I turn, startled, and relief crashes over me like a wave.
Remi.
I fall into him, trembling. He wraps me in his arms, solid and warm. No questions. No pressure. Just presence.
He shields me from the chaos, steering us gently away from the noise and the crowd.
When we finally stop, he cups my shoulders and lifts my chin with both hands.
“Seb, what happened? You disappeared. I couldn’t find you, I was so worried.”
“I… I didn’t mean to…”
“I asked everyone to help look for you. But I couldn’t explain why, I know it’s private. They probably think I’ve lost it, but I don’t care.”
He scans my face, eyes dark with concern.
“You’re ghost-white.”
“I feel dizzy,” I whisper. “Will you take me to the bathroom?”
He doesn’t hesitate. Just takes my hand and leads me.
Thankfully, he knows the layout. I barely make it through the bathroom door before I’m on my knees in one of the stalls, emptying everything I drank.
And even then, Remi doesn’t let go. He stays right there, crouched beside me, one hand on my back, the other steady on my shoulder. Grounding me. Holding me together.
REMI
Thank God I found Sebastian.
I knew something was wrong. The need to protect him is so strong it feels almost primal, like it’s sharpened my instincts.
The moment I spotted him swaying under the strobe lights, that fragile back visible through the mesh of his top, I pulled him into my arms and felt a wave of relief wash over me.
But one look at his pale face, those dazed, unfocused eyes, and I knew my worries hadn’t been for nothing.
Now I’m crouched in a cramped club bathroom, holding back his damp hair while he’s hunched over the toilet, emptying what feels like his entire soul.
I murmur soft words, nonsense, mostly, anything to anchor him.
And yet, beneath the worry, another part of me wants to shake some sense into him.
What the hell was he thinking going off with Ian and drinking like that? He, of all people, knows how easily he can spiral. What if I hadn’t found him?
I shove the thought aside. No point tormenting myself with what-ifs.
This kid is going to be the death of me.
He’s already turned my life inside out, and it’s only been a few weeks.
God help me if this keeps up through the whole summer.
At last, the retching subsides.
I glance around for paper towels, but of course, nothing.
So I pull the clean handkerchief from my pocket and hand it to him.
