Daeron
Kin-Slayer
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- Jan 22, 2026
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So, i tried to improve my writing by improving my Deep POV approach. Since my story already reaching the main Psychological Thriller (Dark-side arc).
There's 2 chapters that using Deep POV. Please give me your critique and suggestion about my writing.
Little context about what happen so far : The MC is typical Delusional-Narcistic-Self Absorbed Young man. He's living together with his crush. The irony is the girl didn't tell the MC that she actually have a boyfriend. He already have some suspicion but he keep denial about it.
Heartbreak chapter :
March, 2012.
Ninety days of playing house. The industrial chill of the loft had vanished, replaced by the permanent, sweet scent of chocolate and vanilla.
My mornings weren't lonely anymore; they were loud with the sizzle of batter. Pancakes. Every. Single. Day. I didn't even like pancakes before her. Now? I couldn't start the day without them. Her mess was everywhere—hair ties on the counter, socks on the sofa—and instead of annoying me, it made the place feel alive.
For the first time in my life, the silence in my head was gone. I was happy.
*
I kicked the door shut, balancing two bags of groceries. The apartment was quiet.
I found her on the balcony, wrapped in my hoodie, staring out at the Chicago skyline. She looked small against the vastness of the city lights.
I sat beside her, the cold metal chair seeping through my jeans. "Hey. Why the long face?"
I kissed her temple. She smelled like the wind.
She leaned into me, heavy, like she was carrying a weight. "Nothing. Just... enjoying the night."
"Uh-huh." I nudged her. "The night makes you look sad?"
"I’m not saaaad..." She let out a long, shaky exhale. "I just... miss you, I guess."
"Miss me?" I laughed. "I was gone for twenty minutes to buy milk and eggs, babe. I’m not going anywhere."
She didn't laugh. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight enough to turn her knuckles white.
"Say... do you really love me, Daeron?"
The question hung in the cold air.
"I do." I pulled her closer, wrapping my arm around her to shield her from the wind. "I always do. You know that."
She brought my hand to her lips, kissing my knuckles. Her lips were cold. "If I made a mistake... would you hate me?"
A mistake?
My mind flashed back to the time she woke me up by poking a rubber dick against my ass cheek. I snorted.
"Well, depends on the mistake. If you’re going to prank me with that dildo next to my asshole again? Yeah, I’m gonna be pissed."
The tension broke. Her sad expression cracked into a genuine laugh.
"So if I prank you like that again, you’ll hate me?"
"I’ll be mad! But hate? No."
She turned her head, searching my face with an intensity that unsettled me. "Isn't being mad the same thing?"
"No! Anger is temporary. You get mad, you get over it. But hate?" I shook my head. "Hate is permanent. Hate is deep. Besides... I don’t think I'm capable of hating you."
"Why?" Her voice was a whisper.
I looked into those green eyes. "I don't know. I just can’t find a reason to."
For a split second, I saw it. A flash of pure, unadulterated sorrow in her eyes. Guilt? Fear? Before I could identify it, she buried her face in my chest, hiding from me.
"Can we cuddle in bed now?" her voice muffled against my hoodie. "I’m getting sleepy... But no sex. I’m still on my period."
I grinned, trying to lighten the heavy mood. "Why? I’m not scared of a little strawberry jam."
"Daeron!!!" She pulled back, swatting my arm. "That’s gross!!!"
We laughed, the sound echoing off the brick walls.
*
We curled up under the duvet. She held me tight, her leg hooked over mine, pressing her body against me as if she was afraid I’d disappear.
I ran my hand through her hair. I wanted to ask her what was wrong. I wanted to ask why she was asking about "hate." But the rhythm of her breathing against my chest was hypnotic, and I didn't want to ruin the peace.
I fell asleep with the smell of vanilla in my nose and a girl who wasn't entirely mine in my arms.
**
The smell hit me as soon as I left my last class. Grilled meat, onions, and cheap mustard. A vendor had set up a cart right near the campus edge.
It sparked a memory. High school. We had promised to find a hotdog stand in the city that could beat our old favorite. We never did. Between the clubs, her friends, and her "campus assignments" on the weekends, we just never got around to it.
I bought two loaded hotdogs and a chocolate milkshake—her favorite—and drove straight home. I could already picture her face lighting up when I walked through the door.
*
"Babe! Look what I found near campus!" I shouted, kicking the heavy loft door shut behind me.
Nothing.
Usually, there was music playing, or the TV humming, or the sound of her moving around. But the loft was dead quiet.
I walked into the living area. The air felt wrong. The usual mess—her shoes kicked off by the sofa, her magazines on the coffee table—was missing. The space looked too clean. Too empty.
"Jess?"
I walked into the bedroom.
The closet door was open. Her half was stripped bare. The vanity was clear. The scent of chocolate and vanilla was already fading.
Is she pranking me again?
"Jess!!!" I yelled, checking the bathroom. Empty. The balcony. Empty.
I ran back to the kitchen. That’s when I saw it. A single plate on the island. A stack of pancakes and a glass of orange juice. Exactly how she prepared them for me every morning.
But no note. No Jessica.
My hands started to shake. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It didn't even ring. It went straight to a dead signal. She had blocked me.
I dropped the hotdogs and the milkshake on the counter. The condensation on the plastic cup pooled on the granite. I grabbed my keys, bolted out the door, and drove to her campus like a madman.
*
I can’t. I can’t lose her like this.
