Staff Restroom – Ice
Thankfully, the staff restroom was empty. Ice was grateful for that much.
He set the phone down on the sink with a loud click. Not hard enough to break it, but sharp enough to echo his frustration. A groan slipped out before he could stop it, low and ragged. His hands raked through his hair, tugging at the strands until the sting in his scalp snapped him back.
The mirror caught him—his own reflection glaring back with hollow eyes. The sight embarrassed him. He turned away.
What the hell was that?
No answer. Of course not. There never was.
He looked again, shaking his head at the stranger in the glass.
But why… why was she talking to him?
That was the reason his body moved on its own, why he'd rushed straight to her.
Her ridiculousness, her impulsiveness, it provoked him so badly he lost control. Yesterday was one thing, but another call today? And asking about flowers, restaurants… things clearly meant for a girl.
His stomach twisted. He leaned against the cold sink, trying to ground himself, but the anger made him lightheaded.
And yet that stupid walking disaster was willing to help him? Unbelievable.
Ice slicked his hair back, forcing himself to meet his reflection. His jaw was tight.
What do we do now…?
Riiiing.
The phone lit up beside his arm.
Incoming call: Blazey Ace
With a heart on the end of his name made his blood boil at a higher temperature.
His face filled the screen—bright smile, casual barefaced selfie. Personalized. Mocking.
Logic screamed not to answer. It wasn't his phone. Even in his anger, he couldn't invade Fire's space.
But the image flashed again. And again. Each time it lit, it burned.
Memories surged—the endless feed of Ace with his new girlfriend, not even a month after breaking Fire's heart. The comments, the ridicule, strangers sneering about his "pathetic ex."
And Fire. Curled up in her room, floral dress crumpled around her as she sobbed into the night.
His grip on the phone tightened. He wanted to hurl it, smash it—but it was hers. Always hers.
"Hello, Flamemy?"
The voice cut through, too cheerful, too warm. It sounded like hers—and that only made it worse. His chest boiled with heat.
"You dropped the call so suddenly, anything wrong?"
Every word grated, pulling tighter at the knot in his throat. His fist clenched, trembling.
"Flamemy?"
The heat inside him surged, pressing hard against his ribs. He forced it down, swallowing the rage.
"Hello?"
The door swung open.
"Ice? Anything wrong, baby boy?"
His mother.
In an instant, he shoved the phone into his pocket and turned to her, his voice even. "Nothing, ma."
"Oh, the delivery's here. Can you take care of that?" She smiled, pointing toward the back door.
"Of course, ma."
Next chapter: All I wanted was to go home and sulk… but no, Ice had to show up, return my phone, mumble an apology—AND delete Ace's number! Now he's running off like a guilty thief, and I'm chasing after him in heels, swearing revenge.