Chapter 15

                                    

                                          
Retire (final) - Alvedon
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Felix climbed the stairs to his room, each step dragging as though his legs were weighted. By the time he reached his door, his chest felt heavy, his breathing shallow. He collapsed onto his bed, gripping his pillow tightly.
He shut his eyes, but the tears came anyway, trickling down his face as flashes of his dad's voice played on repeat in his mind.
It was that one memory—the moment he wished he could rewrite—that haunted him the most.
It had been one of those perfect nights. The stars were impossibly bright, and the sky was clear. Felix had been at his window, his telescope angled toward the heavens as he tracked a rare comet. His excitement buzzed in his chest like electricity.
"Dad! Hurry up, it's almost here! You'll miss it!" Felix had shouted into his phone, pacing back and forth as his comet-tracking app ticked down the seconds.
His dad's familiar, steady voice came through the line, laughing softly. "Alright, alright, Felix. I'm on my way, but traffic's a mess right now. Just keep watching, okay? We'll see it together when I get there."
But Felix couldn't wait. He wanted his dad there, now. "You don't get it, Dad! It'll be gone in a few minutes. Just—please hurry!"
"I'm trying, buddy," his dad had replied, his tone tinged with guilt. "Just keep watching for me. You'll see it first, and then you can show me."
The comet had streaked across the sky, dazzling and fleeting. Felix watched it alone, the weight of disappointment in his chest, the sinking feeling that he should have done something differently. He didn't know then that it would be the last time he'd ever hear his dad's voice.
Felix opened his eyes, staring blankly at the telescope gathering dust in the corner of his room. He hadn't touched it since the accident. A bitter laugh escaped his throat as he rubbed his temples.
It's your fault. 
You rushed him. 
He was trying for you, and you ruined everything.
The guilt was unbearable, a tidal wave threatening to drag him under. He sat up, his movements robotic, and stumbled toward his desk. Pulling open the drawer, his fingers hovered over the small, cold blade hidden inside. It was a familiar weight, one he wished he didn't need but couldn't let go of.
Before he knew it, he was sitting on the cold bathroom floor, his back pressed against the door. His trembling hands pulled off the wristbands he always wore, revealing faded scars crisscrossing his skin—evidence of the nights he couldn't win the battle against his own thoughts.
He stared at his wrist, his voice barely a whisper. "Just one," he told himself. "Just one, and it'll stop."
The first cut was careful, slow, a sharp sting that grounded him for a moment. Then came the second, then the third. By the fifth, his movements were rushed, desperate. The crimson drops fell freely now, staining the white tiles beneath him. Tears blurred his vision as he pressed the blade harder, punishing himself for every mistake he thought he'd ever made.
The memories clawed their way to the surface.
He'd always been hard on himself, even as a kid.
His mom would kneel in front of him after he brought home a test he thought he'd failed. "Felix, it's just one grade," she'd say softly, holding his trembling hands. "One bad test doesn't mean you're failing at everything. You're allowed to make mistakes."
But Felix didn't believe her. He never did.
Even in elementary school, he'd cry if his art project didn't look as good as someone else's or if he stumbled over a word during a class presentation. His dad would sit with him, gently ruffling his hair. "You're doing great, buddy. Don't be so hard on yourself."
But Felix couldn't stop. No matter how many times they reassured him, the voice in his head always told him otherwise. You're not good enough. You'll never be good enough.
The first time he'd picked up a blade was in grade 9, after a particularly bad week. He'd flunked a quiz, gotten into an argument with Changbin, and forgotten a homework assignment. His teacher had scolded him in front of the class. By the time he got home, the voice in his head was deafening.
He didn't know what he was doing the first time he dragged the edge of his pencil sharpener blade across his arm, but the sting had silenced the noise, if only for a moment.
Now, years later, that same noise was louder than ever.
The blade slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the floor. His chest heaved as he pressed a washcloth against his wrist, trying to stop the bleeding. He squirmed on the floor, the pain overwhelming, until he crawled toward the sink. The cold water stung as he rinsed his cuts, biting back a hiss of pain. His reflection in the mirror looked hollow, his eyes dull and lifeless, tear marks streaked across his cheeks.
The bloodstains on the floor made his stomach churn. He grabbed paper towels, crouching down to clean the crimson droplets. Each stain felt like a mark of failure, another reminder of his inability to cope. Once the floor was spotless, he bent to pick up the blade, his fingers trembling as went back into his room and he placed it back in its drawer.
His movements were sluggish as he shuffled to his dresser, pulling out a long-sleeved shirt. He slipped it on carefully, wincing as the fabric brushed against his fresh cuts.
Felix turned off the lamp and crawled into bed, pulling the covers tightly around him. But sleep didn't come. He tossed and turned, his mind racing, guilt gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.
You broke down in front of Mom.
You relapsed again.
You're a failure.
The cutting hadn't relieved any stress this time. It hadn't brought the numbness he'd been craving. It was punishment, plain and simple—punishment for not being good enough, for not saving his dad, for breaking down when he should've stayed strong.
Felix curled into himself, his tears soaking the pillow as he whispered to the dark, "Why can't I just be okay?"
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a/n: 1K VIEWS??? OMG THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!! 
ps: when I say sweatbands or wristbands I mean these:
 

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
I imagine these as black but imagine the colour however you want it!