Lance sighed and retrieved Edwin's phone from the living room where he'd left it to charge overnight. He handed it to Edwin, his fingers brushing against the actor's as he did so.
Edwin took the phone, barely seeming to notice the contact. He stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over Laura's number. With a deep breath, he pressed "call" and held the phone to his ear.
Lance watched, his own heart sinking as Edwin's face fell. The call had clearly gone to voicemail.
"She's not answering," Edwin muttered, ending the call. He immediately dialed again, pacing back and forth in Lance's kitchen.
Lance leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a flicker of hurt passed over his features as Edwin made a third attempt to reach Laura.
"Come on, pick up," Edwin whispered, his knuckles white as he gripped the phone.
After the fifth unanswered call, Edwin finally lowered the phone, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "She's ignoring me," he said, his voice barely audible.
Lance moved closer, wanting to comfort Edwin but unsure how. "Maybe she's just busy," he offered, though he didn't sound convinced.
Edwin shook his head, sinking back into his chair at the kitchen island. "No, she's avoiding me. God, what did I do wrong, Lance? How did I mess things up so badly?"
Lance sat down next to Edwin, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. "You didn't do anything wrong, Edwin. Sometimes relationships just... don't work out, no matter how much we want them to. It's not always someone's fault."
Edwin turned to look at Lance, his green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But I love her so much. I thought we were going to spend our lives together. How do I just... move on from that?"
Lance's heart clenched at the raw pain in Edwin's voice. He wanted nothing more than to pull the other man into his arms, to comfort him, to make him see that there could be something—someone—else in his future. But he held back, unsure if his feelings would be welcome or even understood. After all, he was only just beginning to recognize them himself.
"It takes time," Lance said softly. "And it's not easy. But you're not alone, Edwin. I'm here for you, whatever you need."
Edwin managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Lance. I don't know what I'd do without you right now."
Lance returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's what friends are for, right?"
The word "friends" tasted bitter on Lance's tongue, but he pushed the feeling aside. Edwin needed support, not complications.
"Listen," Lance said, standing up and gathering their empty plates. "Why don't you go take a shower? I left some clean clothes for you in the bathroom. Maybe it'll help clear your head a bit."
Edwin nodded, getting to his feet. "Yeah, okay. That's probably a good idea."
As Edwin headed towards the bathroom, Lance busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen. He tried to focus on the mundane task of washing dishes, but his mind kept drifting back to Edwin.
He thought about how vulnerable Edwin had looked last night at the club, how lost and alone. He remembered the weight of Edwin's arm around his shoulders as he'd helped him into the apartment, the warmth of his body as Lance had carefully changed him into new clothes.
Lance shook his head, trying to dispel the images. Edwin was hurting, still in love with someone else. The last thing he needed was Lance developing feelings for him. But as the sound of the shower started up, Lance couldn't help but picture Edwin under the spray of water, rivulets running down his toned body. He groaned softly, resting his forehead against the cool surface of a cabinet. "Get it together, Lance," he muttered to himself. "He needs a friend, not... whatever this is."
By the time Edwin emerged from the bathroom, Lance had managed to school his features into a neutral expression. However, he couldn't help but pause as he took in the sight before him.
Edwin stood there, freshly showered, his damp hair slightly tousled. The clothes Lance had lent him fit surprisingly well, the soft gray t-shirt clinging just enough to hint at the toned body beneath, while the dark jeans hugged his legs in all the right places. Even in this casual attire, Edwin exuded a natural grace and attractiveness that made Lance's breath catch in his throat.
Lance found himself admiring the way the t-shirt accentuated Edwin's broad shoulders, the subtle play of muscles as he ran a hand through his hair. The actor's green eyes seemed brighter now, still tinged with sadness but clearer than before. A hint of stubble shadowed his jawline, giving him a rugged edge that contrasted beautifully with his usually polished appearance.
