant everything to him growing up, and now, the hurt in her eyes felt like a dagger to his chest.

"I wanted to tell you, Chy. I did, but I couldn't. Dad made me swear, and—"

"Dad's gone, Joey!" she cut in, her voice shaking with emotion. "He's gone, and you still didn't tell me. You told Steven before me." Her voice broke slightly, and Joey saw the tears welling up in her eyes, though she was doing her best to hold them back.

"I didn't want to hurt you," Joey said, his own voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. "I didn't know how to tell you, and then it was too late. I thought if I could just... I don't know, protect you from it, maybe it wouldn't matter."

"But it does matter," Chyna said, her voice softer now, but no less hurt. "You've been lying to all of us. Do you know how that feels?"

Joey couldn't answer. He didn't know what to say. All he could feel was the suffocating guilt that had been building inside him for years. Chyna turned away from him, wiping her eyes angrily as she walked a few paces away from the group.

Steven stepped forward, finally breaking his silence. "So you've known you were fireproof for what, your whole life? Why didn't you say something? You know, before you decided to take a dive into lava?" His tone was light, almost teasing, but Joey could hear the undertone of real concern there.

"I didn't exactly plan to take a swim in molten lava," Joey said with a weak smile, though it didn't last long. "And yeah, I've known. I've had to hide it, though. I couldn't just go around telling people."

Steven nodded, but his expression remained serious. "I get it. But still, you could've told me earlier, man. You're my best friend. I would've understood."

"I know," Joey said, his chest tightening. "I should've told you, but... I didn't want anyone to look at me differently. I just wanted to be normal, you know?"

Steven gave him a sad smile, shaking his head. "Joey, we've been through a lot of weird stuff together. Normal doesn't really apply to us anymore."

Joey chuckled softly, appreciating the attempt at levity. But the truth was, Steven was right. Normal had stopped being an option a long time ago.

Then there was Beanca. Joey could feel her eyes on him, and when he finally looked in her direction, the depth of her hurt was more than he could handle. She hadn't said a word, but she didn't need to. The betrayal was written all over her face. He had lied to her too, and that wound ran even deeper than the others.

"Bea," he started, his voice faltering. He didn't know how to fix this, how to explain to her why he hadn't been honest with her when she had always been there for him.

But Beanca didn't respond. She just stared at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of anger and sadness. And that silence was worse than any words she could have thrown at him.

---

As the group continued their journey, Joey felt the weight of his lies growing heavier with each step. He had survived the lava, but he wasn't sure if he could survive the fallout from his own actions.