Chapter 20 - The Vanishing Point

Earlier in the Day

The morning sun sliced through the heavy curtains like a blade. Elliott stirred, the movement sending a fresh wave of nausea crashing through him. His head throbbed with a dull ache, the kind of hangover that felt less like a headache and more like a physical haunting.

The room smelled of stale gin and the medicinal tang of the "cure" Julian had left on the nightstand.

Then, the memories hit. They came in disjointed, sickening flashes. The mail blast. The video of Noah kissing Leo. Kicking Noah out. Then Julian. The bottle. The world tilted until it finally went black.

"You're finally awake," a voice murmured from the doorway.

Julian stood there, looking immaculate in a tailored suit. He was a stark contrast to Elliott’s crumpled state; looking like a man who hadn’t spent the night watching his ex drown in a bottle.

"Julian... you’re still here?" Elliott croaked.

“I couldn’t leave you like that,” Julian said, his tone dripping with the grace of a savior.

Elliott’s eyes darted around the rumpled sheets. “Where is my phone?”

"I put it away," Julian said, crossing the room to wrench the curtains open.

The light was blinding. Elliott hissed, squinting against the sudden glare. “What? Why?”

“You needed rest, Elliott. You don’t need the distraction of Noah or the circus he’s running right now.”

A chill ran down Elliott’s spine. Julian was inserting himself back into the narrative, weaving a web Elliott hadn't asked to be caught in.

“I’m not yours to ‘protect’ or manage,” Elliott said, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as he held out a palm. "Phone. Now."

Julian raised his hands in mock surrender, pulling the device from his pocket and dropping it into Elliott's hand.

Elliott scrolled frantically. Nothing. No missed calls, no desperate texts from Noah. Just… silence.

He forced himself upright, his head spinning. “Julian, thanks for… whatever this was. But I need to—”

“Clear your head?” Julian interrupted, his smile too smooth to be comforting. “I know.”

“Yes.” Elliott nodded, staring at the empty call log.

“Well, you won’t find peace here,” Julian said, stepping closer. “Remember that cabin in Shere, where we spent our last Valentine's Day?”

Elliott didn't look up; his thumb was flying across the screen, searching for a thread that wasn't there.

Julian’s hand moved, covering the screen. “Hey. Look at me. The cabin is the perfect place to disappear for a while.”

Elliott shook his head, a frown deepening. “I don’t know. I think… I think some of my messages are gone. I can’t find the thread with Noah.”

“That’s because you deleted them,” Julian said softly.

Elliott’s head snapped up.

“You don’t remember? You spiraled. You went on a deleting spree, blocked his number, and swore you were done.” Julian watched him, his expression unreadable.

Elliott let out a ragged sigh, rubbing his face. “Of course. God, that sounds like me.”

“So, what do you say? A week at the cabin? Just to breathe?”

“I don’t know, Julian. I’m not ready to… dabble into anything.”

“Then don’t,” Julian countered easily. “How about we just go as friends?”

Elliott looked at the empty phone, then at the man offering him an escape from the wreckage of his life. He felt the trap closing, but he was too tired to fight it.

"Fine," Elliott whispered. "Just friends."

“I have an errand to run,” Julian said, checking his watch. “I’ll be back by 4:00pm to pick you up.”

He leaned in, his thumb grazing Elliott’s jawline. He held it there for a second too long, his touch heavy with a familiarity Elliott wasn't ready for.

The intimacy felt like a weight. Elliott’s skin prickled, a knot of discomfort tightening in his chest. After a beat, he pointedly tilted his face away, breaking the contact.

Julian didn't seem offended. If anything, a small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. With a final, lingering look, Julian stepped out. 

***

1:00pm

Noah stood with Leo in the alley behind Black Halo, his heart beating fast as he watched his phone get wiped through Leo’s phone. The last tracked location? The Gilded Room.

For a long minute, Noah couldn't move.

 

Julian was staying at a hotel close to the Gilded Room. If the phone was there, it meant he was there. 

