Chapter 4:
The Sky That Lost Its North Star

The flight to Barcelona was quiet - too quiet. Ralph Aboitiz stared out the window at the clouds passing beneath them, his jaw set tight. His youngest brother, Jace, had finally found his peace. But his second brother? Wayne was unraveling.

The headlines had been blowing up his phone all week.

PILOT PLAYBOY - WAYNE ABOITIZ SPOTTED WITH THIRD MODEL IN FOUR DAYS
WORLD-RENOWNED WOMANIZER BACK AT IT AGAIN - WHO'S NEXT?
PARTY ANIMAL PILOT - IS THIS THE REAL HIM OR JUST A SMOKESCREEN?

Ralph knew. He knew Wayne better than anyone. This wasn't him. Wayne was the steady one. The calm one. The one who loved once, quietly, and never looked anywhere else. But something had broken that night at the engagement party. And now? He was trying to burn himself out to forget.



The penthouse was nothing short of a palace in the sky - glass walls stretching floor to ceiling, offering a sweeping, panoramic view of Barcelona's glittering night lights, the city spilling out like a sea of diamonds beneath them. An infinity pool shimmered along the terrace edge, its deep blue water catching the warm amber glow of designer pendant lights, turning the surface into something that looked like liquid starlight. The floors were polished marble, the furniture sleek and imported, the air thick with the scent of expensive champagne, roasted espresso, and fresh white roses arranged in crystal vases on every surface.

But for all its luxury, the place felt empty. Like a stage set - beautiful, but hollow.

Music thumped through hidden speakers - deep bass, vibrating through the glass, loud enough to drown out any thought. Everywhere you looked: crystal trays stacked with premium cigars, bottles of vintage whiskey and Dom Pérignon lining the bar like gold bars, waiters in tailored black suits weaving through the crowd with silver platters. Beautiful people - models, socialites, actors - laughing too loud, drinking too fast, touching too freely, all of them here for the spectacle, the status, the name on the lease.

And at the center of it all - Wayne.

He was leaning against the railing of the pool terrace, shirt unbuttoned, whiskey in one hand, a blonde woman pressed close to him. He kissed her like he was trying to erase a memory - hungry, desperate, empty. Around them, glasses clinked, voices rose, lights shifted - a kaleidoscope of wealth and noise, all paid for, all arranged, all perfectly designed to make sure silence never stood a chance.

Ralph stepped out onto the terrace, his shadow falling across the marble floor. The luxury didn't impress him. He was looking past the champagne, past the pool, past the woman in his brother's arms - straight to the man who was drowning in plain sight.

"Wayne."

It wasn't a question. It was a warning - the voice of the eldest brother, the one who had watched over them since they were small.

Wayne pulled back slowly, his eyes glazed, his smile lazy and sharp all at once. "Kuya," he drawled, lifting his glass in a mock toast. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Here to add another headline to the collection?"

The blonde looked between them, confused. Ralph didn't even glance at her. His eyes stayed locked on his brother - seeing past the expensive suit, past the whiskey, past the hollow smile - straight to the wreckage underneath.

"Leave us," Ralph said to her, calm but firm.

She hesitated, then shrugged and melted back into the crowd. When they were alone, the glass doors clicked shut behind her, muffling the music. Silence settled between them - heavy, thick, charged.

Ralph leaned against the railing beside him, not looking at him, but looking out at the city lights stretching out below.

"Mother saw the news," Ralph said quietly. "She's already arranging a dinner with the family of that Spanish heiress next week. She thinks... she thinks you need to be settled. Tamed."

Wayne laughed - a short, bitter sound. "Let her. At least she's not asking me to marry someone I've loved since kindergarten who's already promised to someone else."

Ralph turned to look at him then, really look at him - at the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hand trembled slightly around his glass, the emptiness in his face that no amount of parties could fill.

"You think this is helping?" Ralph asked, his voice steady but laced with something sharp - sorrow. "Drinking. Women. This... palace of noise. You think drowning yourself in all of it will make the silence go away?"

