The moment Flynn stepped out of Dylan's aunt's building, he headed straight for home. Jennifer had tried to stop him earlier, wanting to talk about what happened inside the room, but Flynn didn't let her stop him. He simply bowed slightly and murmured that he needed to go.
Flynn walked in a daze, eyes still red and swollen from crying. Dylan's words echoed in his mind, sharp and unrelenting. He never imagined Dylan would say something like that to him. Then he remembered the things he had said, how he pushed Dylan away that day without letting him explain.
"So this is how it feels," Flynn whispered to himself, voice barely audible. He didn't know where he was going anymore. He just kept walking, letting his feet drag him wherever they wanted.
He only snapped out of his thoughts when he suddenly stopped in front of a convenience store. Hanging outside were bags of ready-made cotton candy, swaying lightly in the breeze. But what truly caught his attention was the soft music drifting from the store's radio—Can't Help Falling in Love.
A familiar ache twisted in Flynn's chest.
He remembered all those nights Dylan would bother him, insisting Flynn sing him this song to sleep. And all those afternoons when Dylan would cling to him out of boredom, asking for attention in that annoying, persistent way of his.
It hit Flynn then... maybe he really did misunderstand Dylan's sincerity. Maybe Dylan meant every single thing he ever said.
The store owner, an elderly man, noticed Flynn staring blankly at the display outside. Thinking the boy wanted to buy something, he stepped forward.
"Son, would you like some cotton candy?" the old man asked kindly.
Flynn blinked, snapping out of his trance. "Ah—no, sir. I was just... looking." He bowed his head slightly, then quickly walked away.
---
It was almost ten in the evening when Dylan finally arrived home. He headed straight to his room, sat at his desk, and pulled out his school things. That was when he noticed the notebook their class representative had handed him—the ones Dylan had completed for him. He stared at it for a long time, unmoving.
Meanwhile, Lucas had noticed that Flynn came home late. He wanted to check on his son. When he reached Flynn's bedroom, he saw the door slightly open. Peeking inside, he found Flynn sitting at his desk. Lucas knocked softly before stepping in.
He sat down on the edge of the bed beside Flynn.
"You're home late, son," Lucas said gently.
"I just had to go somewhere," Flynn answered.
"Son... you've been sulking in this room for days. Even your Grandma Mina is starting to worry." Lucas exhaled. "What really happened between you and Dylan?"
Flynn let out a long breath. Maybe it was finally time to tell his father everything, maybe he needed someone else's perspective.
"Dylan's dad... is the man Aunt Anna is going to marry."
"Huh? Did I hear that right? Your Aunt Anna?" Lucas asked, wanting to confirm.
"Yes. Aunt Anna. Mom's sister."
Lucas paused, thinking it over.
"Did Dylan know about this before he came here?"
"No. We found out at the same time when Aunt Anna came to our school," Flynn replied.
Lucas chuckled in disbelief.
"What a small world. Who would've thought? Dylan's father is marrying your Aunt Anna... That means Dylan's about to become a real part of our family. Hahaha!"
Flynn frowned in confusion at his father's reaction.
"Y-you're not angry?" he asked.
"Why would I be angry? That's good news."
"But Pa... Mom's family caused you so much pain. Especially Aunt Anna."
"Son," Lucas said gently, "your mother's been gone a long time. And they didn't do anything wrong. The truth is, I talked to them long time ago. And I also know your aunt was meeting you."
Flynn's face flushed with embarrassment. Only now did he realize how badly he had overreacted... and how he'd taken it out on Dylan.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, frustrated.
"Huh? You never asked. And I've tried talking to you so many times, but you wouldn't give me the chance," Lucas said.
Flynn fell silent at that.
"Son, Dylan is a good kid. A very genuine one. He's not afraid to show what he feels or say what's on his mind. Even your Grandma Mina adores him. He's a sincere boy," Lucas said, sounding almost proud.
"So that's all you were upset about?" Lucas added. "Talk to him, Flynn. And tell him, if he still wants to, we want him back in this house. We miss having him here."
"It's too late," Flynn muttered.
"What do you mean, too late?"
"I went to see him earlier," Flynn said quietly. "He pushed me away too."
"Of course he's mad, you were the first one who pushed him away. So tomorrow, you're going to apologize to him." Lucas said firmly as he stood up, heading for the door.
"But Pa—" Flynn tried to speak, but Lucas cut him off.
"No buts. I'm giving you three days to bring Dylan back into this house. If you don't, you'll be the one I kick out," Lucas declared before walking out completely.
"W-wait, Pa! Who's your real son here, huh? Paaa!" Flynn yelled after him, but Lucas was already gone.
Flynn had no choice but to give in to his father. Besides, he already knew deep down that he had overreacted... too blinded by his own emotions to even listen to Dylan. Now, he had no other option but to swallow his pride and apologize.
The next day, while walking, Flynn felt a sudden force from behind, an arm tightening around his body and a handkerchief slammed over his nose and mouth. He tried to fight back, kicking and clawing at the air, but the man restraining him was far too strong.
A few seconds later, a violent wave of dizziness crashed over him. Flynn's vision smeared into streaks of color, the whole street pitching sideways as if the ground had been ripped out from under him. His legs buckled. His fingers went numb. He tried to cling to consciousness, but his body was already slipping away from him.
Just as the darkness surged up to claim him, faint voices cut through the ringing in his ears—two men, speaking hurriedly into a phone.
"Boss, we have him. We're bringing him to you now."