"Are you okay?"
Ken asked curiously, his voice laced with concern as he watched the color drain from Emily's face.
"Emm... ah... I'm... I'm fine," she stammered, turning around and walking away before he could ask anything else. She knew Mikael had a complicated history with his heart—he had been in relationships with both boys and girls before her—but she never imagined he would have moved on so completely.
"Wow... that was strange," Ken muttered to himself, watching her go. He didn't have time to dwell on it; he had to find Mikael.
He asked around the department until a student pointed him toward the restrooms. As he pushed the heavy door open, the sound of rushing water echoed against the tiles. He walked slowly toward the back, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Mikael... are you there?"
"Yeah."
Mikael's voice was low, shaky, and barely audible over the spray. Ken rounded the corner and let out a breath of relief to see Mikael was dressed, but his heart sank immediately after. Mikael was sitting on the floor of the shower stall, fully clothed, the water drenching his designer shirt.
"Are you okay?" Ken asked softly.
Mikael looked up, his eyes wide and unfocused. He tried to draw a breath, but it came out in a jagged, hitching sob. He couldn't speak; he just shook his head, signaling that he was drowning in his own mind.
"What's wrong?"
"I can't... I can't... I can't breathe," Mikael managed to choke out.
Ken didn't hesitate. He reached in and shut off the water, then squatted directly in front of Mikael.
"Are you having a panic attack?" Ken asked. Mikael nodded frantically. "Okay. Here, hold my hands." Ken stretched his hands forward, and Mikael gripped them with a strength born of pure terror. "Look at me! Look at my eyes, Mikael."
Mikael struggled, his gaze darting around the room, but finally, he locked onto Ken.
"Follow my breathing. In... and out. In... and out."
Slowly, the rhythm took hold. The hitching in Mikael's chest subsided, and the frantic light in his eyes dimmed. Ken leaned forward and pulled the shivering, soaked boy into a tight hug.
"It's alright, bae. You're fine now... you're fine."
Outside, Emily reached her car and slammed the door shut. The silence of the vehicle was suddenly pierced by her own sobbing. She had kept herself for him. She had waited six years, holding onto every promise and every vow they had made under the stars.
"How could he do this?" she gasped, clutching the steering wheel. "I gave up everything for us to be together, and he just forgot me? Now he's dating someone younger... a boy. All our promises... he ignored them like they meant nothing."
She choked on her own tears, her grief curdling into a dark, sharp anger. "I hate you, Mikael... I hate you!" she screamed, the sound echoing in the small space of the car.
Back in the restroom, Ken helped Mikael stand. He looked visibly weak, his skin pale and his limbs heavy. As they walked toward the parking lot, Lucien watched them through the tinted glass of his SUV.
"It seems so much happened in a day," Lucien murmured. He looked down at a tablet in his hand, which displayed a live feed of the restroom and the hallway. The entire faculty was wired with hidden cameras, and Hades had every frame at his disposal.
When they reached Mikael's SUV, Mikael leaned heavily against the door. "Can you drive, please?" he whispered, handing over the keys.
Ken wasn't an expert, but he had practiced enough to be steady. He helped Mikael into the back seat and drove the long, slow journey to the Newman estate.
When they arrived, a text to the head butler brought help immediately. Ken watched as the butler assisted a shivering Mikael into the house. He felt heartbroken. They had just fixed their relationship, and now this. He handed the keys to the butler and turned to leave.
As he walked down the driveway, a car passed him. Emily was inside. She watched Ken walk away from the massive, luxurious Newman mansion and felt a fresh sting of bitterness.
Wait, that's the kid from school, she thought. His family must be filthy rich if he lives here. How can I compete with that? She pulled into the driveway of her own apartment building—the one she didn't realize was right next door to Mikael's. By the time she stepped out, Ken was already gone, having flagged down a cab to make it to his shift at the restaurant.
She stared at the sprawling Newman estate, wiping the tears from her face. "Maybe it's because we're from different worlds," she whispered. "I wish I had those privileges. Maybe we would have stayed together."
Ken arrived at the restaurant in a blur, quickly changing into his uniform.
"You're late," Amy said, not looking up from the shelf she was stocking.
"I'm sorry... Mikael had a panic attack. He wasn't doing well; I had to drive him home."
"A panic attack? Why?" Amy asked, just as Laura sprinted out of the kitchen, her eyes wide.
"Who had a panic attack?" Laura demanded.
"It was Mikael," Ken explained, his voice low. "I found him in the bathroom with the shower running, fully clothed. He was pale and shaking. I'm afraid he's going to catch a cold."
"That's strange," Amy said, leaning against the counter. "What triggered it?"
"I don't know," Ken replied. "He was fine in the morning. We were making lunch plans." He paused, his mind flashing back to the blonde girl. "Wait... there was a new student. She kept asking me about him. Her reaction to my answers was... off."
"Off how?" Amy asked.
"Never mind. I'm probably overthinking it," Ken said, trying to shake the feeling. "She might just be curious because she's new. Anyway, I want to go see him tomorrow morning."
Amy and Laura exchanged a look—the kind of look friends give when they see a storm brewing that the person involved is blind to. But they said nothing as Ken went to attend to his customers.
At midnight, Ken finished his shift at the Black Bull. He checked his phone and saw a message from Mikael sent hours earlier.
"Sorry, bae, I have to go to bed early. I think I caught a fever."
Ken felt a surge of panic. He had been working since 8:00 PM and hadn't seen the text. He wanted to call, but he didn't want to wake him if he was ill. He texted back: "Alright, bae. Please take care of yourself. Good night."
Ken didn't sleep. He tossed and turned, his mind filled with images of Mikael shivering under the water. At daybreak, he dressed quickly and headed to the Newman residence.
He stood before the massive front door, took a deep breath, and knocked. The door swung open, and instead of the butler or Mikael, he was met with the cold, aristocratic gaze of Mikael's mother—Sara Newman.