Dylan rushed out to the main road and flagged down a taxi. If he had anywhere else to go, he wouldn't have returned to the dorm. He didn't want to see Jun.

"Huh? P'Dylan, where are you going?"

The others in the van were still confused when Jun climbed in. He looked around and asked:

"Where's Dylan?"

"He just took a cab and left."

Jun sighed, saying nothing more. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, but Dylan's disappointed gaze and teary eyes kept flashing in his mind. Strangely, it hurt more than he expected.

The three others exchanged glances, completely clueless as to what had happened—but it was clear this time, something serious went down.

Back at the dorm, Jun stood in front of Dylan's room. He raised his hand, hesitated, then let it drop. After standing there for a while, he still couldn't bring himself to knock.

Inside, Dylan sat curled up on the chair, hugging his knees like trying to hold himself together. His chest ached so much it felt hard to breathe. He tried so hard not to cry—he didn't want to be that pathetic.

That night felt endless.

⸻

The next morning, both Dylan and Jun showed up looking like hell. The air around them was icy cold, and the other three didn't dare crack a joke or even speak much. The silence lasted all the way to practice, only lifting slightly when the instructor arrived.

Jun and Dylan didn't exchange a word the entire day—or rather, Jun tried, but Dylan completely ignored him.

Nano watched quietly and later reported back to Thame and Pepper.

"What's going on with those two?" Thame asked.

"Beats me," Pepper shrugged.

"Same," Nano added.

The three of them sighed. They thought things had gotten better lately between Dylan and Jun, but it seems like they were back to square one.

Jun wanted to fix things, but every time he tried to approach Dylan, the latter either walked away or put on headphones, shutting the world out.

Eventually, Jun snapped. He dragged Dylan into the locker room.

"What do you want, dragging me in here?" Dylan frowned.

"Dylan, just talk to me for a second."

"I'm busy, make it quick."

"I wanted to explain about last night. P'Po slipped and fell, so I helped him up. That's all. There's nothing going on between us. Please don't be mad anymore, okay?" Jun spoke gently.

"Mad? I'm not mad," Dylan smiled faintly and looked up at him. "If anything, you should be the one who's mad."

"What?"

"I crossed a line. I meddled in your business. I'm sorry," Dylan said calmly, but no one could see how much he was hurting inside.

Whether Jun was telling the truth or not no longer mattered. Dylan had foolishly let himself hope because of a few kind gestures—but he forgot, Jun was always like that with everyone. If he kept falling deeper, it would only end in heartbreak.

Jun stood there, speechless. He didn't understand how it had come to this. But when Dylan said he wouldn't interfere with his life anymore, Jun felt like... he'd just lost something important.

⸻

"Dylan, here." Jun handed him a bottle of water after practice.

Dylan took it without even glancing his way. "Thanks," he said flatly.

Thanks? That word felt so distant, so wrong. Since that night, they only exchanged a few words at most before Dylan shut things down. On the surface, they still interacted like teammates, but it was colder than ever—colder than strangers, even.

Jun grew more and more frustrated, not knowing what to do. The more he reached out, the farther Dylan pulled away. And now, they were stuck in a loop—one with no way out.