I parked illegally near the UChicago quad and started running. I scanned the crowds of students, looking for a flash of ginger hair, a green jacket, anything. I asked random people if they knew a Jessica with red hair. They looked at me like I was insane.
Then it hit me. I didn't know anything.
I didn't know her major. I didn't know her dorm room number. I didn't even know her friends' last names. I just knew Mell, Josy, and Martha from that one sorority party months ago.
I kept running, my breath burning in my lungs, the cold air stinging my face. An hour passed. Then two. I was a ghost wandering through a city that didn't know her.
And then, near a coffee shop, I saw a familiar face.
"Hey!" I gasped, jogging up to her, my chest heaving. "You’re Martha, right?"
The girl stopped, squinting at me over her latte. "Yes?"
"It’s me... Daeron. I was with Jessica at that sorority co-ed party last winter."
Her face cleared. "Ah!! I remember you! You’re Jessica’s childhood friend, right?"
"What?" I blinked, the words not computing. "Do you know where she is?"
"Oh, she doesn't have class today. I think she’s still moving in with her boyfriend."
The world stopped spinning. The ambient noise of the campus cut out.
"What????" My voice was a hollow croak. "Moving in with... her boyfriend?"
"Yeah," Martha said casually, adjusting her bag. "Her boyfriend kept bothering her to move in with him. They hardly ever see each other since she has to share an apartment with her brother since winter break. It’s been tough on them."
"What are you talking about? Her boyfriend??"
Martha frowned, looking at me closely. "Huh? Aren't you her childhood friend? Yeah, her boyfriend from high school. Wait... you didn't know?"
My mind went blank. The pavement under my feet felt like it was dissolving. My stomach twisted violently, threatening to empty the coffee I’d had that morning. The blood drained from my face, leaving my skin ice cold.
Jessica has a boyfriend? Since high school?
"Daeron??" Martha took a step back, her eyes widening as she read my expression. "Oh my god. Don’t tell me... were you actually dating her?"
The question snapped the invisible cord holding me together.
I couldn't speak. My throat was sealed shut. I turned around and walked away. I didn't hear Martha calling after me. My body moved on autopilot, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached my car. I got in, gripped the steering wheel, and drove back to the loft.
*
I walked through the heavy metal door. The hotdogs were still on the counter, cold and congealing.
I stumbled into the bedroom and threw myself onto the bed. Our bed.
Then, the blood rushed back to my face, hot and furious. The dam broke. A choked, ugly sob tore out of my throat, followed by another. The air refused to enter my lungs. I was suffocating.
My heart hammered against my ribs, beating so hard it felt like it was trying to crack my sternum. The sharp, tingling pain in my chest that I’d felt months ago was back, but this time it was agonizing. It felt like I was being gutted alive.
I grabbed the bedsheets, my fingers digging into the fabric until I heard the cotton rip.
Why? WHY? WHY?????
I pulled my hand back and punched myself in the face. Hard. The pain blossomed across my cheekbone, but it wasn't enough to drown out the agony in my chest. I hit myself again.
Wake up. Wake up from this nightmare.
I wanted to escape. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up tomorrow to the smell of pancakes and the sound of her laugh. My energy depleted as fast as it had spiked. Exhaustion crashed over me like a wave.
Maybe this is it. If I sleep, I'll wake up next to her.
I curled into a ball on the torn sheets and let the darkness take me.
*
The chill slapped me awake.
The loft was pitch black. The sun had gone down hours ago. I sat up, my face throbbing, my eyes swollen tight.
I reached out across the mattress.
Nothing. Cold sheets.
There was no laughter in the loft. There was no prank waiting for me. There was no vanilla scent.
Her presence was gone. Jessica was gone.
**
"Psychological Breakdown" chapter :
Two days.
Forty-eight hours of absolute nothingness. I skipped classes. I woke up, scavenged whatever was left in the fridge, drowned my brain in beer, and breathed cigarette smoke until my lungs burned. Then, I buried myself under the blankets, suffocating in the chocolate-vanilla scent she had left behind, praying for sleep to take me back to the illusion.
Every hour, my thumb hovered over her contact. Call. Text. Please. Just please come back. Silence. She wasn't coming back.
Day Three.
The tears were gone. The well was completely dry.
My body felt hollow, weak, and heavy. The truth finally settled into my bones like lead: she wasn't mine. She had never been mine. She belonged to someone else.
I took a ragged breath, trying to summon the discipline Sensei used to drill into me. Move. Do not stagnate. Find your center. I couldn't stay in this tomb. I needed a distraction before the silence killed me.
I stood under a freezing shower until my skin went numb, put on fresh clothes, and grabbed my keys. I had to go somewhere clean. Somewhere her ghost hadn't touched. I drove aimlessly, letting the city blur past until I spotted a random café I’d never seen before.
I pushed the door open, the bell chiming above me.
"Daeron? Is that you?"
The girl working behind the espresso machine was staring at me. I squinted, trying to place the face from a lifetime ago.
"Huh? Airin?"
"Yes!" She smiled brightly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Wow, you still remember me! How have you been?"
"Heh. I’ve been better," I muttered, taking a seat at the counter. "What about you? You seem pretty happy working here."
"Yeah, I love it. It's close to my place, too." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she scanned my face. "You look like a mess. Are you hungover?"
"Yeah. Drank way too much last night."
"Double espresso?"
"Please. Make it two."
Airin turned to the machine, the hissing steam filling the quiet shop.
"So," I said, desperate to force a normal conversation. "You still with Jones? How's that going?"