Wayne took a long drink, not answering. He set the glass down on the marble ledge, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a sleek silver lighter. The flame flickered to life, casting warm, shifting shadows across his face - the red-gold glow catching the sharp line of his jaw, the dark hair falling over his eyes. He brought it to his lips, inhaling slow and deep, holding the smoke in his lungs as if trying to burn away the ache, before letting it drift slowly from his mouth into the cool night air.

"Because it won't," Ralph continued. "I saw her, Wayne. After the party."

At the name, everything stopped.

Wayne's fingers tightened around the cigarette until his knuckles turned white. The ash fell away, unnoticed, scattering across the cool marble. His eyes closed for a heartbeat, then opened - darker, sharper, burning with something raw. The smoke curled jaggedly from his lips, the ember glowing bright red in the dim light, matching the fire suddenly returning to his veins.

"Saw who?" His voice came out lower, rougher - stripped of all its earlier mockery, all its lazy indifference.

"Astrid." Ralph said the name gently, like he was handling something fragile. "3 AM. On the side of the road. Drunk, crying so hard she could barely stand. Cassia and Azrael had to carry her to the car."

Wayne stared at him, eyes wide and unblinking, the cigarette hanging forgotten between his fingers, the smoke rising thin and steady between them. "She was probably just... celebrating."

"No." Ralph shook his head. "A woman who's happy doesn't say she has no home to go back to. A woman who's getting everything she wants doesn't break like her whole world has ended."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that serious, brotherly tone that had always meant listen closely.

"You walked away thinking she chose him freely. That she didn't love you enough to stay. But I saw her, brother. She wasn't celebrating a wedding. She was mourning a life she never got to have."

Wayne set his cigarette down on the ledge, pressing it into the marble until it died out, leaving a dark mark. His hands were shaking now - not from the whiskey, not from the cold - from the realization that everything he had believed for the past week was a lie.

"What are you saying?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm saying - you were wrong." Ralph's eyes held his, steady and unflinching. "She didn't let you go because she didn't want you. She let you go because she thought she wasn't good enough for you. That she would just be a burden - dragging you down. She thought she didn't deserve someone like you. And she loved you too much to let you ruin your life for hers."

Wayne went pale. "She... she said nothing. She just... stood there."

"Because she thought it was noble," Ralph said softly. "She thought she was saving you. But what did she save you from, Wayne? You're here. In this glass palace. Drinking yourself numb. Party after party. Strangers in your arms. You're flying everywhere but where your heart is - and you don't even know it's waiting for you."

The silence stretched between them, long and painful. Wayne closed his eyes, every memory hitting him at once - the way she looked at him on the terrace, the words she almost said, the hand that reached out and then fell back to her side.

She didn't reject him.
She protected him.
And he walked away thinking he wasn't enough.

"Six days," Wayne whispered, opening his eyes - and they were burning. "The wedding is in six days."

"Then you have six days to learn the rest of the story," Ralph said, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Before you spend the rest of your life believing a lie. And before she marries a stranger thinking it's the only way to set you free."

Ralph turned to leave, but paused at the glass doors, looking back - the eldest brother, watching over the one who had always been the quietest, the most broken.

"Don't let her sacrifice be for nothing, Wayne. She gave up her whole life... so you could be free. Don't waste that freedom wondering what happened."

And with that, Ralph was gone - leaving Wayne alone on the terrace, the infinity pool glowing beside him, the city lights blurring behind a wall of tears he wouldn't let fall. He picked up the cigarette again, rolling it between his fingers, the ember flaring one last time before he crushed it out completely.

She loved him back.
She loved him first.
And she let him go to save him.

Wayne gripped the marble railing until his fingers ached. Somewhere, six days away, the woman he loved was walking toward a cage - thinking it was the only way to give him wings.

He had never felt less free in his life.

And for the first time in ten years... he knew exactly where he needed to fly.