Jayjay's POV
The water is warm.
Too warm—like it's trying to soften something that refuses to bend.
I sink lower into the bathtub, shoulders slipping beneath the surface, knees pulled to my chest. The bathroom lights are off. Only the small lamp near the mirror glows faintly, casting shadows that stretch and blur against marble walls.
This is how I always do it.
Dark. Quiet. Alone.
My forehead rests against the edge of the tub, hair damp, breath shallow. I stare at nothing and let everything come anyway.
The first tear slips before I can stop it.
Then another.
I don't sob. I never do.
I cry the way I've learned to—silently, efficiently, like it's another task I have to finish before morning.
Because no matter how powerful I am to the world…Nights still know my weakness.
Loneliness settles in my chest, familiar and sharp. It doesn't scream. It waits.
And like it always does—
It brings him with it.
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FLASHBACK- Seven Years Ago — HVIS, After Graduation
We didn't fight.
That's the cruel part.
There was no shouting. No dramatic goodbye. No slammed doors.
Just silence.
Graduation day had been loud—cheers, cameras, laughter, promises whispered like they'd last forever. Keifer's hand had been in mine that day, fingers warm, grip steady.
"You and me," he'd said."Always."
I believed him.
Then the next day came.
And the next.
Messages I sent stayed unread longer than usual. Calls rang out instead of being answered. When he did reply, his words were short. Careful. Distant.
Busy.Later.We'll talk.
A week passed like that.
Seven days of confusion.Seven nights of staring at my phone, pretending I wasn't waiting.
I told myself he needed space. That something was wrong at home. That he trusted me enough not to explain everything right away.
I trusted him.
That was my mistake.
The Eighth Day:
I found out by accident.
I wasn't supposed to be there. HVIS was almost empty—summer break had started, halls stripped of noise and life. I'd gone back to collect a book I'd left behind. Something meaningless.
That's when I heard voices.
His voice.
Keifer's.
I stopped without thinking, heart stuttering when I recognized the sound. Relief washed through me first—irrational, stupid relief.
Then I heard the other voice.
A girl's.
Soft. Familiar.
Too close.
I didn't move. I didn't breathe. The corridor felt narrower, the air heavier.
"I told you," she said, almost pleading. "She doesn't need to know yet."
Keifer didn't answer immediately.
That pause—
It shattered something in me.
"I never meant for it to go this far," he finally said. "But things are complicated."
Complicated.
My fingers curled into fists.
"So what are you going to do about Jay?" the girl asked.
My name sounded wrong in her mouth.
Another pause.
Then—
"I'll handle it."
That was it.
No defense.No denial.No she matters.
Just I'll handle it.
I walked away before they could see me. Before my legs gave out. Before the world collapsed completely.
I don't remember how I got home.
I remember locking the door.
I remember sliding down against it.
I remember my hands shaking so badly I couldn't even type.
Then, The Confrontation That Never Happened
He never came.
I waited for an explanation that night.
Then the next.
Then nothing.
Not a message.Not a call.Not even a lie to soften the truth.
He disappeared from my life the same way people always had—
Quietly. Completely. Like I was something he could erase.
That was the betrayal.
Not the girl.Not the secret.
The abandonment.
----- FLASHBACK ENDS-----------------
A sharp breath escapes me in the bathtub.
My chest tightens, and suddenly I realize my face is wet—not just from steam.
Tears are sliding down without permission, dripping into the water that hides how badly I'm breaking.
"Idiot," I whisper to myself.
I press my palm over my mouth to keep the sound in.
I don't cry because I miss him.
I cry because I loved him honestly.
Because I gave him the parts of me the world never touched.
Because he left without looking back.
The water has started to cool.
I sit up slowly, wiping my face, grounding myself in the present—the marble, the silence, the control I rebuilt with bloodless hands and iron will.
That girl from HVIS is gone.
She didn't survive the week.
I drain the tub, step into the shower, let the water wash away whatever's left clinging to me. When I step out, my face is calm again. Empty. Perfect.
The mask fits easily now.
I slip into bed minutes later, lights off, body heavy, mind finally quiet.
Sleep comes—not gently, but eventually.
And somewhere between dreams and darkness, one thought lingers:
He doesn't get to break me again.