She stopped, looking over her shoulder with a sharp, bitter laugh. "You forgot? He dumped me back in high school."
"Oh. Shit, really? Sorry, I didn't know about that."
"Chill, it was years ago anyway. I have a new boyfriend now." She giggled, sliding the steaming ceramic cup in front of me. "I just figured your crew already knew he was only playing with me."
I frowned, the coffee cup warming my cold hands. "What do you mean? Playing you how?"
"Well, you know he dated Jessica, right?"
My hand froze.
"He just used me as a distraction," Airin continued, oblivious. "Sean caught them having sex at Jessica’s house, so Jones panicked and used me as a cover-up so her brother wouldn't kill him."
My muscles locked. The air in the café suddenly felt dangerously thin.
"Jones... was dating Jessica?"
Airin's smile vanished. Her expression turned serious, confused. "Huh? Wait. I thought you guys knew. You’re Jessica’s best friend."
The rich smell of the espresso suddenly made me violently nauseous. The coffee already in my stomach turned to acid. My breathing became shallow and heavy.
"Daeron?" Airin reached across the counter, touching my wrist. "Are you okay? You look sick."
"Yeah... I don't think I should drink this... hahaha." The laugh sounded deranged, even to me. I shoved some crumpled bills onto the counter. "Here... keep the change. Bye, Airin... thanks for the coffee."
I stumbled off the stool and walked out the door, the bell mocking me on the way out.
*
Jones? The boyfriend from high school that Martha talked about... was Jones?
I collapsed into the driver's seat, grabbing the steering wheel.
I gripped the leather until my knuckles turned white and my joints screamed.
Why? Jones was my brother. My crew. They had fucked. He was her first. Why didn't they tell me? Why? WHY? WHY???
A giggle bubbled up the back of my throat.
Fuck.
I laughed out loud. There were no tears left to cry. There was no hatred lingering in my head. I just felt sick. Sick to my absolute core.
It all made sense now. The reason she was so secretive in front of the boys back then? Because her actual boyfriend was sitting right there. The group date to Prom. The hesitations.
But wait... why was she seducing me? Was I the side piece? Was I the affair? Did I betray my own best friend without even knowing it? Am I the bad guy here?
I laughed louder, my head falling back against the headrest.
Yeah. That must be it. It’s because of me. I was the poison. I betrayed Alvin, too. Back in sophomore year of high school, I was supposed to be Alvin's wingman for Jessica, but I kept getting closer to her instead. I stole her attention. Alvin backed off the Homecoming party because he knew I liked her.
I’m the traitor. I ruin everything.
The laughter morphed into heavy, manic panting.
I remembered Alvin deciding to busy himself with Faye, rooting for me to go to the party. Yes! That’s it! Busy! I must make myself busy! I’d skipped class for three days now.
YES! THAT’S IT!
I just need to go to the library. If I study, it will be fine. Studying is a great choice! Everything is fine!
My hands shook violently as I jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and I tore out of the parking lot, driving straight toward the campus library like a man possessed.
**
The heavy oak doors of the library shut behind me, cutting off the noise of the campus.
The air smelled like sandalwood, stale coffee, and decaying paper. It was suffocatingly quiet. Freshmen were huddled around tables, highlighting textbooks and whispering about group projects. Normal college stuff.
Yes! My brain buzzed with manic energy. This is it. The perfect distraction. I am a student. It is time to study. Everything is fine!
I claimed a desk in the back corner, secluded by tall bookshelves. I practically ripped my laptop from my bag, slamming it onto the desk. I pulled up the syllabus for my business course, staring at the screen, determined to catch up on the three days I'd spent drowning in beer and self-pity.
I stared at the words.
I stared for five minutes. The letters blurred together. None of it made sense.
FUCK! I don't understand SHIT! My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Who wrote this fucking garbage?!
I slammed the laptop shut, my chest heaving. The manic high was already fading, the dark void threatening to pull me back down. I needed something else. I leaned back in my chair, scanning the room like a starving animal looking for a scrap.
My eyes snagged on a girl two tables over.
Latina. Dark hair in a bun. Fair skin. She was resting her chin on her hand, completely absorbed in a massive textbook. As she read, she absentmindedly bit down on the cap of her pen.
Shit. She was cute.
Actually, she was gorgeous. But she was hiding it under an oversized sweater and a nervous posture. Such a waste.
I stood up, sliding into the aisle of the bookshelves, pretending to scan the spines while I kept her in my peripheral vision. She shifted in her seat.
Sweet Jesus. Look at that ass!
The manic energy flared back to life. I should talk to her. Alvin made his move on Faye to get over his shit, right? Why shouldn't I? YES! A quiet nerd like her in the back of the library? She had to be single. She was the perfect target.
I started walking toward her. My heart was racing.
CONFIDENCE. The word echoed in my head. Jessica always said she loved it when I was confident.
A phantom pain spiked in my chest at her name, but I forced it down, pasting a smooth, effortless smile on my face.
"Hey," I said, my voice low enough not to echo. "What are you studying?"
She jumped, dropping her pen on the desk. She looked up at me with wide, startled brown eyes. "Oh... Umm... I'm just reviewing my econ notes."
I pulled out the chair next to her and sat down without asking. "Oh, wow. Freshman? I've never seen you around the business wing before."
She shrank back slightly, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. "Uh-hum... yes. Freshman."
"I'm Daeron." I held out my hand.
She looked at it for a second before shaking it. Her grip was soft. "Gabriella."