Realizing he was staring, Lance quickly averted his gaze, hoping Edwin hadn't noticed. He busied himself with pouring a glass of water, using the moment to compose himself.
"Feeling any better?" Lance asked, handing Edwin the glass of water and some painkillers, proud of how steady he kept his voice despite the flutter in his chest.
Edwin accepted them gratefully, his fingers brushing against Lance's in a way that sent a small shiver down the footballer's spine. "A little, yeah. Thanks again, Lance. For everything."
Lance nodded, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through him at Edwin's grateful smile. He reminded himself that Edwin was still hurting, still in love with someone else. This wasn't the time for whatever feelings were stirring within him.
"Oh, by the way," Lance said, partly to distract himself from his thoughts, "I meant to tell you earlier. Your phone was blowing up all night with calls and messages from someone named Kimberly. I thought you might want to check on that."
Edwin's eyes widened in realization. "Oh god, Kimberly! I completely forgot to call him! He's my best friend and personal assistant, and he must be worried sick about me."
Lance raised an eyebrow. "Him? I thought Kimberly was typically a woman's name."
Edwin chuckled softly. "Kimberly prefers to use feminine pronouns and name, but yes, he's a man. And he's probably organized search parties in three counties by now."
"Wow," Lance said, impressed. "Sounds like quite a dedicated assistant. You should probably give him a call before he reports you as a missing person."
Edwin nodded, grabbing his phone. "You're right. I owe him an explanation."
Edwin dialed Kimberly's number. As it rang, he mouthed a 'thank you' to Lance, who responded with a warm smile and a mock salute before moving to give Edwin some privacy. After two rings, Kimberly's worried voice came through. "Edwin? Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all night!"
"I'm so sorry, Kim," Edwin said, guilt evident in his voice. "I should have called earlier."
"Never mind that now," Kimberly said, his tone softening. "Are you alright? How did the meeting with Laura go?"
At the mention of Laura's name, Edwin felt his composure crumble. His voice broke as he replied, "It... it didn't go well, Kim. She... she broke off our engagement." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Oh, Edwin, I'm so sorry. Are you alright? Do you need me to come get you?" Where are you? I'm coming to get you right now."
"I'm... I'm actually at Lance Castellan's place," Edwin said, bracing himself for Kimberly's reaction.
There was a long pause. "Lance Castellan? The footballer? Edwin, darling, are you sure you're not still drunk?"
Despite everything, Edwin couldn't help but chuckle. "No, Kim, I'm sober. Lance found me at a club last night. I was... well, I was in pretty bad shape. He brought me back to his place to make sure I was okay."
"Lance Castellan," Kimberly repeated, still sounding skeptical. "The same Lance Castellan who supposedly saved you from those rabid reporters that time I was in the hospital? The one I didn't believe actually existed?"
Edwin sighed. "Yes, Kim. That Lance Castellan. He's real, and he's been incredibly kind to me."
"Well," Kimberly said, his tone laced with concern and curiosity, "I think I need to see this for myself. Can you send me the address? I want to make sure you're really okay, and... well, I suppose I owe Mr. Castellan an apology for doubting his existence."
Edwin glanced at Lance, who was pretending not to eavesdrop from the living room. "Let me check with Lance first, okay? I'll text you the details in a minute."
After ending the call, Edwin turned to Lance. "So, um, would it be okay if Kimberly came by? He's pretty worried, and I think he wants to make sure I'm not hallucinating you or something."
Lance laughed. "Hallucinating me? Should I be flattered or offended?"
Edwin smiled sheepishly. "It's just... the last time you helped me out, Kimberly wasn't there to see it. He thought I might have made you up."
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Lance grinned. "Tell your doubting friend he's welcome to come verify my existence. Maybe I'll even sign an autograph for him."
As Edwin texted Kimberly the address, he felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. Despite the pain of losing Laura, he realized he wasn't alone. He had Kimberly's unwavering support and Lance's unexpected kindness.