King's chest burned as anger surged through him. His grip tightened around the phone, knuckles white, his voice breaking with both fury and hurt.
"Win… I hate you."
Win's eyes burned as he faced him. His voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation.
"You hate me… for what exactly, King?"
King glared back, his chest rising and falling sharply. "Because you're wicked, Win. You're evil."
Win's face twisted, hurt flashing in his eyes. "I'm evil? Because I've been trying to protect you? Because I've guided you all this time? King, I've always cared for you… I always put you first. What else do you want? And now you stand here telling me you hate me?" His voice cracked, his fists clenching at his sides. "You'd better take that back… tell me you don't mean it."
But King's voice only grew steadier, colder, as he repeated the words that broke Win apart.
"Win… I hate you. I hate you so much."
The words cut through the air like a blade. They lingered heavy, stabbing into the silence between them, and in that moment, Win's lips opened but no words came out.
King's voice cracked as he snapped, "You're just a selfish being, Win. Tell me, what exactly have I done wrong to you? Why do you keep doing this to me?" His breathing quickened, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "You knew clearly she would hate me more for this, for hearing that I wanted to move out and live on my own. You knew she also thinks I'm useless, just like you always remind me. And yet… You went ahead and told her anyway."
Win replied sharply, his tone calm but cold, as if he didn't grasp the weight of King's pain. "What's so wrong with letting her know? If your mom refuses, then stay back. Why do you have to move out in the first place? Why stay alone when you already have me here?"
King's chest narrowed. The words sank deep like stones dragging him underwater. He opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. His lips trembled. Then, all at once, the dam broke, and he crumbled.
Tears spilled freely as he broke down in front of Win. His hands covered his mouth, muffling the sobs, but the sound still escaped… raw, wounded, desperate. He bent forward on the bed, shaking, unable to stop the storm inside him.
His voice came out ragged between sobs. "Leave my room."
Win stepped closer. "King…"
"I said, leave my room." His tone rose, sharp and pleading at once, but Win stayed frozen.
Then King shouted with all the strength he had left, "Leave my room!"
Win finally drew back. His jaw shrank, but he said nothing. With slow, heavy steps, he turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Alone, King pressed his face into his pillow, tears soaking the fabric. His chest heaved as his thoughts clawed at him. What did I ever do wrong to deserve this? His voice was a whisper to himself, broken and trembling. "I just want to be loved… wanted… why is it so hard to get that… from Win, from Mom, from anyone?"
His sobs shook the room until exhaustion weighed down his body. Finally, drained of every ounce of fight, he cried himself to sleep, tears drying against his cheeks, loneliness swallowing him whole.
In his own room, Win sat heavily on the edge of the bed, the silence pressing down on him like a weight. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for his phone. Without thinking too much, he dialed his mother's number.
When she picked up, her warm voice came through, "Hello, son?"
Win's voice was low, almost broken. "Mom…" he paused, struggling to find the words.
His mother's voice came through with concern, "Is everything okay, son?"
Win swallowed hard, his chest heavy. "Why do I keep doing everything wrong?" he finally whispered, the weight of his guilt spilling out.
Concern instantly filled her tone. "What happened, Win?"
Win dragged a hand across his face, trying to steady his breathing. "I don't know," he admitted. "I can't figure it out… I just… I don't know what I'm doing anymore."
There was a short pause before his mother asked softly, "Is this about King?"
Win froze, his throat tightening. He stayed silent for a long moment before whispering, "Yes."
"What happened?" she pressed gently.
So he told her. Every detail spilled out, the fight, King's anger, his tears, and the sharp sting of hearing, I hate you. His voice wavered as he explained, but his mother listened quietly, patiently, until he had nothing more to say.
Finally, she called his name. "Win."
"Yes, Mom," he answered, his tone raw.
Her words came steady, firm but full of love. "I'll give you the same advice I've always given you since the day I knew you loved King, not as a brother, not as just a friend, but as something more. Treat him right and
If you won't treat him right, then let him go.
Allow him to live on his own. Maybe then, once you're apart, you'll finally gather the courage to confess what you really feel for him."
She paused, then added, her voice softening, "If you keep treating him this way, Win, you'll lose him. And once he's gone, you won't get another chance. Treat him right. Treat everyone around you right. That's how you make sure they'll always choose you when it matters."
Win's chest constricted as his voice cracked. "But… what if King never chooses me, Mom?"
Her answer was gentle but unshakable. "That depends on you, son. King is kind, so kind and I know deep down he feels something for you too. But he's hurting, and you're the one causing the pain. If you want him to choose you, then make things right. Before everything falls apart. Before you lose him for good."
Win closed his eyes, pressing the phone tighter to his ear. "I'll try… I'll work it out."
"Good," his mother said firmly. "That's all it takes."
They spoke a little longer, her voice a steady comfort in the quiet night, before the call finally ended.
Win set the phone down, his head heavy with thoughts, his heart aching. For the moment, the fear of losing King felt real, and it terrified him.
Finally, King drifted to sleep.
When morning came, Win woke early, showered, and dressed for work. Afterward, he went downstairs and carefully prepared breakfast for both of them. Plates set neatly on the table, he sat waiting, expecting King to come down any moment.
But time passed. King still hadn't appeared.
Win called softly from downstairs, his voice carrying up the staircase. "King, breakfast is ready."
Silence.
He tried again, a little louder, "King! Breakfast is ready!"
Still no answer.
A knot of unease tensed in his chest. Win hurried upstairs and knocked on King's door. No response. He knocked again, harder this time, before finally pushing the door open.
The room was empty.
"King?" he called, glancing toward the bathroom, but when he checked, it too was empty. His heart lurched.
"No… no, no." Win's voice broke, panic rising fast. "King, you better not run away from me."
He rushed back downstairs, hands trembling as he grabbed his phone. With frantic fingers, he dialed King's number.