"Why are you sitting all the way back here in the dark, Gabriella?"
"Umm... I just like it." She broke eye contact, looking down at her notes. "I can concentrate better when I'm alone."
Ah. Too aggressive. I needed to pivot.
"Oh, I'm bothering you, then." I stood up immediately, putting my hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry, Gabriella. You just looked like you needed some company. My bad."
I gave her a warm, slightly apologetic smile, turned my back, and walked to my desk.
I opened my laptop again, not reading a single word on the screen. I just waited.
Ten minutes passed. From the corner of my eye, I saw her look up. Then again. When she looked over a third time, I turned my head and met her gaze dead-on, flashing a slow smile.
She turned bright red and dropped her head so fast she almost hit the table.
HAHAHAHAHA. Gotcha.
Thirty minutes later, I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching my desk.
"Umm... Daeron, right?"
I looked up, feigning mild surprise. "Yes?"
She stood there, hugging her notebook to her chest. "I noticed your textbook earlier. You're a business major too, right?"
"Yeah. I am." I leaned back. "Did you want to study together?"
She smiled, a tiny, genuine thing, fidgeting with the spiral wire of her notebook. "Hm-mph. If... if it doesn't bother you."
"Not at all," I said smoothly. "I could probably give you some pointers. My GPA last year was actually pretty solid."
Her face lit up. "Really? Can I have your number?"
"Sure."
I typed my number into her phone, and she waved a shy goodbye before hurrying out of the library.
I sat there in the silence, staring at my phone.
Damn. Look at that. I'm a fucking charmer. First try, first win.
I threw my head back and laughed silently at the ceiling.
HAHAHAHAHA! It was working. The distraction was working. As long as I kept winning, I wouldn't have to feel the hole in my chest.
*
I cut the engine. The underground parking garage was dead silent.
Just looking at the elevator doors made my stomach twist into violent knots. Fuck. I can't go up there. I need to stay away from that loft. I grabbed my phone and dialed Nikolay. I needed a distraction that involved loud bass and cheap vodka.
"Chyo kavo, Derro!"
"Hey. Where are you guys?"
"Blyad! Did you not read your phone? I texted you three days ago, Derro! We are on a road trip!"
"A trip? Now? It's the middle of the semester."
"Bozhe moi! We are not on vacation, Derro! We are making a strategic retreat from academia!"
I let out a weak chuckle. "You guys are insane."
"So what is going on, Derro? Why are you calling me at nine at night? Usually, you are busy banging Systra right now."
The nickname felt like a knife slipping between my ribs. "Nah," I lied smoothly. "I just wanted to come crash at your place today, actually."
Silence on the line. The background noise of the car radio faded as Nikolay probably covered the mic. When he spoke again, the drunken cheer was entirely gone.
"Did something happen, Broda?"
"No. Nothing. I’ll fill you in when you get back."
"... You are sure?"
"Yes, Brotha. Enjoy the retreat."
".... I will call you the minute I cross the city line, Derro. We are back next week. Do not do anything stupid. Understand?"
"Hahaha, don’t worry, Brotha. Have fun."
I hung up. I dropped the phone on the passenger seat and rubbed my face. Fuck. I had no choice. I took the elevator up and unlocked the heavy metal door to my loft.
It was a graveyard.
The air was freezing, but worse than the cold were the ghosts. I couldn't look at the bed—the ghost of her chocolate-vanilla perfume was suffocating. I looked at the kitchen island and heard the phantom sizzle of pancake batter and her laugh. I glanced at the balcony glass and remembered the exact weight of her leaning against me.
The apartment was shrinking. I couldn't breathe. I collapsed onto the leather sofa in the living room, refusing to step foot in the bedroom. I buried my face in my hands.
Bzzt!
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, half-hoping for the impossible.
Gabriella: Hi, Daeron! Are you busy tomorrow? Perhaps.. we can study together again?
The crushing weight in my chest lifted just a fraction. A slow, manic smile spread across my face.
Right. The distraction. I typed back a quick, charming reply. As the text bubbles popped up back and forth, the ghosts in the loft started to fade. Tomorrow was going to be better.
**
The next few days were a blur of textbooks, cafeteria lunches, and calculated charm.
Gabriella was exactly what I needed. She was sweet, incredibly smart, and easiest of all, she looked at me like I hung the moon. During our study breaks, I played the perfect gentleman, asking about her life, listening intently, and feeding off the validation she gave me.
But by Thursday, the campus library was a madhouse. Midterms were approaching.
"Damn, it's packed today," I muttered, scanning the sea of stressed students.
Gabriella sighed, pointing her pen toward the back. "Even our spot is taken."
I glared at the two freshmen sitting at our table. Fuck. Now what? Then, the idea hit me. It was brilliant. It was slightly twisted, but it was brilliant.
"Hey," I said, leaning casually against a bookshelf. "Want to just study at my place? I actually have a mini-library in my loft. It doesn’t have a massive collection, but all my business books and notes from last year are there."
"Whoa!" Her brown eyes went wide, reflecting pure awe. "You have a mini-library in your apartment?! That’s amazing!!"
She realized how eager she sounded and quickly stepped back, her cheeks turning pink. "... I mean... if it’s really okay that I visit your place... I don't want to impose—"
"Hey." I cut her off gently, stepping into her space and giving her my warmest, safest smile. "It’s totally fine. I'd love to have you over."
She smiled back, tucking her dark hair behind her ear, completely hooked.
Smooth. I thought to myself as we walked to my car. Fucking smooth.
