Chapter 4: A fragment from the past

Riven dreamt in heat and in breathless scenarios. A name echoed louder than thunder.

“Kael”

It slipped from his lips like a prayer, dragging him out of sleep with a gasp. Sweat clung to his chest, hands twisted in the blanket like he’d fought something in the dark.

He sat there breathing hard, eyes adjusting to the dimness.

Just a dream, he told himself. Only a dream.

But it didn’t feel like one. Not in the way his bones trembled..And definitely not in how clearly he remembered the shape of Kael’s mouth when it said his name.

He climbed out of bed on silent feet, the wooden floor cold beneath him. His head felt fogged — not from alcohol, but from something heavier.

At the fireplace, he opened the old cabinet.

Inside was filled worn magazines, faded postcards, a box of letters that smelled like dust and loss. At the very bottom, shoved between yellowed newspapers, was a thick leather-bound photo album. Still wondering how he didn't take notice or see any of them all this while,his fingers were already moving, trembling slightly, flipping open the cover.

And then — everything went white.

                                    *******

Seven Years Ago

The locker room reeked of sweat, Axe body spray, and lies.

Riven Vale was sixteen. A boy built from charm and secrets. The kind of boy people adored on instinct. Teachers, girls, coaches and literally almost everyone wanted him close.

But no one really knew him. Except for a boy named Kael. 

Kael Quinn didn’t belong. Not in that school. He was the scholarship kid with bruised arms and duct-taped sneakers. He sat in the back of every class, spoke only when forced, and never came to parties.

But he watched Riven. And Riven watched him back.

Weeks passed like that and glances in the hallway that felt like collisions were shared. Silent tension buzzed in the air between them. Until one night, when Riven pulled Kael into a supply closet, shoved him against the shelves, and kissed him like he couldn’t breathe without it.

And that was how it started.

Late-night rendezvous in the theater wings. Hands sliding under desks. Kael sneaking through Riven’s bedroom window like a secret too sharp to name. Riven pinning him to walls and doorframes and silence. It was messy, hidden, and breathless.

It was everything.But Riven never told a soul.

Not even when Kael whispered, “You make me feel like I matter “

Because Riven was scared.

Scared of being seen. Scared of what it would cost him. Scared of loving a boy when the world expected him to be perfect and straight.

So by day, he avoided Kael. Pretended not to see him in the halls. And when the rumors started — quiet jabs, ugly jokes, whispers about the “faggot behind the bleachers” — Riven did the one thing Kael didn’t expect.

He laughed out loud with them, and Kael heard it. 

That particular night, Kael showed up at a party, red-eyed and shaking, tried to pull Riven aside.

But Riven pulled away. Public. Harsh. Made a joke cruel enough that the laughter stuck in people’s memories.

Kael left with pain that night. No one saw him again for months and then years...

                               ********

Riven was still sitting on the cabin floor, the photo album open in his lap. The dream clung to him like fog, thick and slow, when the fire popped behind him and snapped him back.

He turned pages so fast with nervous fingers.. Reaching midway, He immediately froze.

A photo. 

High school gym.

A banner stretched over the bleachers: Harbor’s Edge High — Winter Spirit Rally 2015.

A blur of sweaty teenage boys in half-shirts and streaked face paint. But one figure stood out instantly.

Him.

Younger, tousled black hair, a dimpled grin, a silver thumb ring. He looked so alive it almost hurt to look at. And somehow, beside him was Kael, who was not yet the man he’d become. Thinner, Sharper and bruised in the corners. But the eyes were the same. Piercing and unforgiving.

They were shoulder to shoulder, laughing at something just out of frame. Riven’s hand rested casually on Kael’s knee.

His stomach turned.

“No…” he whispered, he carefully flipped the page.

Another photo of them..This one taken in secret under the bleachers.

Kael’s mouth pressed to Riven’s throat. Riven’s eyes closed. His body angled toward Kael like he was gravity.

A Polaroid pohot.. faded with time. In the corner, scrawled in ink: 10/18/15.

Riven’s hands trembled. His entire body began to shake.

He hadn’t just stumbled into Kael’s orbit nor run

into a strange town.

He had lived here,breath here..

And somehow , he had forgotten it all.