Pieces of the puzzle clicked. Sebastian had come to Black Halo for dirt on him and sent the mass-mail. The "accidental" bump in the Administrative Block wasn't clumsy, it was to steal his phone and deliver it to the one man who benefited the most from his ruin: Julian.

But he needed proof to confront Elliott. His plan was to use Elliott to force Julian into dropping the accusations and killing the smear campaign, or he would name Elliott as one of his high-profile clients.

And if Elliott still hated him? Fine. Elliott had already abandoned him when he needed him the most. This wasn't about love anymore; it was about survival.

“How do I get to Sebastian?” Noah muttered to himself. 

Then, he remembered. Bena mentioned she was meeting with him at 3:00 PM in the coffee shop on campus.

Noah checked his watch. He had two hours. 

Without a word, he shoved Leo back his phone and started toward the street. 

***

2:30 PM.

Noah sat in the outside cafe across from the coffee shop, his eyes fixed on the entrance. 

At 2:55 PM, a car pulled up. Sebastian stepped out, Bena at his side.

Noah didn’t wait. He was across the street in seconds, his strides long. He reached their table just as they settled in.

SLAM. The table rattled as Noah’s palm hit the wood. "Where is my phone?"

Sebastian and Bena jolted, the surrounding chatter dying instantly. Noah looked like a man who had crawled out of a shipwreck; suit wrinkled, hair a mess, eyes burning with a manic, terrifying clarity.

"Noah, stop this!" Bena glared at him.

"He took it, Bena. Ask him." Noah’s voice was a low growl.

She turned to Sebastian, her brow arched. 

"I don't know what he's talking about," Sebastian stammered.

"You were at Black Halo asking Leo about me. He identified you," Noah pressed, leaning in until they were inches apart. "That same night the mail blast went out. I know you are behind all these. Just give me my phone."

The color drained from Sebastian’s face, leaving him a ghostly, sickly white. He looked at Bena, his eyes filling with the devastating fear of losing the only thing that had felt real in years.

"I... I dropped it off," Sebastian whispered.

Bena recoiled as if he’d struck her, her expression twisting into a mask of pure horror.

"With who?" Noah demanded.

"I don't know! He told me to leave it with the bartender at The Gilded Room."

"Give me your phone." Noah didn't ask; he snatched it from the table.

He scrolled through the encrypted threads, a string of orders from a restricted number. But the final message directing him where to drop the phone hadn’t been masked. Noah ran the digits. The name popped up: Julian Thorne.

"Gotcha," Noah breathed.

"I’m truly sorry, Noah," Sebastian choked out.

Noah didn’t even look at him. "You’re only sorry you got caught."

3:30 PM. Noah pocketed the phone and bolted from the shop.

***

4:10pm

Noah skidded around the corner of Elliott’s street just as a Julian’s black sedan pulled away from the curb. Through the tinted glass, he caught a glimpse of Elliott and Julian in the backseat, sitting side by side.

"ELLIOTT!" he screamed, the sound tearing at his throat. "ELLIOTT, STOP!"

He didn't care about the stares from passersby or the shred of dignity he had left. He broke into a desperate sprint, his sneakers skidding on the asphalt. He reached the car, his palms slamming against the cold metal of the trunk.

Inside, Julian caught Noah’s frantic reflection in the rearview mirror. Without breaking eye contact with the mirror, he reached for the dial and increased the music. He turned to Elliott with a smile. Elliott smiled back, oblivious of Noah collapsing in the exhaust smoke behind them.

Noah stopped in the middle of the street, gasping for air. Every breath felt like it was filled with broken glass.

He stumbled toward the building’s entrance, nearly tripping over his own feet. "Where are they going?" he wheezed at the doorman. 

The doorman looked at Noah with a mix of pity and discomfort. "I can't say, Noah. Prof. Vance didn't give a destination." He paused. "But he packed a bag. Seems to me that he will be gone for a while."

Noah’s heart sank. The time away was all Julian needed to finish what he started.