**
There's 2 chapters that using Deep POV. Please give me your critique and suggestion about my writing.
Little context about what happen so far : The MC is typical Delusional-Narcistic-Self Absorbed Young man. He's living together with his crush. The irony is the girl didn't tell the MC that she actually have a boyfriend. He already have some suspicion but he keep denial about it.
Heartbreak chapter :
Chapter 14 : Lingering Ghost
March, 2012.
Ninety days of playing house. The industrial chill of the loft had vanished, replaced by the permanent, sweet scent of chocolate and vanilla.
My mornings weren't lonely anymore; they were loud with the sizzle of batter. Pancakes. Every. Single. Day. I didn't even like pancakes before her. Now? I couldn't start the day without them. Her mess was everywhere—hair ties on the counter, socks on the sofa—and instead of annoying me, it made the place feel alive.
For the first time in my life, the silence in my head was gone. I was happy.
*
I kicked the door shut, balancing two bags of groceries. The apartment was quiet.
I found her on the balcony, wrapped in my hoodie, staring out at the Chicago skyline. She looked small against the vastness of the city lights.
I sat beside her, the cold metal chair seeping through my jeans. "Hey. Why the long face?"
I kissed her temple. She smelled like the wind.
She leaned into me, heavy, like she was carrying a weight. "Nothing. Just... enjoying the night."
"Uh-huh." I nudged her. "The night makes you look sad?"
"I’m not saaaad..." She let out a long, shaky exhale. "I just... miss you, I guess."
"Miss me?" I laughed. "I was gone for twenty minutes to buy milk and eggs, babe. I’m not going anywhere."
She didn't laugh. She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight enough to turn her knuckles white.
"Say... do you really love me, Daeron?"
The question hung in the cold air.
"I do." I pulled her closer, wrapping my arm around her to shield her from the wind. "I always do. You know that."
She brought my hand to her lips, kissing my knuckles. Her lips were cold. "If I made a mistake... would you hate me?"
A mistake?
My mind flashed back to the time she woke me up by poking a rubber dick against my ass cheek. I snorted.
"Well, depends on the mistake. If you’re going to prank me with that dildo next to my asshole again? Yeah, I’m gonna be pissed."
The tension broke. Her sad expression cracked into a genuine laugh.
"So if I prank you like that again, you’ll hate me?"
"I’ll be mad! But hate? No."
She turned her head, searching my face with an intensity that unsettled me. "Isn't being mad the same thing?"
"No! Anger is temporary. You get mad, you get over it. But hate?" I shook my head. "Hate is permanent. Hate is deep. Besides... I don’t think I'm capable of hating you."
"Why?" Her voice was a whisper.
I looked into those green eyes. "I don't know. I just can’t find a reason to."
For a split second, I saw it. A flash of pure, unadulterated sorrow in her eyes. Guilt? Fear? Before I could identify it, she buried her face in my chest, hiding from me.
"Can we cuddle in bed now?" her voice muffled against my hoodie. "I’m getting sleepy... But no sex. I’m still on my period."
I grinned, trying to lighten the heavy mood. "Why? I’m not scared of a little strawberry jam."
"Daeron!!!" She pulled back, swatting my arm. "That’s gross!!!"
We laughed, the sound echoing off the brick walls.
*
We curled up under the duvet. She held me tight, her leg hooked over mine, pressing her body against me as if she was afraid I’d disappear.
I ran my hand through her hair. I wanted to ask her what was wrong. I wanted to ask why she was asking about "hate." But the rhythm of her breathing against my chest was hypnotic, and I didn't want to ruin the peace.
I fell asleep with the smell of vanilla in my nose and a girl who wasn't entirely mine in my arms.
**
The smell hit me as soon as I left my last class. Grilled meat, onions, and cheap mustard. A vendor had set up a cart right near the campus edge.
It sparked a memory. High school. We had promised to find a hotdog stand in the city that could beat our old favorite. We never did. Between the clubs, her friends, and her "campus assignments" on the weekends, we just never got around to it.
I bought two loaded hotdogs and a chocolate milkshake—her favorite—and drove straight home. I could already picture her face lighting up when I walked through the door.
*
"Babe! Look what I found near campus!" I shouted, kicking the heavy loft door shut behind me.
Nothing.
Usually, there was music playing, or the TV humming, or the sound of her moving around. But the loft was dead quiet.
I walked into the living area. The air felt wrong. The usual mess—her shoes kicked off by the sofa, her magazines on the coffee table—was missing. The space looked too clean. Too empty.
"Jess?"
I walked into the bedroom.
The closet door was open. Her half was stripped bare. The vanity was clear. The scent of chocolate and vanilla was already fading.
Is she pranking me again?
"Jess!!!" I yelled, checking the bathroom. Empty. The balcony. Empty.
I ran back to the kitchen. That’s when I saw it. A single plate on the island. A stack of pancakes and a glass of orange juice. Exactly how she prepared them for me every morning.
But no note. No Jessica.
My hands started to shake. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It didn't even ring. It went straight to a dead signal. She had blocked me.
I dropped the hotdogs and the milkshake on the counter. The condensation on the plastic cup pooled on the granite. I grabbed my keys, bolted out the door, and drove to her campus like a madman.
*
I can’t. I can’t lose her like this.
I parked illegally near the UChicago quad and started running. I scanned the crowds of students, looking for a flash of ginger hair, a green jacket, anything. I asked random people if they knew a Jessica with red hair. They looked at me like I was insane.
