4 X 7 Dreams

Act 2, Scene 4

He becomes so preoccupied with trying to figure out who he is that he completely misses it.

He only realizes when he receives his schedule for the upcoming month and reads over it. "I'm not seeing P'Singto at all?"

Yui points the end of her pen at a day. "You might run into him here. But if all goes to plan, it should be fine."

"I—I don't understand," Krist says, eyes raking over the dates. "Won't it look weird to just never be seen with him again?"

Yui's brows knit together as she turns fully to him, lifting the pen to her lips. "Krist," she begins, "it's been two weeks at least since the last time you've seen him."

Krist blinks. Looks at the calendar in his hands. The clock on the wall. Back to Yui. "I'm sorry," he says. "What?" Surely it hasn't been a month since he left Singto alone in his apartment. His fingers tighten their grip on the paper. The last time he'd seen Singto... was walking past him in the hallway at a studio. Singto had an interview right after him. Krist had opened his mouth to say something to him, anything, but Yui had already reached the end of the hall and was waiting on him impatiently. Meanwhile, the moment Singto's eyes met Krist's, they were quick to flit away, the elder walking past him, stone-faced and cold.

The next thing Krist knows, his schedule is on the floor, and his hands are coming up to cover his eyes. Tears are already leaking out. A choked noise comes out of his throat when he tries to talk. He sucks in a breath and tries again, hands still over his eyes. "I'm sorry," he tells his manager. "I need a moment."

And then he's running, leaving the schedule on the floor and wiping furiously at his eyes to get the tears to stop falling.

He'd managed to avoid the issue for so long, but it seems now he's finally reached the confrontation.

As soon as he gets back to his apartment, he slams the door shut and locks it quickly, pressing his back flat to it in order to get in a breath. Once his breathing is settled, he looks around. It looks exactly the same as he left it this morning. The bed is left unmade, one of his shirts is thrown haphazardly across it, and the remnants of his breakfast are still on the table. He takes another breath.

The room feels stagnant. Everything feels stagnant.

Krist slides down the door, coming to sit on the floor.

The tears have slowed, but the pain is still evident, making his heart throb and his throat feel tight. He closes his eyes.

Why are you crying? Krist buries his face in his knees. You hurt him. Not the other way around. Why are you crying?

Krist sucks in a shuddering breath before wiping aggressively at his eyes and stretching his legs out on the floor. He takes a few more breaths, trying to calm himself down.

"Water," he says aloud. "I should drink something."

So he goes, gets a glass of water, drinks it, and immediately the tears start coming again.

"This is so stupid," he whispers angrily to himself. "I'm so stupid."

He sits down where he is.

Why are you crying?

No one hears from him for the rest of the day.