Michael didn't realize how loud silence could be until that moment.
The airport was full—people moving, announcements echoing, luggage rolling across polished floors—but none of it reached him the way it should have.
Everything felt distant, like he was standing outside his own life, watching it unfold without him.
His phone was still in his hand.
The message he had sent lingered on the screen:
Lucas… I didn't make the flight.
Delivered.
Seen.
And then—
The call came in.
Michael didn't hesitate. He answered immediately.
"Lucas—"
"What do you mean you didn't make it?"
No greeting.
No softness.
Just that.
Michael closed his eyes briefly, steadying himself.
"I was at the gate," he began, trying to keep his voice calm.
"There was a delay at security, and by the time I got there—"
"—it was gone?" Lucas cut in sharply.
"Yes."
A pause.
But not the peaceful kind.
The kind that builds pressure.
"You're serious right now?" Lucas asked.
Michael frowned slightly.
"What does that mean?"
"It means," Lucas said, his voice tightening, "how do you miss something like that? This wasn't just any flight, Michael."
"I know that."
"Do you?" Lucas fired back. "Because it doesn't feel like you do."
Michael's jaw clenched.
"I said I know, Lucas."
"Then why does it feel like I'm the only one who understood how important today was?"
That hit harder than Michael expected.
He took a slow breath.
"It was a mistake," he said, more firmly now. "Not a decision. Not something I planned. A mistake."
Lucas let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"A mistake?"
"Yes."
"A mistake that just happens to ruin everything?"
Michael's grip tightened around his phone.
"Stop exaggerating."
"Exaggerating?" Lucas repeated. "You missed your flight to your future, Michael. How is that exaggeration?"
"I'm trying to fix it," Michael snapped, his calm beginning to crack.
"Oh, now you're trying?"
Michael went quiet for a second.
That tone.
That assumption.
"I've been trying since it happened," he said, his voice lower now. "You're not even listening to me."
"Because you're not making sense!" Lucas shot back. "You're acting like this is small—it's not small!"
"I never said it was small!"
"Then why do you sound so calm?!"
Michael froze slightly.
That question caught him off guard.
Because the truth was—
He wasn't calm.
He just didn't know how else to be.
"I'm not calm," he said quietly. "I'm trying to stay in control."
Lucas didn't respond immediately.
But when he did, his voice had changed—less sharp, more wounded.
"It doesn't feel like you're fighting for this."
Michael's chest tightened.
"What?"
"It feels like…" Lucas hesitated, then continued anyway, "like I'm the only one who's actually scared of losing something here."
Michael shook his head, even though Lucas couldn't see him.
"That's not true."
"Then show it."
"I am showing it!"
"No, you're explaining it," Lucas said.
"That's different."
Michael opened his mouth to respond—
Then paused.
Because suddenly, there was someone standing in front of him.
A uniform.
A polite but urgent expression.
"Excuse me, sir," the woman said.
Michael blinked, momentarily disoriented.
"Yes?"
"Are you Mr. Michael?"
His brows furrowed slightly.
"Yes…"
"There's an emergency flight heading to your destination," she said quickly. "A seat just became available. If you want it, you need to come now."
Everything stopped.
Time.
Thought.
Even the tension on the call seemed to freeze.
"What?" Michael said under his breath.
Lucas' voice came through immediately.
"Who is that?"
Michael didn't answer right away.
The attendant continued, her tone firmer now.
"Sir, we don't have much time. Boarding is closing."
Michael looked between her and his phone.
Between his future—
And the voice on the other end of the line.
"Michael," Lucas said again, slower this time. "What's going on?"
Michael swallowed.
"There's… there's a flight," he said, still trying to process it himself. "An emergency one. Same destination."
Silence.
Then Lucas spoke.
"So go."
The words came too quickly.
Too easily.
Michael frowned.
"Sir," the attendant said again, urgency creeping in. "We have to leave now."
Michael nodded slightly.
Then spoke into the phone one last time.
"I'll call you back."
He ended the call.
The silence that followed was immediate.
Heavy.
Unforgiving.
Lucas stared at his phone.
The call screen had disappeared.
Replaced by nothing.
Just his reflection staring back at him.
For a long moment, he didn't move.
Didn't breathe properly.
Then slowly—
His expression changed.
Not anger.
Not even sadness.
Something quieter.
Meanwhile—
Michael rushed after the attendant, heart pounding, thoughts scattered, trying to focus on the one thing that mattered now:
Don't miss this one.
They moved quickly through corridors, past gates, past people, past everything.
No time to look back.
No time to think.
Finally—
He reached the plane.
Stepped inside.
Found his seat.
Sat down.
Breathing hard.
Relief.
He pulled out his phone immediately.
Opened the chat.
Waiting.
A message was there.
From Lucas.
Michael's heart slowed slightly as he opened it.
Expecting anger.
Maybe frustration.
Maybe something he could fix.