Knees drawn together, Julian's head rests on the cold wall. He fixates on the white ceiling, tracing invisible patterns, his body numb and laden.

It's been an hour. Or probably more.

Joaquin is still out on a date.

His messages had been comforting at first, reassuring him that it wouldn't be long. He'd entertain her for a bit just not to be rude, and he'd tell her politely that it wasn't going to work.

This had been the protocol for the past two dates and is supposed to be followed on this third date. And while Joaquin always did as he promised, it's getting harder and harder for Julian to brush off the growing unease.

How many more would there be?

Julian trusts Joaquin. He's been transparent, sharing every detail—who she is and what they've talked about. And when he looks Julian in the eye and says that he's the only one in his mind the whole time, he knows he's being honest.

But honesty doesn't make it hurt any less. Waiting around and being unable to do anything is chipping away at his patience.

Why'd he even agree to this? Why did he say he could handle it?

When Joaquin first mentioned it, it seemed like a harmless favor to his father, especially since Julian wasn't one to get jealous. He'd already learned to accept his place in other people's lives; he wasn't the type to let the green-eyed monster consume him.

But it makes sense now. He didn't get jealous because they weren't his. They didn't hold his hand, kiss him, or welcome him in their arms.

And he didn't feel this way about them. Not even close.

The sharp ringing in his phone startles Julian from his daze, his heart leaping to his throat. With trembling fingers, he snatches it and lets out a weak, "H-Hello?"

"Julian," Joaquin mutters softly. "Sorry. It took longer than I thought it would be."

The automatic it's okay could not come out. Not right now. "Where are you?"

"I'm almost home."

"Almost..." he repeats flatly.

"Yeah," Joaquin exhales. "Sorry."

Julian closes his eyes, collecting himself. He has a presentation tomorrow. He can't be distraught and let this unravel him.

"It's okay. At least it's done."

A beat stretches between them.

Joaquin drives into their garage and turns off the engine, the space enveloped with stillness. He unbuckles his seatbelt in the hopes of freeing himself from an imperceptible bind that's smothering him. Make him feel less guilty. But it doesn't work.

"Joaquin?"

"I... I need to see her again," he confesses, his voice scratchy. "I didn't expect our parents to show up tonight. I couldn't break it off."

"Ah."

"I'll end it," Joaquin insists with a note of desperation. "I swear I will."

"A second date, huh?" Julian whispers, his voice clipped. "That's never happened before."

"Nothing's changed. This isn't going anywhere. I promise. Please, you have to trust me."

Of course, he trusts him. But is that the only thing that counts?

Julian feels horrible for feeling this way, anxious and down, and for the way his thoughts go out of control. He's sworn to himself that he'd accommodate Joaquin, give him grace to figure things out, knowing his experience is harder. Yet, he also feels like he's damaging himself just to keep the peace. How many more pieces of him can he offer before he's left hollow?

"Yes," Julian says, forcing a lightness that doesn't feel quite real. "I do."

******

And so Friday crawls in, carrying with it the same weight of another scheduled date.

Julian lingers under the pouring water too long until his skin wrinkles, reminding him of the days he'd spent soaked in the sea. He misses it. Badly. The salt, the waves, the freedom. He should ask his parents to visit after this term. Maybe Joaquin could come along... Or not.

He turns the tap off, silencing the water, but not his mind. As he steps out of the cubicle fully dressed, he catches sight of himself in the mirror. His fatigued and sleepless reflection is like a stranger staring back at him.

Would this be how it is? Every month or so, he'd have to endure a period of anxiety? Get used to this dread?

Back in his room, Julian plops down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling once more. The waiting game begins.

His phone receives a ping. It's his senior, Myka. He sighs and ignores it, but she sends another text asking if she could call. Hesitant, he sends a thumb's up.

"Hey," Myka's voice filters through the phone.

"Hey."

"You alright? You sound odd."

