Chapter Three
Dave was the only child of his parents, fragile in their eyes—like glass handled too carefully, as if he might shatter with the smallest misstep.
Seated at the dining table, his mother set his breakfast before him. Drained from the nightmare, Dave dug in with quiet hunger.
"Dave…" his mother called softly.
"Mm?" he responded, cheeks full.
"Your father and I have something important to tell you." She hesitated.
"What's that about?" He set his spoon down, curiosity flickering in his gaze.
"We're moving to Emberland the day after tomorrow," she revealed carefully. "We're relocating."
Dave froze, then let out a scoff, sipping his orange juice.
"You must be joking, right?" His soft, melodious voice carried disbelief.
"No, dear. We're serious," his mother replied gently. "It's business—but temporary. Once it's settled, we'll return."
"No, Mom. What about my friends? Everyone I care about? I'll miss them. It's not that easy," he pouted, crossing his arms.
"Please, sweetie pie, try to understand," his father said firmly.
Dave's parents were high-profile business moguls, their influence stretching across countries. Always elegant, always commanding, they lived lives of power and prestige. They adored Dave and gave him every luxury—but their absence had left a void no riches could fill.
Dave sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. But on one condition."
"And what's that, my baby boy?" they asked in unison.
"You'll upgrade my car to the latest sports model. The one I've been eyeing." His tone was firm, playful yet demanding.
His father chuckled. "That's not a problem, dear. We'll get it once we're settled."
Smirking in satisfaction, Dave polished off the rest of his meal, already scheming how to break the news to his friends.
---
At the café later that day, Dave sighed dramatically. "I'm relocating in two days."
"What?!" his friend Andy blurted.
"Yes. I feel like crying. I'll miss you all," Dave pouted, his voice dripping with exaggerated sorrow.
His circle of six—four girls, two guys—erupted in chatter. They were inseparable, bound by secrets and laughter. And Dave, with his flamboyant charm, had always gravitated toward the girls. He adored beauty and elegance, not just in himself but in everything around him.
And he was beauty.
His slender build, flawless skin, and delicate features gave him an ethereal magnetism. Every detail—his cinched waist, graceful posture, plump pink lips, and dark lashes—demanded attention. Girls dreamed of his allure but could never replicate it.
As he admired his freshly painted nails, he fluttered his lashes. "What I'll miss most is my nail artist," he lamented.
The café patrons couldn't help but stare. If a god of male beauty existed, Dave was surely its vessel.
---
That night, back at the mansion, Dave sighed at the silence. His parents were gone again, buried in meetings. Their love was real, but their absence louder.
He dragged out a glossy pink suitcase and began packing. Clothes, accessories, skincare, all sorted carefully by his hand before the maids were summoned for the rest.
Dinner was served by one of the staff, and Dave chatted with them between bites. Despite his spoiled nature, he was affectionate with those who cared for him daily.
Later, he slipped into the luxury of his evening routine—scented showers, meticulous skincare, silk sheets.
As he lay in bed, his gaze lingered on the ceiling. Emberland.
Would it be as glamorous as Lyralis? Would he still shine as brightly?
Only time would tell.