In the next morning, Zhan leaned on the cold kitchen counter with bowl of cereal in his hand as to pretending not to glance up for five seconds. Atlas sat at the bar, reading a hardcopy of thesis report with soft shift of pages.
"You...always this quiet?" Zhan asked
Atlas didn't look up.
"Only when someone's talking." He replied while reading the thesis.
Zhan blinked.
"Is that a joke?"
"Was it funny?" Atlas asked.
"Maybe...funny in group of dads." Zhan snorted.
Atlas finally looked at him, one brow raised.
"Then, it was."
Zhan gave a dry laugh and shook his head.
"You're messed up."
"You stayed." Atlas said. That shut Zhan up for a second.
Night later, it was nearly midnight.
'Tap. Tap. Tap.'
The rain had come again. Zhan tossed in the guest bed, stared at the ceiling, kicked the blanket off and pulled it back on. He can't sleep at all. He gave up and wandered toward the hallway. He saw Atlas's door was open a crack with light glowed softly from within. Zhan didn't mean to go inside, but something in him needed to know what the hell was going on in that guy's head. Then, he pushed the door open wider. He saw Atlas sat on the edge of the bed while typing on an IPad. His reaction calm as ever and no surprise in his eyes when Zhan stepped in.
"You don't lock your door?" Zhan asked.
"Don't need to." Atlas answered it right away.
Zhan exhaled and leaned on the doorframe,
"...What is this?"
Atlas tilted his head,
"This?"
Then Zhan speak,
"You and me. This whole thing. You beat the shit out of me yet I'm still here breathing. You don't talk much, but you let me stay. You don't trust me, but you don't push me out either."
Atlas looked at him steadily and sighed,
"Then, you can leave. The door's always open."
"What? Is this kind of hotel for me? I can in and out as my please?" Zhan let out a humorless laugh.
"I don't force things."
Zhan studied him. The way he sat is so still, unfazed and always in control. It made Zhan want to throw a chair at the wall just to see him flinch, but it also made him want to stay here a little longer.
"...You're weird." he muttered.
Atlas's smile didn't reach his eyes,
"I know."
Zhan left the room that night without saying goodbye or goodnight. For what? They aren't close. However, he closed the door with soft 'click' behind him.
Zhan woke up to the sound of cutlery. The apartment smelled like a toast and coffee. He rubbed his eyes and sat up on the couch because he hadn't even made it back to the guest room last night. He just passed out in front of the TV, even though he hadn't watched anything. Atlas was at the stove, stirring something in a pan. He still in a buttoned shirt with no wrinkle out of place. Then, Zhan, with no shame, dragged himself into the kitchen and dropped into a seat. Atlas glanced at him, then slid a plate over without a word.
Zhan looked down. The dish look organized with scrambled eggs, toast and a cup of tea that already poured,
"...You're not trying to poison me or anything, are you?"
Atlas calmly added sauce to his own eggs,
"You're still breathing, aren't you?
Zhan smirked, but faded as he took a bite. The food was good. Too good that annoyed him,
"I don't get you,' he mumbled between mouthfuls,
"You beat me senseless, but now you make me breakfast."
Atlas didn't look up,
"You stayed."
"Quit saying that like it explains everything!" Zhan snapped.
"Maybe it does." Atlas replied. Zhan sat back.
"Do you feel bad?"
Atlas's eyes flicked to him,
"About what?"
"About hitting me." Zhan answered. A pause and Atlas reply,
"No."
Zhan blinked.
"You're honest, I'll give you that."
"I don't do guilt," Atlas said,
"I do consequences."
"And what was my 'consequence' for?" Zhan asked while crossing his arms.
Atlas looked directly at him,
"For being cocky and careless."
Zhan opened his mouth, ready to bite back. But something about the steadiness in Atlas's gaze stopped him,
"...F-fair..." Zhan stuttered.
Later that day, Zhan stood at the window, watching the sky turn grey. He heard Atlas behind him, somewhere down the hall while talking softly on the phone. Zhan couldn't make out the words because he didn't try to peek. But hearing that voice that so smooth and cold which made something in his stomach twist. This place didn't feel like a college student's apartment. And Atlas didn't feel like a student at all. Zhan turned back to the window,
"What are you?" He murmured under his breath.
