Chapter 5: The Confession

DERICK'S POV

I didn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. That flicker of pain before the ice returned. The way his hands trembled when he walked away. The sound of my own voice screaming that word into the crowd.

Disease.

I'd called him a disease.

And the worst part? I still wasn't sure if I was lying.

The sun crept through my window like a guilty witness. Pale. Accusing. I'd spent the night on the bathroom floor, surrounded by shattered glass from my phone, replaying every second of the party on a loop.

My heart hadn't stopped pounding since I touched his wrist.

I was still on the floor when my door slammed open.

"Get up."

Leo. My best friend. The only person on this campus who actually gave a damn about me.

"Go away."

"Get. Up." He grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet. His eyes went wide when he saw my face. "Jesus, Derick. You look like death. What the hell happened last night?"

I told him. Everything. The roses. The confession. The way Ciel saw through it all. The text from the unknown number.

Leo listened. His face went pale. Then red. Then something I couldn't read.

"Derick." His voice was dangerously quiet. "You are the biggest idiot I have ever met."

"I know."

"You actually thought," He stopped. Pressed his palms to his eyes. "You thought you could play with someone like Ciel Laurent and get away with it? That kid has been broken by people who were supposed to love him. And you thought you could waltz in and break him more? For what? Ego? Revenge?"

"I,"

"You're not a villain, Derick." His voice cracked. "You're just a scared little boy who doesn't know how to feel anything real."

The words hit like a blade.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

"Leo,"

"Don't." He released me. Stepped back. His eyes were wet. "I can't fix this for you. But I can tell you one thing." He pointed at the door. "The academy board just made an announcement. Mandatory mixed pairs showcase. Partners assigned by draw."

My blood went cold. "And?"

"Congratulations." His voice was flat. "You're skating with Ciel Laurent."

The locker room. Twenty minutes later.

My legs carried me there without permission. Every step felt like walking to my own execution.

I found him at his locker. He was already in his practice gear, black leggings, white jacket, silver hair pulled back. His back was to me, but I could see his shoulders shaking.

He was crying.

"Laurent."

He froze. Didn't turn around.

"Go away, Derick."

"Please. I need to explain,"

"Explain what?" He spun around. His eyes were red. His cheeks were wet. But his voice was pure ice. "Explain how you spent three days pretending to care about me? Explain how you got down on one knee with roses and lies? Explain how you screamed that word at me in front of everyone?"

"It wasn't all lies."

"Don't." He stepped closer. His hands were shaking. "Don't you dare. I heard you, Derick. I heard every word. 'Liking you is like a disease.' That's what you said. That's what you think of me."

"I didn't mean it,"

"You meant every word." His voice cracked open. "Because people like you always mean it. You see someone like me and you think we're broken. Contagious. Something to be destroyed. Something to be thrown away."

"That's not,"

"I know about the scheme."

The words stopped my heart.

"Your father's plan," Ciel continued. His voice dropped to a whisper. "The contract. The rinks. The humiliation. I know all of it."

"How did you—"

"Someone sent me a recording." His eyes burned into mine. "A recording of you telling your father you were going to seduce me and destroy me. It came last night. Just after the party."

I couldn't breathe.

"Ciel, I—"

"You failed." He stepped closer. His voice was barely audible. "I know you were lying about loving me. I know you were using me. And I don't care."

He started to walk away.

I grabbed his arm.

"Let go." His voice shook.

"No." My voice cracked. "No, I can't. I can't let you walk away."

"Derick,"

"What if I wasn't lying?"

He froze.

"What if the original plot was real?" I dropped to my knees. Right there. In the middle of the locker room. The cold concrete bit into my skin. I didn't care. "What if I came here to destroy you, and then I actually met you, and everything changed?"

"You're lying,"

"I'm not." I looked up at him. My vision was blurry. I didn't realize I was crying until I tasted salt. "I'm not lying about this. I don't know what's happening to me. I've never felt this way before. I don't understand it. I don't want to understand it. But Ciel," My voice broke. "What if I am actually infected? What if liking you isn't a lie? What if it's the only real thing I've ever felt?"

He stared down at me. His face was unreadable.

Then his walls cracked.

Just slightly. Just enough for me to see the terror underneath. The hope. The desperate, aching hope of someone who'd been waiting their whole life to be seen.

"You're serious," he whispered.

"I've never been more serious about anything."

He pulled his arm free. But he didn't walk away.

"You don't even know me," he said. "You don't know what I've been through. What I've survived. What I've done to keep myself safe."

