Jay Jay's POV
Morning sunlight filters through curtains I don't recognize.
Wait. Curtains I don't recognize??
I jolt upright, nearly falling off the edge of the couch. My bag is still in my lap, my shoes kicked under the coffee table, and—oh my god.
I'm still in Keifer's house.
Instant panic. Instant regret. Instant "bury me alive before Kuya finds out."
Somewhere in the kitchen, I hear voices. Low. Sharp. Definitely not friendly.
The brothers.
I creep toward the doorway, every step quieter than a spy movie, and peek in—
Keifer at the counter, leaning back against it, calm as always.Keigen, pacing.Keiren, arms folded, gaze locked straight on his brother.
And the words that freeze my blood spill right out of Keigen's mouth:
"You shouldn't have brought her here."
That's Keigen. Voice sharp enough to slice an apple in half.
Keiren doesn't say anything, but his silence is worse. Like… he doesn't even need to say it. His stare says everything. Disapproval. Suspicion. Murderous older brother energy.
And Keifer? Of course, he doesn't flinch. He just takes a slow sip of water like this is some Sunday picnic and not an interrogation.
"She was being followed," Keifer says simply. "I wasn't about to let her walk home alone."
Followed.The word punches the air out of my lungs.
If they didn't hate me before, they definitely will now.
Keigen throws his hands up. "So your solution is to bring the problem here? Brilliant."
Okay RUDE. Excuse me for existing???
Keiren finally speaks, voice calm but heavier than both of theirs combined."You're drawing her into this, Keifer."
My stomach lurches. Into what???
I stumble back, accidentally bumping into the wall. LOUD. Of course. The three wolf-brothers snap their heads toward me in perfect unison.
WHAT THE FLIP!
Silence.
Then Keigen mutters, "She's hopeless."
"HEY!" I snap, puffing my cheeks like that'll help. "I'm right here!"
Keifer's lips twitch, like he's fighting a smirk. "You should eat something before you collapse, Jay."
"Kuya we are going to be late!" Keiren says as walks towards the door.
Keifer pauses by the door, glancing back. "Stay here. I'll be back after dropping them off."
I nod as they exit the house.
And just like that—slam. The door shuts. Silence.
...
Okay. Cool. Totally fine. I'm just… standing in the middle of Keifer's house. Alone.
I plop onto the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. This is fine. Normal. Casual.
Two seconds later, I'm pacing.
WHAT IF HOODIE-GUY FOLLOWED ME HERE?!
My brain: relax.My heart: ABSOLUTELY NOT.
I try distracting myself—wander into the kitchen. Big mistake. The fridge hums at me like it's plotting murder. The note stuck on the front doesn't help either:
"KEIFER: buy milk. Also stop bringing strays home." —Keigen
…EXCUSE ME??? STRAY??? I AM NOT A STRAY!!
I slam the fridge shut and stomp back to the couch, muttering, "I'm a fully functioning human being, thank you very much. With dignity. And snacks at home."
Silence answers me.
Then—creak.
The front door.
My stomach plummets. Oh god, oh god, Hoodie Guy followed me, didn't he?! I grab the nearest weapon—a TV remote.
The door swings open.
"Jay."
I nearly fling the remote at his head.
It's Keifer.
Of course. Cool as ever, like he didn't just send my heart into cardiac arrest.
He raises a brow at my "battle stance." "You planning to kill me with Netflix?"
"I—I was testing the remote's… battery life." My laugh is so fake it could win an Oscar.
Keifer closes the door behind him, steps closer. His gaze sharpens. "So. Who was following you?"
Oh no. Here we go.
He takes one slow step forward. "Jay."
OH NO. That tone again. The dangerous, calm one. Abort mission. Emergency escape. Tunnel out of the floor if I have to.
I back up until my knees hit the couch. "I told you—it was nothing!"
"You don't run like that over nothing," he says evenly. "And you don't look like you've seen a ghost unless something's wrong."
EXCUSE ME, SIR. WHO ALLOWED YOU TO READ ME LIKE A BOOK.
"Wow what do you expect me to know everything about this random person who decides to follow me!? What am I a news reporter!?" I question "Especially after the panic attack I got after seeing that idiot Yuri out of no where!?
The room feels like it drops ten degrees.
…Oh no.OH. NO.
Did I just—Did I actually just say that OUT LOUD!?
My mouth slaps shut but the damage is done. The word Yuri is already floating in the air like a neon sign, flashing Busted! Busted! Busted!
Keifer's eyes sharpen instantly. "Yuri?"
I laugh. Weak. Wobbly. The kind of laugh people make when they're already planning their own funeral playlist. "Haha—uh—did I say Yuri? Nooo. You misheard. I said… jury! Yes! Jury duty! You know, civic responsibility, serving the country—"
"Jay." His voice slices through my excuses like scissors through tissue paper.
I freeze on the couch.
"You saw him?"
My brain: LIE. SAY NO. DENY, DENY, DENY.My mouth: "...Maybe?"
OH MY GOD. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.
Keifer steps closer, crouching slightly so we're eye-level. His expression is unreadable—steady, too steady—but his eyes? They're blazing. "When."
I shrink back, clutching the couch cushion like a shield. "Yesterday? Maybe! I don't know! It could've been a tree with red leaves, okay!? Stop interrogating me like I'm in a crime show!"
He doesn't flinch. "Jay. When."
I groan, hiding my face in the pillow. "After school! I thought it was him but I wasn't sure. And then someone started following me and I panicked and—and now we're here and you're glaring and I feel like I'm about to get grounded even though you're not even my Kuya!"
Silence.
I peek through the pillow. He's still there. Still watching me. Still way too calm.
Then, finally—he sighs. Slow. Heavy. The kind of sigh that says you're driving me insane but I can't walk away.
"Jay…" His voice is quieter now. "You should've told me immediately."
I sit up, bristling. "Excuse me? And get yelled at? Or lectured? No thanks!"
Keifer's jaw tightens, but his eyes soften just a fraction. "If Yuri's involved in this, you're not safe."
My chest clenches. "He's not—he's just—he's Yuri! He wouldn't hurt me!"
Keifer leans in slightly, voice dropping. "Then why is he hiding from you?"
…
OH NO. That stung.
My throat tightens. I want to argue. I want to scream that Yuri has his reasons, that I can't just abandon him—but the words stick. Because deep down, I don't even know if that's true.
I look away, muttering, "You wouldn't understand."
For a second, silence stretches between us again. The only sound is the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen.
Then, softly but firmly, he says, "Make me understand."