That night, there was no storm nor dramatic tension. Just the two of them in the living room, sitting apart. Zhan scrolling through his phone and Atlas reading on his IPad. The silence wasn't awkward anymore. Eventually, Zhan said,
"You ever going to tell me why you moved to this campus?"
Atlas didn't answer right away, then, he said,
"No."
Zhan looked up,
"Why not?"
"Because you haven't earned it." Atlas replied.
Zhan narrowed his eyes,
"You think this is a game?"
"No," Atlas said simply.
"But everything has levels. And right now, you're still on the first one."
Zhan let out a humorless and sharp laugh,
"You're insane."
"Possibly." He said it so dryly. Zhan couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or confession.
After that, on the midnight, he didn't sleep in the guest room. Atlas didn't say anything. He just crashed on the couch again with blanket over his legs, the soft hum of the city coming in through the glass windows. And he lay there, eyes open because wondering what kind of person let their enemy stay in their home and feeds them like nothing happened. Whatever game Atlas was playing...Zhan had stepped right into it.
Day by day, Zhan was getting bolder. Not in words, but in the way he existed in the apartment. He didn't ask anymore about the food, space or noise. He started walking barefoot through the apartment, cracking jokes even Atlas didn't give a damn about it. He leaving the bathroom door cracked open and humming while brushing his teeth. Atlas never complained, but he always watched, like he was cataloging every movement and calculating something Zhan couldn't see yet,
"You're not used to sharing, are you?" Zhan asked it casually one morning, slouched on the couch with a mug of tea in hand. Atlas didn't look up from his IPad,
"No."
Zhan grinned,
"I can tell. Everything in here is too perfect. Like a magazine ad."
"It's easier that way." Atlas replied dryly.
"Huh? What do you mean?" Zhan asked.
"Order." Atlas answer.
Zhan made a face,
"That's the most ostentatious thing I've ever heard."
Atlas finally looked at him,
"Is it wrong?"
Zhan considered.
"No...J-just...cold."
Atlas didn't argue.
That afternoon, Zhan want to get out. Said he had to meet someone from his contact.
"Where'd you keep my car key?" Zhan asked. Atlas didn't say anything, just pointed his finger to the direction where he kept the car key. He continued his reading back.
"Ah...My baby...I missed you so much..." Zhan said as he grabbed his keys, then left the apartment without offering Atlas any explanation, because he didn't have to. Atlas wasn't his mother and he didn't owe him permission. The apartment returned to its usual state, too still and quiet. And to Atlas, that silence only made him realize...he missed Zhan's noise.
He walked back to his room and glanced around. Everything was neatly in its place. Then, his eyes landed on a plushie sitting on the shelf. A soft bear, worn but carefully preserved. The kind of thing people gave in relationships, a gesture of love. But this one didn't come from a lover, because he never had one.
He stepped closer, reached out, and picked it up. His fingers brushed over the red scarf around its neck,
"How long was it..." He whispered, his voice almost too low to hear. He sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding the plushie. His grip tightened slightly,
"You said...we'd get into McGill together," a pause. His eyes dropped to the floor,
"I made it...but...you didn't." He exhaled slowly, pressing his thumb against the corner of the plushie's stitched eye. Then, the stillness shifted within him. And just like that, it all came back...
11 years ago, Atlas was on his way home after finishing school, walking cheerfully with a report card clutched in his hand,
"Mom's gonna be proud of me, hehe."
When he arrived at the house, he called out for his mother. A few moments later, she appeared at the stairs. However, she looked tired and her expression hollow due to mentally exhausted from the constant pressure of her husband's unsettled debts and the loan sharks that never left them alone. Atlas walked over and gently cupped her face, then placing a warm kiss on her forehead as he trying to distract her, to bring her back,
"Mom..." Atlas called,
"Yes, sweetheart?" She replied softly.
"Ta-daa!" He grinned while holding up his perfect grades. She chuckled, at least made her smiled for today. They shared a quiet moment of peace. Until a car pulled up outside. Her smile vanished the moment she recognized it. She gently pushed Atlas away from her hug,
"Go inside, sweetheart. Wash up."
