"Ok I'm—SO TIRED!"

BHUG!

"SO—GODDAMN—"

BHUG!

"TIRED!"

BHUG!

Dominic slammed the bar counter again. The people around them turned to stare, but he—obviously—didn't care. The bartender chuckled, clearly used to the Drama Queen.

"She's not picking up!" Dominic groaned, voice cracking with frustration. "I was right in front of her door, man. I knocked—I knocked! And she wouldn't come out! Not even a damn—"

Suddenly straightened himself in his chair, his tone shifting to mock-seductive as he mimicked, "Hi, Dommm~ I'm sorry, I'm not in the mood today~ Can you get out of my goddamn hallway and don't come here again?"

Tyler, however, sat quietly beside him, his expression a mix of irritation and embarrassment as he sipped his vodka—rolling his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn't pop out.

"Oh, and once—" Hunt ranted on, ignoring his bro's exasperation, and a flashback played in his mind..

A pigeon, scrappy but determined, fluttered awkwardly toward your window. Its tiny claws clutched a rolled-up scroll, neatly tied with a perfectly placed red ribbon in the middle—a touch of charm Hunt had been irrationally proud of.

The bird pecked once, then again, knocking insistently on the glass as if understanding the gravity of its mission. However—

You, in your usual whirlwind energy, yanked the window open with a little too much force.

Thwack!

The pigeon's head smacked into the windowpane mid-peck, feathers flying as it squawked in indignation, the scroll slipping from its grasp and spiraling downward like some tragic, miniature theater production.

"Yeah, that one didn't work either," Hunt muttered. "That poor bird, man. AND THEN—oh, you know what she did? She slammed the door in my face! Right to my face! But you know what? That could be considered as lucky, usually she doesn't even bother opening it!"

"Life's hard, huh?"

"No shit," Hunt replied while Cavill shook his head, pouring more vodka into his bro's glass. "Thanks.." he wearily slumped over the counter—before downing his drink in one go.

"Wow, slow down, tiger. You don't gotta pull a one shot like that."

Ignoring him, he poured himself another drink. Tyler rolled his eyes and muttered, "You know, they say drinking with me is a bad idea."

"Why? Because you're a bad idea?" Hunt quipped, his tone deadpan.

"Dafuq, dude," Cavill replied, giving him a side-eye.

The two sat in silence for a moment, Tyler signaling the bartender for another round. Finally, the brokenhearted man broke the quiet.

"Sometimes I wonder.."

"What?" Tyler asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hunt hesitated, staring at his drink. "Should I.. you know, just give up?"

Tyler froze mid pour, a glimpse of hesitation flashed on his face.

"It's so tiring," Dominic continued, his voice quieter now. "This fight.. it's draining, man. I'm starting to think maybe—maybe this is pointless." He buried his head in his hand, elbow propped on the counter.

Tyler sighed deeply, leaning back in his seat. "Are you sure you wanna let her go that easily? And—what happens if you do? Can you live without her?" Tyler leaned forward, his tone softer. "You're not the only one hurting, Dom. You hurt her too."

The blonde stayed silent, gripping his glass tightly. His jaw tightened before finally exhaling a long sigh. "Yeah.. yeah, I did," he admitted.

"I'm not trying to make you feel worse," Tyler said, voice steady. "What I'm saying is, you both hurt each other. I don't know if you guys gonna continue doing that—but maybe.." Tyler paused, letting the weight of his words settle.

"Better be hurting together than hurting alone, right?"

Dominic stared at him, stunned. But then a laugh escaped his mouth—which quickly turned manic. People started glancing over, and Tyler waved them off awkwardly. "You good, man?" he asked while snatching his phone, "I'm sending Wyatt's psychiatrist number—"

"You know what's actually crazy?" Hunt eventually stopped laughing and smirked, "That you have Wyatt's therapist's number."

Busted, Tyler grinned ear to ear—but it quickly scrunched into a perfect wtf-is-wrong-with-you expression as he leaned back cautiously.

"No, it's just," he said, glancing at his bro. Swirling the liquid in his glass, Dominic's smirk slowly faltered into something more sincere. "Drinking with you is never a bad idea."

Tyler blinked, his smug grin faltering for a second before his lips twitched—and suddenly his eyes started glistening. His bottom lip quivered like he was on the verge of delivering an Oscar-worthy acceptance speech.

Leaning closer in mock concern, Hunt hesitantly squinted at him.

"Wait. A—are you crying?"

Far across the room, a group of baseball guys mingled at a corner table. Dominic was among them, laughing with his teammates, head thrown back in carefree ease.

Then he saw you.

The laughter fell away from his face as his eyes locked on your wide smile. His posture stiffened, and he began to rise, a hesitant, almost hopeful look crossing his face. But before he could stand fully, you turned.

Another figure entered behind you—a guy, tall and confident, who greeted you with an easy familiarity. You smiled at him, and Dominic froze mid-movement, slowly sinking back into his seat. His expression clouded over, the light in his eyes dimming as he watched you and the guy walk to a booth. He tried to focus on his friends' conversation, but every now and then, his gaze drifted back to you—laughing softly at something the guy said.

By the time you almost finished your ramen, a low murmur, familiar voice flew behind you. You paused, glancing over your shoulder—but there was nothing. You shook your head. Am I imagining things?

"Ready to go?" Peter asked.

You nodded, standing up to grab your things—when a waiter appeared at your table, holding a takeout bag. "Uh.." you frowned, "we didn't take out anything."

The waiter looked confused for a moment before saying, "Oh, he asked me to pack it up. Gave me a big tip to split it nicely—" the waiter gestured vaguely toward your companion when realization hit, then added, "Wait you're not—but earlier, he pointed toward here—"

You whipped your head around, briskly scanning the room, the pieces clicking into place. And as your eyes darted toward the window, you noticed a familiar crowd..

And there he was. Dominic, walking slightly apart from his friends, head down, his figure slipping into the crowd outside.

"Ren—you okay?" Peter asked again, voice concerned as he reached out to touch your hand.

You blinked, the question cutting through the fog in your mind as you realized you were already clutching the takeout bag tightly. Quickly wiping away the emotion from your face, you shook your head, forcing a faint smile. "Yeah—I'm—I'm fine," you replied, though the words came out softer than you intended.

Your fingers lingered over the two containers inside. For a moment, you stared at them, the memory hitting you like a wave. You bit the inside of your cheek to steady yourself, finally pulling out one of the containers. With a melancholic smile, you handed it to Peter. "Here," you said, the words quiet but heavy with meaning.

"You'll probably get hungry later.. at your dorm."

The guy furrowed his brows slightly, sensing the subtle shift in your tone—but you turned to the waiter, quickly thanking her.

And as you glanced back toward the window..

He was gone.

Thank you for reading! Don't forget to vote, comment, and add to your library!

Check out some additional content on social media:

Cecylia Costania @rcpcs

You can elevate your experience by also listening to songs I added to this story's playlist! I'll reveal the Playlist by the end of this story, so.. Stay Tuned!

The song that matches this Chapter's vibe:

Hunt hesitated, staring at his drink. "Should I.. you know, just give up?"

https://youtu.be/uxjhN_Donfw