Mag-log inConfession time...!š¤§
I don't know what I'm doing anymore.š
Wait, no. I mean, I know, š but like, I don't quite know how to continue from hereš“. No, seriously. I am sitting here with my laptop open, staring at the blinking cursor like a personal insult I don't know how to reply.
I know Noah is going to practice. I know Chase is going to face his father. I know those two things are happening. And yet my brain has decided to short-circuit like a cheap charger in the rainš“. Like, how should that play out?š¤·āā
Let's forget Noah for now; he's going for practice. What's going to happen there is pretty basic. Predictable. Dramalessš. So weāre putting Noah on the ice and leaving him there for now.
The real problem is waiting in that cold, expensive villa. Chase and his fatherš. Should there be some aggression? A whole lot of pure, unfiltered aggression? Should I let Adrian stay terrifyingly calm while Chase slowly loses his mind? Or both of them be calm and rational?āNo, wait, scrap thatš. I doubt Chase and Adrian can talk calmly and rationally at this point. Lolš . Those two cannot sit across from each other and have a healthy conversation. Not after everything. Not after Chase chose Noah in front of him.
Ahhhhhhhhhh.......!š«
There has to be drama, right? Right. And I want a twist as well, right? Rightš. And you guys don't want something boring as well, right? Rightš. There has to be something that makes you sit up and go āoh no.ā Because if I write a boring confrontation after all this build-up, I deserve to be hunted by my own readers.
And the worst part? I can feel the scene in my chest. I can feel how heavy itās going to be. I just donāt know which way to swing the knife yetš©.
So here I am, publicly admitting that I am currently losing a fight with a blank pageš. Would you like a twist that makes everything worse?š Or do you want a tiny, fragile moment of hope before everything collapses again?šŖ
On a side note... I just graduated from uni with a BS.c,š and I'm supposed to start my life as a functioning adultš¤, but like Chase said,
šØ"I'm considering resigning... as a functioning adult"
...and I haven't even started.š
Noah got back to South Quad at six in the morning, with the sky going gray behind the dorms and the early joggers just beginning to loop the Diag.He had meant to slip in unseen, but Reid was awake anyway, sitting on the edge of his bed in boxers and a faded Michigan shirt, phone in one hand, the other pressed to his mouth in the posture of someone who had been about to call someone and hadnāt quite decided who.The door clicked shut. Reid looked up.For a few seconds neither of them said a word. Reidās eyes traveled from Noahās face to his sleeve to the dried blood at his collar, and Noah watched him do the arithmetic, the way you watch someone count change. When he spoke, his voice was careful.āWhere were you?āāWorking.āāWorking.ā Reidās eyes dropped to Noahās hands, the knuckles gone dark and tight. āAt a job that does that?āāYeah.āāNoah.āāIām fine.ā He crossed the room, dropped his bag on the floor and sat on his bed. Every muscle in his side tightened, and he kept his face
Chase didnāt get up.He sat in the gravel with his back against the car door, one knee drawn up, and watched the place where Noah had been. The drive was empty now. The gates stood open at the far end, and past them there was only dark road and the hum of the trees. His face throbbed in a dozen places. He could taste blood, and he could feel a tooth that wasnāt quite where it had been. None of it registered. He was listening for footsteps and there werenāt any.For the first time, he didnāt look back.He had thought, somewhere in the last couple of months, that he knew what it would feel like to lose Noah. He had been wrong. Heād imagined something loud, a slammed door, a last cruel sentence. He hadnāt imagined the quiet.The front door opened behind him. He heard it the way you hear a thing youāve been waiting for, and he didnāt turn.His father came down the steps without hurry. The light from the hall fell across the gravel and put a long, tidy shadow across Chaseās lap. For a whil
Noah wasnāt angry yet. That was the strange part.He stood in the doorway with his arm clamped against his ribs and the taste of copper in his mouth, and he waited for the rage to arrive. It didnāt. Something quieter and colder came instead, a flat, clear stillness, like the moment before a blade goes through a pane of glass.He looked at Chase. At the boy whoād sat across a desk from him on the first day and watched him like a problem to be solved. The captain. The one with the hands that knew exactly where to land. The one whose name was the first he had learned in this whole city.The thing that started everything.āYou?āChase took one step. āNoahā¦āāIt was you?ā His voice was barely audible. He kept his eyes on Chaseās face because he could not stand to look at anything else. āYou hired him.āAnd Chase, who could lie to a coach or a camera or a ref without breaking his stride, didnāt. Noah watched him try. Watched the shape of the denial form and collapse behind his teeth.āI did
