---
He woke up in a panic, gasping for air, as if his heart was trying to escape his chest.
It wasn't just a bad dream — it was a nightmare that clawed its way into his soul.
Sweat dripped down his neck and face, and silent tears traced his trembling cheeks.
He wiped them away harshly, as if trying to erase every trace of what he'd seen.
Pressing a trembling hand against his chest, he could hear his heartbeat thundering in his ears.
"What is this curse…?"
It was the first time he'd ever woken up like this — crying, shaking, broken.
Seconds passed before the images started flooding back.
What happened last night… the voice… the pain…
Ivan!
His heartbeat spiked again.
He spun around, eyes darting across unfamiliar walls.
A strange room — nothing like his, nothing like his apartment. Not a place he recognized at all.
He lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all.
Everything had started that night—
The screaming, the madness, the fear.
The weight in his chest tightened like a fist, squeezing the air out of him.
Suddenly, he stood up and rushed to the bathroom. Moments later, he came out, his face dripping wet.
His voice cracked in a furious scream:
— "Lorenzo! Where are you?!"
His cries echoed down the long, empty corridor.
A guard appeared, giving him a cautious look before replying hesitantly,
— "Mr. Lorenzo is having his meal at the moment, sir—"
But Kai didn't calm down. His voice erupted, dripping with anger:
— "Ivan?! Where is he?! What did you do to him?!"
The guard swallowed nervously, raising a shaky hand.
— "I… I don't know, sir. You should ask Mr. Lorenzo, he's in the—"
He didn't finish.
Kai shoved him aside, sprinting like a man chasing the last thread of hope.
— "Lorenzo! Answer me, damn it!"
He ran toward the apartment the guard had pointed to, burst through the door, and stepped inside.
There, at the far end of a wide room, sat his father — alone at a round table, eating his lunch with unbearable calm.
As if nothing had happened.
As if he hadn't heard Kai's shouts echoing through the halls.
Lorenzo looked up without irritation, set his fork down, dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin, and spoke coolly:
— "Are you done screaming now?"
Kai froze, breathing heavily, staring at him — but this time, his eyes were different.
Not confused. Not afraid.
Filled with hatred — burning, boiling hatred.
— "Where is Ivan?"
His voice was low but sharp, quivering with restrained fury.
Lorenzo's lips curved into a faint, icy smile. He reached for the pitcher and poured himself a glass of juice without looking at Kai.
— "In the apartment next to yours. He wasn't taken far — not as far as you thought."
Kai's breath caught. Without another word, he stormed out, not wanting to see his father's face another second.
He sprinted down the corridor, heart pounding, thoughts colliding in his head — fear, guilt, anger, confusion.
When he reached the door, he stopped for a moment, resting his hand on the handle.
He took a slow breath, trying to steady himself, and opened it.
He stepped in quietly.
The room was modest — two beds facing each other, a small table between them, a window on the right letting in soft light.
On the first bed sat Julian, half-reclined, shirt unbuttoned, bandages wrapped around his torso.
He was fiddling with his phone, eyes lifting lazily when Kai entered.
His voice carried a hint of mockery.
— "You're late."
Kai didn't answer.
He didn't even glance at him.
Everything else blurred — except the second bed, its curtains drawn.
He walked over, tense, until he stopped beside it.
Ivan lay still, eyes closed.
His torso was tightly bandaged, one arm connected to an IV, the other wrapped in gauze.
His face was swollen, bruised, cut — a stitch above his brow, another under his chin.
His lips were dry and cracked, his breathing shallow, each inhale scraping like fire.
Kai stared at him silently.
The pain before him wasn't part of a nightmare — it was real, raw, cruel.
Guilt gnawed at him. Fear. Helplessness.
He couldn't speak.
Julian broke the silence, voice calm and quiet.
— "The doctor said his injuries aren't serious. His hand isn't fully broken. He'll recover soon."
Kai said nothing.
He dragged a chair closer, sat beside Ivan's bed, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes tracing every bruise, every bandage.
His whisper was barely audible.
— "Forgive me…"
In that moment, nothing else mattered.
Not Lorenzo.
Not what would happen next.
All that mattered was that Ivan woke up.
Just that.
---
Later, Kai asked Julian to get him cigarettes, and the latter obeyed without a word.
Kai smoked near Julian's bed, keeping away from Ivan's so the smoke wouldn't reach him.
He didn't look away from Ivan for a second.
Julian, meanwhile, scrolled on his phone, glancing at Kai occasionally.
An hour passed.
Kai hadn't stopped smoking — and Julian couldn't help noticing how much he resembled his father.
Not just his face, but the way he smoked when angry, the restless energy.
Except this time, Kai's anger was at his father.
Their eyes met.
Kai's voice came sharp and cold:
— "What are you staring at?!"
Julian flinched, shaking his head quickly and returning to his phone.
Kai turned back to the window, sighing.
Julian knew better than to compare him to Lorenzo.
The boy in front of him was a storm barely contained — the smallest spark could make him explode.
Outside, the streets below spread out — a cityscape unfamiliar yet still within France.
Kai lit another cigarette, frustration burning in his chest.
That's when Ivan's eyes fluttered open.
Kai froze. His eyes widened, heart hammering.
The cigarette slipped from his fingers. He rushed to Ivan's side.
Julian quietly bent down to put out the cigarette.
Ivan blinked, staring at the ceiling.
Kai leaned close, whispering his name, hoping to draw his gaze.
Ivan turned toward him, staring for several long seconds.
He didn't blink. For a moment, Kai thought he was hallucinating.