"Then show me."

"What?"

"Show me." I stayed on my knees. "Show me the real you. The broken you. The scared you. I've shown you mine. It's only fair."

He laughed. It was a broken sound. Hollow. But beneath it, something cracked open.

"You really are pathetic."

"I know." I grabbed his hand. Pressed it to my chest. "Feel that? That's my heart. It's been pounding since the moment I touched you on the ice. Since before that. Since the first time I watched you skate and couldn't breathe."

"Derick,"

"If you walk away now, I'll let you go. I'll let you hate me. I deserve it." I squeezed his hand. "But if there's any part of you that believes me, any part of you that wants to believe me, then stay. Please. I'm begging you."

He looked at my hand on his. Then at my face. Then at the floor.

His shoulders sagged.

"I don't know what to believe anymore," he whispered. "I don't know what's real and what's a game. My whole life has been a performance. My mother. My sponsors. The rumors I started about myself just to keep people away." He laughed again. "Did you know about that? Did you know I spread those homophobic rumors about myself so no one would get close?"

I nodded. "I found out."

"And you stayed anyway?"

"I stayed."

"Why?"

I pulled him down. Down to his knees. Down to my level. I cupped his face in my hands. His skin was cold. His tears were warm.

"Because you're the bravest person I've ever met," I said. "Because you've been fighting alone for so long. Because every time I see you, I feel like I'm drowning and I don't want to be saved. And because, " I stopped. Swallowed. "Because I think I'm falling in love with you. For real. And it terrifies me."

He stared at me. His eyes searched mine. Looking for the lie. Looking for the trap.

He found nothing but the truth.

Then he started to cry.

And this time, he didn't hide it.

"I'm scared," he admitted. "I've been scared my whole life. But right now? I'm more scared of walking away than staying."

"Then stay."

"Promise me." He grabbed my shirt. Pulled me closer. His grip was desperate. "Promise me this isn't another game."

"I promise."

"Promise me you'll never call me a disease again."

"I promise." I pressed my forehead to his. "You're not a disease. You're the cure."

He laughed. Actually laughed. A wet, broken, beautiful sound that shattered something inside me.

"You really are pathetic."

"I know." I pulled him into my arms. "I know."

We stayed there. On the locker room floor. Holding each other like we were drowning.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't pretending.

Later. Derick's dorm.

I stared at my reflection.

Still shaking. Still scared. Still confused.

But for the first time, I didn't want to run.

My phone buzzed. A new message. From the same unknown number.

Unknown: Sweet moment in the locker room. Almost made me cry. But you should know—I'm watching everything. And when the time is right, I'll destroy you both.

I stared at the screen. My blood turned to ice.

I typed back: Who are you?

Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Unknown: Someone who knows the truth. Someone who knows you're still lying. About everything.

My hands shook.

Me: What truth?

Unknown: The truth about why you're really here. The truth about your father. The truth about what happens to Ciel if you fail.

I couldn't breathe.

Me: What are you talking about?

Unknown: Ask your father. Ask him about the real reason he sent you to this academy. Ask him about the contract. Ask him about what happens to Ciel if you don't deliver.

The dots vanished.

I called the number. It rang. Then clicked off.

I called again. Voicemail. A generic automated message.

I threw my phone against the wall. It shattered. Pieces of glass scattered across the floor like the roses at the party.

I sank to my knees.

And for the first time in years, I didn't know what to do.

Because the hunter had become the hunted.

And the prey I'd been chasing?

He was the only one I wanted to protect.

I pressed my forehead to the cold tile floor and whispered into the dark.

"What have I done?"

Then my door opened.

I looked up.

Ciel stood in the doorway. His face was pale. His hands were shaking. He was still in his practice clothes, still wet from the ice.

But his eyes—

His eyes were wild with terror.

"Derick." His voice cracked. "Someone just sent me something. A video. Of us. In the locker room. On our knees."

My blood froze.

"They're threatening to release it," he continued. "To my mother. To the sponsors. To the press. Unless I withdraw from Nationals."

He stepped closer. His hand found mine.

"Derick, what did we do? Who is this? What have we started?"

I opened my mouth.

But before I could answer, my shattered phone buzzed again.

A single text from the unknown number.

Unknown: Tick-tock, lovers. You have 24 hours. Then everyone finds out the truth.

I looked at Ciel.

His face was white.

Mine was the same.

And in the silence of that broken room, I realized—

We were trapped.

And whoever was watching us?

They weren't finished yet.