Then it hit me. I didn't know anything.
I didn't know her major. I didn't know her dorm room number. I didn't even know her friends' last names. I just knew Mell, Josy, and Martha from that one sorority party months ago.
I kept running, my breath burning in my lungs, the cold air stinging my face. An hour passed. Then two. I was a ghost wandering through a city that didn't know her.
And then, near a coffee shop, I saw a familiar face.
"Hey!" I gasped, jogging up to her, my chest heaving. "You’re Martha, right?"
The girl stopped, squinting at me over her latte. "Yes?"
"It’s me... Daeron. I was with Jessica at that sorority co-ed party last winter."
Her face cleared. "Ah!! I remember you! You’re Jessica’s childhood friend, right?"
"What?" I blinked, the words not computing. "Do you know where she is?"
"Oh, she doesn't have class today. I think she’s still moving in with her boyfriend."
The world stopped spinning. The ambient noise of the campus cut out.
"What????" My voice was a hollow croak. "Moving in with... her boyfriend?"
"Yeah," Martha said casually, adjusting her bag. "Her boyfriend kept bothering her to move in with him. They hardly ever see each other since she has to share an apartment with her brother since winter break. It’s been tough on them."
"What are you talking about? Her boyfriend??"
Martha frowned, looking at me closely. "Huh? Aren't you her childhood friend? Yeah, her boyfriend from high school. Wait... you didn't know?"
My mind went blank. The pavement under my feet felt like it was dissolving. My stomach twisted violently, threatening to empty the coffee I’d had that morning. The blood drained from my face, leaving my skin ice cold.
Jessica has a boyfriend? Since high school?
"Daeron??" Martha took a step back, her eyes widening as she read my expression. "Oh my god. Don’t tell me... were you actually dating her?"
The question snapped the invisible cord holding me together.
I couldn't speak. My throat was sealed shut. I turned around and walked away. I didn't hear Martha calling after me. My body moved on autopilot, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached my car. I got in, gripped the steering wheel, and drove back to the loft.
*
I walked through the heavy metal door. The hotdogs were still on the counter, cold and congealing.
I stumbled into the bedroom and threw myself onto the bed. Our bed.
Then, the blood rushed back to my face, hot and furious. The dam broke. A choked, ugly sob tore out of my throat, followed by another. The air refused to enter my lungs. I was suffocating.
My heart hammered against my ribs, beating so hard it felt like it was trying to crack my sternum. The sharp, tingling pain in my chest that I’d felt months ago was back, but this time it was agonizing. It felt like I was being gutted alive.
I grabbed the bedsheets, my fingers digging into the fabric until I heard the cotton rip.
Why? WHY? WHY?????
I pulled my hand back and punched myself in the face. Hard. The pain blossomed across my cheekbone, but it wasn't enough to drown out the agony in my chest. I hit myself again.
Wake up. Wake up from this nightmare.
I wanted to escape. I wanted to close my eyes and wake up tomorrow to the smell of pancakes and the sound of her laugh. My energy depleted as fast as it had spiked. Exhaustion crashed over me like a wave.
Maybe this is it. If I sleep, I'll wake up next to her.
I curled into a ball on the torn sheets and let the darkness take me.
*
The chill slapped me awake.
The loft was pitch black. The sun had gone down hours ago. I sat up, my face throbbing, my eyes swollen tight.
I reached out across the mattress.
Nothing. Cold sheets.
There was no laughter in the loft. There was no prank waiting for me. There was no vanilla scent.
Her presence was gone. Jessica was gone.
**
"Psychological Breakdown" chapter :
Chapter 15 : Eye Opener
Two days.
Forty-eight hours of absolute nothingness. I skipped classes. I woke up, scavenged whatever was left in the fridge, drowned my brain in beer, and breathed cigarette smoke until my lungs burned. Then, I buried myself under the blankets, suffocating in the chocolate-vanilla scent she had left behind, praying for sleep to take me back to the illusion.
Every hour, my thumb hovered over her contact. Call. Text. Please. Just please come back. Silence. She wasn't coming back.
Day Three.
The tears were gone. The well was completely dry.
My body felt hollow, weak, and heavy. The truth finally settled into my bones like lead: she wasn't mine. She had never been mine. She belonged to someone else.
I took a ragged breath, trying to summon the discipline Sensei used to drill into me. Move. Do not stagnate. Find your center. I couldn't stay in this tomb. I needed a distraction before the silence killed me.
I stood under a freezing shower until my skin went numb, put on fresh clothes, and grabbed my keys. I had to go somewhere clean. Somewhere her ghost hadn't touched. I drove aimlessly, letting the city blur past until I spotted a random café I’d never seen before.
I pushed the door open, the bell chiming above me.
"Daeron? Is that you?"
The girl working behind the espresso machine was staring at me. I squinted, trying to place the face from a lifetime ago.
"Huh? Airin?"
"Yes!" She smiled brightly, wiping her hands on her apron. "Wow, you still remember me! How have you been?"
"Heh. I’ve been better," I muttered, taking a seat at the counter. "What about you? You seem pretty happy working here."
"Yeah, I love it. It's close to my place, too." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she scanned my face. "You look like a mess. Are you hungover?"
"Yeah. Drank way too much last night."
"Double espresso?"
"Please. Make it two."
Airin turned to the machine, the hissing steam filling the quiet shop.
"So," I said, desperate to force a normal conversation. "You still with Jones? How's that going?"