Chase didnāt knock.He pushed the study door open hard enough that it struck the stop and shivered back, and he crossed the room before the sound had finished. The lamp was on. The leather folder from the other night lay closed on the desk, and Adrian sat behind it with a glass in his hand, looking at nothing.āYou knew where you were sending him.āAdrian didnāt look up. āIf youāre here to complain about another assignment, youāre wasting your breath.āāEast of Mack. Castellanās.ā Chaseās voice shook, and he hated that it did. He had spent the last eleven minutes in the hall deciding not to shout, and the effort was costing him. āTwo guards. Two. You know what that neighborhood is. You know what that crew does to anyone who walks in without an army.āāIām aware.āāThen youāre doing this deliberately. Youāre sending him places you know he canāt survive, just to punish me.āAdrian swirled the whiskey and watched it settle. āYouāre giving yourself too much importance.āāThen why make sur
The text arrived at 9:40 on a Thursday night, eleven days after the last one.Car at the east entrance. 10:30. Dress dark.Noah read it standing in the middle of his dorm room with a FIN 300 problem set half finished on the desk, a valuation model that refused to balance. His stomach turned over, and he hated that some small, stupid part of him felt relief. The silence had been worse. Silence meant something was being decided somewhere above his head.āEverything okay?ā Reid looked up from the bed, headphones around his neck.āStudy group.ā Noah pulled a black hoodie over his head. āDonāt wait up.āāAt ten-thirty?āāGroup project. Half of them work nights.āReid frowned, and Noah felt the frown follow him all the way down the stairwell. He was running out of lies Reid would let him get away with.The SUV waited at the curb with its lights off. Two men sat in front. The older one, who had once told him you didnāt call, nodded without a word. The younger one stared straight ahead.Noah
The man from the stands was in the hallway outside Chaseās room the next morning, pretending to read his phone.Chase walked past him without a word. He took the back stairs, crossed the kitchen and went out through the garden door, and when he checked the reflection in the glass, the man was ten paces behind him. Adrian had stopped being subtle. That was almost a relief.It meant the work was reaching something.For two weeks Chase had done what his father had trained him to do his whole life, only in reverse. Follow the money. Every shipment had a payment trail, every payment a shell, every shell a name on a document in some county office. He started with the Voss Foundation and its one patient, protected payment, the same amount every month for nine years, signed off by Adrian himself. He pulled at it at night on a laptop Adrian didnāt know existed. A frozen account here. A misrouted invoice there. Small cuts, none traceable, each leaving a little less of the structure standing.He
The hospital never slept. It was a deep, creaking, mechanical, unstoppable breath, and Noah felt it the moment he crossed the sliding glass door of Detroit Medical Center. The antiseptic odor struck him first, it was clean and suffocating at the same time, and then there was the low hum of the fluo
Noah Hayes didnāt know it yet, but he had just thirty two hours before everything in his life collapsed.The pen in his hand felt heavier than it should have been, like the weight of all that he had survived was pressing down into that final stroke. He stard at the bottom of the paper where his nam
By the time Noah reached the university, morning had already settled in fully, bright and indifferent to everything he had endured just hours before. the school felt like a different world entirely, much too normal and too untouched. He knew he was late and he didnāt need to check the time to confi
The icy night air struck Noah the moment he stepped outside the building, filling his lungs with a cold that felt almost deliberate, and it was not just the temperature. It was the kind of cold that seemed to carry intent, as if the night itself were watching him.Behind him, the door closed with a







