From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 188: Cup After Cup

15 minutes earlier:

As soon as Darcy stepped out of the room to answer his call, Micah slowly slouched back into his seat, pulling out his phone. The soft glow of the screen lit up his face in the dim room, but there was... nothing.

No messages. No missed calls. No "Where are you?". Not even a stupid emoji.

His thumb hovered over the screen. He refreshed the page again, just to be sure. Still nothing. Blank. As if Clyde didn’t exist.

Like everything that had happened today had just been in Micah’s head.

Micah’s chest ached. His throat felt tight. So that was it? One argument and Clyde disappeared like smoke?

In Clyde’s eyes, was he less than that woman? Just toss out a cheap ’sorry’ and be done with it? He gave Clyde a tiny bit of attitude, and Clyde vanished like Micah was nothing but a spoiled kid throwing a tantrum?

His chest burned. He was not in the wrong. He had every right to be angry. But now, it felt like his anger didn’t matter to Clyde. Like he didn’t matter.

Beside him, Nick and Eddie were still chatting nonstop. Something about the hot waitress. Or maybe it was food. Micah didn’t care. Their voices turned into static, buzzing in his ears, irritating him. He couldn’t take it anymore.

His eyes flickered to the bottles sitting on the table. Some were untouched, some half empty. Without saying a word, he reached out, keeping his movement smooth and casual. His fingers curled around a nearby alcoholic bottle. He poured a splash into his own glass. The liquid mixed with his juice easily, and no one noticed.

Of course, this wasn’t his first drink. He had tasted plenty before, parties with Evan, Julian, and those so-called friends. They drank for fun, for image, to laugh, and to get stupid. Like that time he had knocked his head on the edge of the table and ended up embarrassing himself with a trip to the hospital. The time he dreamed about the novel. That this world was just a book.

After that Micah had never let himself go past his limit ever again. That humiliation was just too much.

But tonight. Tonight, he didn’t want to stay aware. He didn’t want to think about Clyde. Or those words. Or that silence.

The man had turned into a cancer, invading all cells of his mind and body.

He wanted a break.

So he drank.

He slipped in another pour when Eddie stood to flirt with the waitress. Another one when Nick left to use the toilet. No one noticed. Micah kept his face calm, even as the warmth started rising up his neck. Even as the edge of his thoughts began to blur and his chest began to feel lighter like he could finally breathe.

Cup after cup. The burning in his chest softened. His heartbeat slowed. His brain turned quiet. It felt numb.

And then the door opened. Darcy walked in. Micah looked up. His eyes lit up instantly. His mouth curled into a crooked grin. His favourite person was here. His little brother.

*****

Back to the present:

Darcy pulled Micah out of the room with a firm grip, his steps fast and tight with frustration.

Micah stumbled beside him, giggling as he wrapped his arms around Darcy’s waist. "Whe-where are we go-going?" he slurred.

"Dorm," Darcy said through his teeth.

"No..." Micah pouted, dragging his feet. "I don’t want to..." His glasses had slid down his nose, and his face was flushed all the way to his ears. He looked up at Darcy, his eyes shimmered behind the glasses. "Let’s go to my apartment! We can drink more and play games and...." he leaned closer, breathing hot against Darcy’s cheek. "You can sleep over."

Darcy’s heart thudded against his ribs. He could smell the alcohol on Micah’s breath, sweet and sharp. It meant nothing. Micah was drunk. Just drunk.

He used all of his willpower and tore his eyes away from Micah.

"You’ve had enough," he said, gripping Micah’s waist a little tighter. "What if you start throwing up blood again? Or your stomach starts acting up?"

Micah wiggled in his arms, rubbing his face against Darcy’s shoulder like a sleepy cat. "Sooo comfy," he mumbled.

Darcy’s body tensed. "On second thought," he said darkly, "let’s go to the hospital. Get your stomach pumped. Maybe then you’ll finally learn your lesson."

"Nooo!" Micah whined. He tried to pull away. "You are just like that jerk! Always trying to take me to the hospital."

A muscle in Darcy’s forehead twitched. His hold on Micah tightened. What was Micah talking about? Who had brought him to the hospital before? Emile? No, that time Micah was not in a position to argue with them. That was what he had heard.

"What jerk?" Darcy hissed.

Micah didn’t answer. His smile faded a little, his eyes turning hazy again. He just looked away, swaying slightly.

"Who?" he pressed, voice cold.

But Micah only blinked at the floor, like he hadn’t heard him.

Darcy felt something boil inside him. A flash of something sharp and jealous. His whole body was on fire. From anger. He was mad at Micah. Throwing a word out and not explaining. Who was this jerk?! Darcy’s mind filled with that question.

Then Micah suddenly winced. "Wo..wo..." he let out a weak cry. "It hurts!"

Darcy jolted. He instantly loosened his hold on Micah. "Where?" he asked, panic flashing through his chest.

Micah just mumbled something and leaned his head into Darcy’s chest.

Darcy took a deep breath and pushed away the questions racing in his head. Now wasn’t the time.

Once they were outside, he hailed a taxi with one hand, the other still wrapped tightly around Micah. The taxi slowed and stopped. Darcy opened the door and carefully helped Micah into the seat, then slid in beside him.

He told the driver to go to a nearby clinic. His worry was growing by the minute. He was scared Micah’s stomach might act up again. And he blamed himself. He shouldn’t have left Micah alone. Those two were so unreliable. But why did Micah start drinking all of a sudden?

Darcy glanced down at Micah, who was leaning against him, cheeks flushed, lips curved in a goofy smile. He looked so soft, so unguarded like this. It was nothing like the usual sharp-tongued, smug-faced brat. He looked younger like this. More innocent.

And vulnerable.

He had never seen Micah acting this sweet and spoiled.

Darcy pressed his lips together. He didn’t want Nick and Eddie to see this side of Micah. He didn’t want anyone to see it. This version... he wanted to keep just for himself.

Darcy tightened his arm around him just a little more.

Micah hummed softly, eyes fluttering half shut as the taxi pulled away from the curb.

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