"Aye, Captain!" He chirped and obeyed, then disappearing from her sight. Just as he vanished, the car doors opened and a few men stepped out. She narrowed her eyes,
"I told you! I'll pay the rest tomorrow." She said in tense voice.
"We don't believe you anymore, Mrs. Athena." One of the men replied coldly.
"Don't cause trouble here...my son's home." She warned.
"Oh? What does a 10 years old kid have to do with this?" The man glanced through the window and noticed the school name on the report card sitting on the table,
"The Clover School...Didn't expect you made a high-quality product between you and that bastard..." He sneered. Athena narrowed her eyes and the man continue again,
"Perhaps, hand him over and everything will be pa–"
Athena's hand shot out and slapped him,
"Don't you fucking dare touch him!"
He winced as his cheek turning red, but a sick smile curled at his lips.
'Crash!'
Athena smashed a liquor bottle and held up the jagged glass,
"Get the hell out of here!" She swung it like a blade, forcing the men to retreat.
'Thud.'
As soon as they left, Athena breathing hard and collapsed to her knees. She was shaking. Atlas, who had just finished washing up, peeked around the corner. He saw her crumbling, then he ran toward and hugged her tightly.
"You smell like a baby, sweetheart." Athena chuckled, trying to hide her tears.
"I'm not a baby!" Atlas protested with half-pouting.
"I'm sorry, sweet–"
"It's not your fault, Mom...Please don't say that," Atlas rested his head on her shoulder,
"Don't blame yourself."
The next day, like always, Atlas made his way home from school, however, today...felt off. He arrived the house, called her out,
"Mom?" No answer. He checked the kitchen. Empty. Then the living room. Nothing,
"Where'd she go...?" He murmured. Eventually, he walked to her room. He knocked gently but no response. He opened the door,
"M-mo–" His voice cut off and his heart froze. There, hanging from the ceiling fan, was his mother. Her body limp and lifeless. Atlas's world shattered. This, where his personality changed completely. Atlas stood still, unable to process what he was seeing. Slowly, he approached with his hands trembling. He untied the rope, and her body fell into his arms. He held her tightly, no tears fell. It felt like a nightmare. Then, a voice came from outside,
"Athena! Why's the door open? A neighbor woman entered,
"Athena?!" Her eyes widened in horror,
"Atlas! What happened?!" She rushed forward and checked for a pulse. Nothing. She noticed a red ligature mark circled Athena's neck,
"Atlas!!" She shouted and shoving him away. He didn't respond. The woman's panic turned to anger,
"What did you do?!"
She called the police. When they arrived, they found the scene and the boy sitting quietly in the doorway. Despite the woman's accusations, the officers quickly determined the truth. The ligature marks and positioning made it clear, it was suicide. The neighbor actually jealous of Atlas's wisdom at school that beat down her own son in the recent tests.
At the police station, a kind-faced officer sat down beside Atlas.
"Have you eaten?" He asked gently. Atlas shook his head, then the officer gave a soft smile and brought him to the cafeteria. He ordered a burger and placed it in front of him,
"Eat," he encouraged. Finally, Atlas slowly took a bite. He didn't speak and barely chewed, but he ate.
"You're Atlas, right?"
A nod.
"I read you go to Clover School. Impressive!" The officer paused and hesitating,
"Do you...want to stay at your house? Or--"
"Send me to an orphanage." Atlas said quietly.
The officer blinked,
"A-are you sure?"
"I have nobody and I don't want to stay there. 'They'...won't stop coming."
"Who?" He asked
"My father owes money. They keep coming for us."
That was all the officer needed to know. He nodded slowly and placed a comforting hand on Atlas's head.
"You're strong, Atlas."
Before leaving, the officer took Atlas back to his home one last time. To collect anything he needed. He head toward his mother's room and found an envelope on her bed. He opened it,
"Sweetheart...I'm sorry I can't stay by your side forever. I tried. But I can't take this anymore. Your father...this life...It's too much. Don't stay in this cursed house, please go the orphanage, okay, sweetheart? I love you and always will. I'm sorry. –Mom"
Atlas folded the note and slid it into his pocket. As he stepped outside, the neighbor saw him,
"You damned murderer! Get out of this place!"