She stopped, looking over her shoulder with a sharp, bitter laugh. "You forgot? He dumped me back in high school."
"Oh. Shit, really? Sorry, I didn't know about that."
"Chill, it was years ago anyway. I have a new boyfriend now." She giggled, sliding the steaming ceramic cup in front of me. "I just figured your crew already knew he was only playing with me."
I frowned, the coffee cup warming my cold hands. "What do you mean? Playing you how?"
"Well, you know he dated Jessica, right?"
My hand froze.
"He just used me as a distraction," Airin continued, oblivious. "Sean caught them having sex at Jessica’s house, so Jones panicked and used me as a cover-up so her brother wouldn't kill him."
My muscles locked. The air in the café suddenly felt dangerously thin.
"Jones... was dating Jessica?"
Airin's smile vanished. Her expression turned serious, confused. "Huh? Wait. I thought you guys knew. You’re Jessica’s best friend."
The rich smell of the espresso suddenly made me violently nauseous. The coffee already in my stomach turned to acid. My breathing became shallow and heavy.
"Daeron?" Airin reached across the counter, touching my wrist. "Are you okay? You look sick."
"Yeah... I don't think I should drink this... hahaha." The laugh sounded deranged, even to me. I shoved some crumpled bills onto the counter. "Here... keep the change. Bye, Airin... thanks for the coffee."
I stumbled off the stool and walked out the door, the bell mocking me on the way out.
*
Jones? The boyfriend from high school that Martha talked about... was Jones?
I collapsed into the driver's seat, grabbing the steering wheel.
I gripped the leather until my knuckles turned white and my joints screamed.
Why? Jones was my brother. My crew. They had fucked. He was her first. Why didn't they tell me? Why? WHY? WHY???
A giggle bubbled up the back of my throat.
Fuck.
I laughed out loud. There were no tears left to cry. There was no hatred lingering in my head. I just felt sick. Sick to my absolute core.
It all made sense now. The reason she was so secretive in front of the boys back then? Because her actual boyfriend was sitting right there. The group date to Prom. The hesitations.
But wait... why was she seducing me? Was I the side piece? Was I the affair? Did I betray my own best friend without even knowing it? Am I the bad guy here?
I laughed louder, my head falling back against the headrest.
Yeah. That must be it. It’s because of me. I was the poison. I betrayed Alvin, too. Back in sophomore year of high school, I was supposed to be Alvin's wingman for Jessica, but I kept getting closer to her instead. I stole her attention. Alvin backed off the Homecoming party because he knew I liked her.
I’m the traitor. I ruin everything.
The laughter morphed into heavy, manic panting.
I remembered Alvin deciding to busy himself with Faye, rooting for me to go to the party. Yes! That’s it! Busy! I must make myself busy! I’d skipped class for three days now.
YES! THAT’S IT!
I just need to go to the library. If I study, it will be fine. Studying is a great choice! Everything is fine!
My hands shook violently as I jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and I tore out of the parking lot, driving straight toward the campus library like a man possessed.
**
The heavy oak doors of the library shut behind me, cutting off the noise of the campus.
The air smelled like sandalwood, stale coffee, and decaying paper. It was suffocatingly quiet. Freshmen were huddled around tables, highlighting textbooks and whispering about group projects. Normal college stuff.
Yes! My brain buzzed with manic energy. This is it. The perfect distraction. I am a student. It is time to study. Everything is fine!
I claimed a desk in the back corner, secluded by tall bookshelves. I practically ripped my laptop from my bag, slamming it onto the desk. I pulled up the syllabus for my business course, staring at the screen, determined to catch up on the three days I'd spent drowning in beer and self-pity.
I stared at the words.
I stared for five minutes. The letters blurred together. None of it made sense.
FUCK! I don't understand SHIT! My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Who wrote this fucking garbage?!
I slammed the laptop shut, my chest heaving. The manic high was already fading, the dark void threatening to pull me back down. I needed something else. I leaned back in my chair, scanning the room like a starving animal looking for a scrap.
My eyes snagged on a girl two tables over.
Latina. Dark hair in a bun. Fair skin. She was resting her chin on her hand, completely absorbed in a massive textbook. As she read, she absentmindedly bit down on the cap of her pen.
Shit. She was cute.
Actually, she was gorgeous. But she was hiding it under an oversized sweater and a nervous posture. Such a waste.
I stood up, sliding into the aisle of the bookshelves, pretending to scan the spines while I kept her in my peripheral vision. She shifted in her seat.
Sweet Jesus. Look at that ass!
The manic energy flared back to life. I should talk to her. Alvin made his move on Faye to get over his shit, right? Why shouldn't I? YES! A quiet nerd like her in the back of the library? She had to be single. She was the perfect target.
I started walking toward her. My heart was racing.
CONFIDENCE. The word echoed in my head. Jessica always said she loved it when I was confident.
A phantom pain spiked in my chest at her name, but I forced it down, pasting a smooth, effortless smile on my face.
"Hey," I said, my voice low enough not to echo. "What are you studying?"
She jumped, dropping her pen on the desk. She looked up at me with wide, startled brown eyes. "Oh... Umm... I'm just reviewing my econ notes."
I pulled out the chair next to her and sat down without asking. "Oh, wow. Freshman? I've never seen you around the business wing before."
She shrank back slightly, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. "Uh-hum... yes. Freshman."
"I'm Daeron." I held out my hand.
She looked at it for a second before shaking it. Her grip was soft. "Gabriella."
"Why are you sitting all the way back here in the dark, Gabriella?"
