Chapter 8: The Breaking Point

Shin rounded the corner, his steps faltering as he saw them. Xander and Ethan. They were sitting on a bench near the fountain, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Xander was laughing, his head thrown back, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Ethan was smiling at him, a look of… admiration? Affection? Shin couldn't quite decipher it, but it sent a jolt of pure, visceral jealousy through him.

He wanted to turn away, to pretend he hadn't seen them. He wanted to maintain the facade of cool indifference he’d been so carefully cultivating. But he couldn't. He was drawn to them, like a moth to a flame, even though he knew he was going to get burned.

He pretended to be engrossed in his phone, scrolling through his feed, but his eyes kept drifting back to them. He could hear their voices, snippets of conversation that pierced through the noise of the bustling courtyard.

“…he’s here,” Ethan was saying. “You should take this chance to impress him.”

Shin’s blood ran cold. He’s here? Who was he? Was it the same person Xander had been seeing all along? Or was it someone new? Someone even more threatening?

Xander fidgeted, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Ethan. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be,” Ethan encouraged. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

Shin’s grip tightened on his phone. Be yourself? Was that what Xander was doing with this he? Being his true, authentic self, the self he refused to show Shin?

A wave of anger washed over him, hot and blinding. He felt like he was being mocked, played for a fool. He’d been trying so hard to be understanding, to be supportive, to be the best friend Xander needed. And this was how he was repaid? With secrets, with lies, with… betrayal?

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control the rage that was building inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. It’s okay, Shin. It’s just friendly jealousy. But the lie felt hollow, even to him.

He opened his eyes, and his gaze fell on a nearby table. A glass of juice sat there, unattended. He walked over to it, his movements stiff, robotic. He picked it up, his knuckles white.

He watched Xander and Ethan, their heads close together, their laughter echoing in the air. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, a burning sensation that threatened to consume him. He could feel his control slipping, his carefully constructed facade crumbling.

He raised the glass, his hand trembling. He stared at the vibrant red liquid, a stark contrast to the darkness that was swirling inside him. And then, in a moment of blind rage, he slammed the glass down on the table.

The glass shattered, the juice splashing across the table, shards of glass flying in all directions. The sudden noise startled Xander and Ethan, their conversation abruptly cut short. They turned to look at Shin, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern.

Shin stared back at them, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. The broken glass, the spilled juice, the raw, unfiltered anger radiating from him, spoke volumes. He turned and walked away, leaving them staring after him, the shattered remnants of his carefully constructed composure lying scattered on the ground, just like the broken glass.

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