The officer turned sharply and glared at her,
"That's enough." Then, he opened the door for Atlas, and the boy left without a word.
The orphanage, the building was small and simple. Cozy, in its own way. Atlas stood in front of it. Later, the matron came out to greet him with a warm smile,
"You must be Atlas?"
He gave a small nod. She was surprised by how quietly he accepted everything with no tears and no questions. Inside, the children greeted him, but Atlas ignored them all. He kept to himself, the cold and guarded expression. Until one day, a 16 years old girl walked over him,
"Hi." She said gently.
Atlas turned away. She insisted followed him,
"Are you ignoring me?"
"Don't come closer," he muttered,
"I'm a murderer."
She stunned and blinked with that childish statements,
"...I don't believe that," she said after a moment. She stepped closer. Her height easily towered his,
"No way someone that sweet could kill anyone." She smiled. That was the first time Atlas let someone in. And the only time he truly smiled again...for a long while.
Over the months, Atlas and the girl grew close. She was his first real friend in the orphanage, the one so bright, gentle, and always smiling. Where he was quiet and withdrawn, she was warm and persistent that slowly chipping away at his walls. They played together often, like playing board games, tag in the yard, and even reading books side by side. For the first time since losing his mother, Atlas felt a small kind of peace.
One afternoon, as the sun dipped behind the orphanage roof, she handed him a small plush toy, a soft bear with a red scarf,
"I got this for you," she said, beaming,
"because you're smart, Atlas. I bet one day we'll both get into McGill together!" She chuckled.
Atlas blinked,
"That's impossible for me...and...we're six years apart."
She rolled her eyes and giggled,
"Hahaha! That doesn't matter, silly. If your brain's ahead of the rest of us, we'll get there together. Age doesn't define everything." Then, she held the plushie out to him, her voice softer now,
"And this...it's a promise."
Atlas took the plushie carefully, like it meant more than just a toy. He looked at her then smiled faintly,
"...It's a promise!" He said while reaching out his pinky. She grinned and linked her pinky with his. A quiet vow that made in the afternoon sun.
But the promise never had the chance to bloom. Not long after a tragedy struck. That time, they were walking back from the nearby store. She was just a few steps ahead of him, laughing at something he said. Then...
'Screeching.'
A flash of metal.
'Impact!'
She was thrown violently to the ground. Her body motionless. A pool of blood spread beneath her. Atlas froze, his world suddenly silent, like time itself had stopped. He couldn't move, couldn't scream, but just watched while still holding his 'promise' tightly. Once again...someone he cared about was taken from him, and something inside him, something soft has shut down all over again.
The past dissolved in his mind, just as the door clicked open. Zhan had returned after being out for a few hours,
"Aha! Good thing I remembered your passkey, bastard!" Zhan called out as he pushed the door open with smug satisfaction in his voice, however, a strange silence met him. The hallway was dim and the air felt heavier. He stepped into the living room and paused after saw Atlas was sitting on the windowsill, not doing anything, but just staring outside, like he'd frozen there.
Zhan frowned and ask him,
"...You...good?"
Atlas turned slowly to look at him,
"Did you bring food?"
Atlas's expression didn't change. Zhan set the takeout down on the counter. He had brought it even though Atlas never asked before he left,
"The hell were you doing just now?" Zhan asked.
"Thinking." Atlas replied.
"About what?"
A pause, then Atlas said,
"You."
Zhan's pulse stuttered, but he covered it with a scoff,
"What...? Planning your next move? Trying to guess when I'll snap and throw a chair at you?"
"No," Atlas said,
"Wondering how long you'll stay...before you realize you can't unsee me."
That shut Zhan up. For a few seconds, all he could hear was the city beyond the glass,
"You think you've ruined me?" Zhan snapped.
"No," Atlas said softly,
"but I'm not done yet."
Zhan didn't know what to say to that, so he walked away, but the truth was he hadn't gone to meet anyone that afternoon. He'd just needed to breathe the fresh air outside the apartment that is not sure either it's a hell or a heaven. And when he stepped back into the apartment...he'd realized something terrifying. He missed it. He missed the hell Atlas brought with him.
To be continue...