"Umm... I just like it." She broke eye contact, looking down at her notes. "I can concentrate better when I'm alone."
Ah. Too aggressive. I needed to pivot.
"Oh, I'm bothering you, then." I stood up immediately, putting my hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry, Gabriella. You just looked like you needed some company. My bad."
I gave her a warm, slightly apologetic smile, turned my back, and walked to my desk.
I opened my laptop again, not reading a single word on the screen. I just waited.
Ten minutes passed. From the corner of my eye, I saw her look up. Then again. When she looked over a third time, I turned my head and met her gaze dead-on, flashing a slow smile.
She turned bright red and dropped her head so fast she almost hit the table.
HAHAHAHAHA. Gotcha.
Thirty minutes later, I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps approaching my desk.
"Umm... Daeron, right?"
I looked up, feigning mild surprise. "Yes?"
She stood there, hugging her notebook to her chest. "I noticed your textbook earlier. You're a business major too, right?"
"Yeah. I am." I leaned back. "Did you want to study together?"
She smiled, a tiny, genuine thing, fidgeting with the spiral wire of her notebook. "Hm-mph. If... if it doesn't bother you."
"Not at all," I said smoothly. "I could probably give you some pointers. My GPA last year was actually pretty solid."
Her face lit up. "Really? Can I have your number?"
"Sure."
I typed my number into her phone, and she waved a shy goodbye before hurrying out of the library.
I sat there in the silence, staring at my phone.
Damn. Look at that. I'm a fucking charmer. First try, first win.
I threw my head back and laughed silently at the ceiling.
HAHAHAHAHA! It was working. The distraction was working. As long as I kept winning, I wouldn't have to feel the hole in my chest.
*
I cut the engine. The underground parking garage was dead silent.
Just looking at the elevator doors made my stomach twist into violent knots. Fuck. I can't go up there. I need to stay away from that loft. I grabbed my phone and dialed Nikolay. I needed a distraction that involved loud bass and cheap vodka.
"Chyo kavo, Derro!"
"Hey. Where are you guys?"
"Blyad! Did you not read your phone? I texted you three days ago, Derro! We are on a road trip!"
"A trip? Now? It's the middle of the semester."
"Bozhe moi! We are not on vacation, Derro! We are making a strategic retreat from academia!"
I let out a weak chuckle. "You guys are insane."
"So what is going on, Derro? Why are you calling me at nine at night? Usually, you are busy banging Systra right now."
The nickname felt like a knife slipping between my ribs. "Nah," I lied smoothly. "I just wanted to come crash at your place today, actually."
Silence on the line. The background noise of the car radio faded as Nikolay probably covered the mic. When he spoke again, the drunken cheer was entirely gone.
"Did something happen, Broda?"
"No. Nothing. I’ll fill you in when you get back."
"... You are sure?"
"Yes, Brotha. Enjoy the retreat."
".... I will call you the minute I cross the city line, Derro. We are back next week. Do not do anything stupid. Understand?"
"Hahaha, don’t worry, Brotha. Have fun."
I hung up. I dropped the phone on the passenger seat and rubbed my face. Fuck. I had no choice. I took the elevator up and unlocked the heavy metal door to my loft.
It was a graveyard.
The air was freezing, but worse than the cold were the ghosts. I couldn't look at the bed—the ghost of her chocolate-vanilla perfume was suffocating. I looked at the kitchen island and heard the phantom sizzle of pancake batter and her laugh. I glanced at the balcony glass and remembered the exact weight of her leaning against me.
The apartment was shrinking. I couldn't breathe. I collapsed onto the leather sofa in the living room, refusing to step foot in the bedroom. I buried my face in my hands.
Bzzt!
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, half-hoping for the impossible.
Gabriella: Hi, Daeron! Are you busy tomorrow? Perhaps.. we can study together again?
The crushing weight in my chest lifted just a fraction. A slow, manic smile spread across my face.
Right. The distraction. I typed back a quick, charming reply. As the text bubbles popped up back and forth, the ghosts in the loft started to fade. Tomorrow was going to be better.
**
The next few days were a blur of textbooks, cafeteria lunches, and calculated charm.
Gabriella was exactly what I needed. She was sweet, incredibly smart, and easiest of all, she looked at me like I hung the moon. During our study breaks, I played the perfect gentleman, asking about her life, listening intently, and feeding off the validation she gave me.
But by Thursday, the campus library was a madhouse. Midterms were approaching.
"Damn, it's packed today," I muttered, scanning the sea of stressed students.
Gabriella sighed, pointing her pen toward the back. "Even our spot is taken."
I glared at the two freshmen sitting at our table. Fuck. Now what? Then, the idea hit me. It was brilliant. It was slightly twisted, but it was brilliant.
"Hey," I said, leaning casually against a bookshelf. "Want to just study at my place? I actually have a mini-library in my loft. It doesn’t have a massive collection, but all my business books and notes from last year are there."
"Whoa!" Her brown eyes went wide, reflecting pure awe. "You have a mini-library in your apartment?! That’s amazing!!"
She realized how eager she sounded and quickly stepped back, her cheeks turning pink. "... I mean... if it’s really okay that I visit your place... I don't want to impose—"
"Hey." I cut her off gently, stepping into her space and giving her my warmest, safest smile. "It’s totally fine. I'd love to have you over."
She smiled back, tucking her dark hair behind her ear, completely hooked.
Smooth. I thought to myself as we walked to my car. Fucking smooth.
**
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