Then, faintly —
— "Kai… you're here."
Kai blinked, nodding quickly.
A small, weary smile curved Ivan's lips — relief, even after everything.
A rush of emotions flooded Kai — anger, sorrow, guilt, self-hatred.
Why was he fine… while Ivan suffered?
He was grateful Ivan had survived — that his father hadn't killed him — but he loathed himself for letting it happen.
He sank to his knees, bowing his head beside Ivan's.
Ivan shifted weakly, concerned, and Kai quickly lifted his head, placing a hand gently on his shoulder.
— "Don't."
Ivan's body relaxed. His gaze softened as Kai asked quietly,
— "How do you feel?"
Ivan hesitated — Kai's voice sounded hollow, lifeless.
— "I've been worse."
Kai lowered his head again, whispering,
— "I'm sorry…"
Ivan sighed.
— "Don't be stupid."
Silence settled again. Then Kai stood.
— "I'll get you something to eat."
Ivan blinked.
— "What about you?"
Kai turned slowly.
— "What about me?"
— "Did you eat? And why do you reek of smoke? Have you been smoking all night?"
Kai didn't answer. His gaze dropped.
He hadn't eaten, hadn't slept — just drowned in guilt.
Ivan's eyes held a familiar warmth — worried, gentle.
He didn't want to see Kai like this.
Before Kai could speak, Julian's voice came softly from across the room:
— "I'll bring food, sir. And you should change your clothes too."
Kai turned toward him with a cold, deadly stare that made Julian freeze.
He said nothing — but his eyes said everything.
Ivan, surprised Julian called him sir, reached out weakly, touching Kai's arm.
— "Go. I'll wait."
Kai nodded and quietly left, Julian following after him.
Ivan lay back, staring at the ceiling, eyes closing slowly.
Kai looked dead inside.
---
Kai returned, grabbed a towel, and went into the bathroom.
He turned on the water without checking the temperature.
When the icy stream hit him, he flinched — but didn't move.
He didn't deserve warmth.
Clenching his fists, he stood under the freezing water.
When he came out, he changed clothes, dried his hair, and picked up a comb —
but Ivan's bruised face flashed in his mind.
He hurled the comb at the mirror, shattering it.
Breathing hard, he sat down, clutching his head.
He hated his weakness last night.
He hated his father.
He hated his life.
He hated everything—
except Ivan.
And Ivan was the one who got hurt.
His voice trembled with rage.
— "Why… damn it, why?!"
Blood trickled from his hand as he dropped a shard of glass, wrapping it in a towel.
— "Damn it…"
He searched for his phone — nothing. Just clothes.
Sighing, he left the room, hiding his turmoil.
Outside, a doctor was checking on Julian.
Julian smiled at her innocently, eyes wide like a child.
Kai rolled his eyes and sat beside Ivan, watching silently.
The doctor removed Ivan's IV and changed his bandages.
She assured Kai, "He's fine. His wounds will heal quickly."
Kai glanced over the medications — just painkillers and vitamins.
His voice was tight.
— "What about the bruises on his face?"
She didn't look up.
— "A topical cream — twice a day. They'll fade soon. Don't worry."
Kai exhaled, still uneasy.
Then Ivan's faint voice broke the air:
— "I'm hungry…"
Kai turned sharply. Julian hurriedly pointed toward a table stacked with food bags.
Kai opened them — salads, rice, fruit, juice, milk, pastries.
He frowned in silence.
Julian scratched the back of his neck nervously.
— "I… didn't know what he'd like, so I brought a bit of everything."
Kai thought for a moment, then took some milk, pastries, and a warm soup.
Ivan watched quietly as Kai placed the tray beside him.
But when Ivan tried to take the bowl, his bandaged arm wouldn't move properly.
Kai paused.
Ivan gave a tired, teasing smile.
— "Looks like you'll have to feed me."
Kai rolled his eyes.
— "You're not helpless. Use your other hand."
He set the bowl down and handed him the spoon.
Ivan took it, muttering with a faint grin,
— "I thought you'd be nicer after all this."
Kai crossed his arms.
— "Idiot."
Ivan chuckled weakly, then tasted the soup.
It was hot — too hot.
He hissed, clutching his mouth.
Kai leaned forward, alarmed.
— "What is it?"
Ivan tried to smile.
— "The spices… and my gums aren't happy. Give me something else."
Kai nodded silently, replacing the soup with pastries and milk.
He watched as Ivan slowly chewed, taking careful sips.
For the first time, Kai breathed easier.
The doctor finished packing her tools, while Julian grabbed a slice of pizza.
Ivan ate half a pastry, drinking the milk, before glancing at Kai.
— "Come on, eat too."
Kai hesitated — then finally took a bite.
They ate quietly together.
After Ivan took his medicine, a middle-aged maid entered, cleaning the room efficiently.
Kai suddenly turned to Julian.
— "Where are we?"
Julian, now buttoning a fresh shirt, replied,
— "A hotel."
Kai frowned, waiting.
Julian smirked slightly.
— "We've got the whole floor to ourselves."
Ivan blinked.
— "The entire floor?"
Julian adjusted his cuffs.
— "Of course. Would you expect any less?"
Kai didn't answer.
He stared at the floor, lost in thought.
Ivan closed his eyes again, exhaustion weighing on him.
Kai carried his chair to the window, sat down, and rested his arm on the side.
Sunlight spilled across the floor as he gazed at the city below —
life bustling, cars moving, voices distant.
The world kept spinning.
And behind him, on the bed, lay the one he'd almost lost forever.
---