Julian's lips part, the words trapped in his tongue. He hasn't opened up to anyone about anything, not even his mother. It's more isolating than he'd anticipated. No one validates the knot in his chest; no one reminds him that he's not a bad person for feeling hurt, and somehow, betrayed.

The worst part is, he can't even stay mad for too long. At Joaquin? At his father?

He just can't. He can't fault Joaquin for holding back. He can't fault his father for not forcefully fishing information out of his son.

Yet, it goddamn hurts to be sidelined. Julian's the one who should be with Joaquin tonight. Not someone else. Not some random girl.

"I'm fine. What's up?"

"I'm hungry and bored. How about we grab dinner somewhere?"

Julian leans back, gazing out the window to watch the fading sunlight on the horizon. "Dunno."

"You don't sound like yourself. You sick or something?"

He wishes could blame it on an illness. Have it be the excuse for the pain he's going through.

"I'm alright. Just feeling, uh, kinda lethargic today."

"I'll swing by and pick you up. Come on. The night is young."

Julian reconsiders. Being out with Myka might be a better distraction instead of sulking in his room, waiting for Joaquin's updates. It could get his mind off things.

"Okay, let's do it."

******

Fingers rhythmically drumming against the edge of the table, Joaquin silently watches the woman across him peruse the menu. Two years his senior, the only daughter of the Treasury Board director, and a graduate from an Ivy League university—his father has certainly outdone himself with this meticulous selection.

"Have you decided?" she asks without looking up.

"I'll just have a drink," he replies, raising his glass of whisky. A glance at his watch shows it's 6 in the evening. If he played his cards right, he could end this by 6:30, then he could pick up Julian. Make it up to him. Figure out how to escape these blind dates his father insists on arranging. He's getting more relentless recently like he wants to marry him off ASAP.

"Don't be so obvious," Katie remarks as the waitress walks away with her order.

"Obvious about what?"

"You're always looking at your phone. You barely look at me. You're giving me one-word replies," she points out, resting her chin on a propped fist. "Are you seeing someone else?"

Joaquin takes a slow sip from his glass, letting the whisky burn down his throat.

"Why don't you just tell your Dad? Save everyone the hassle."

"Why don't you?" he counters dryly.

Katie grins. "I was interested in you. I've heard the other girls. Remember Cindy and Sarah?"

Joaquin struggles to attach faces to names, his mouth twitching in mild recognition.

"I wanted to see you for myself. The guy who keeps getting set up."

"And?"

"I think they were wrong. They mistakenly pegged you as emotionally unavailable. I mean, you are, but for other reasons," she pauses. "You're taken. And it's someone your father can't know about."

Joaquin sucks his teeth. "That's..."

"Relax, I understand," Katie injects gently as the server places her plate down. She thanks her, unfolding the napkin on her lap. "I've been there."

Joaquin leans back, unsure whether to feel comforted or afraid of this woman who's figured him out easily.

Katie dabs her lips with the napkin and drinks from her frozen margarita. "Your secret's safe with me, but others might not be so kind."

Joaquin arches his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It only takes one small rumor. Just one. And it can spread like wildfire."

Teeth gritted, Joaquin questions, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because there are seeds already. Our circle isn't that big, Joaquin. We try to keep the wealth amongst ourselves, and soon, your Dad would've scoured all possible families, but you're still not committed to a girl." With a sympathetic smile, she adds, "People will start asking why, and they will connect the dots."

Panic surges within Joaquin. His breathing turns rapid, compelling him to try and keep up. His fingers fumble to his collar, unfastening two buttons.

"Do you need my help?" Katie mutters.

His gaze snaps at her, bewildered. "Why? Why would you help me?"

"I just said it, right?" Katie finishes her drink. "I've been there."

******

Julian and Myka step out of the diner, the buffet leaving them both satisfied and sluggish.

"Wow, that hit the spot," Myka says, patting her stomach. "We better wash it down with some drinks. What do you say?"

Julian peeks at his phone reflexively. At 7:15, there's still no word from Joaquin. A lump stubbornly builds up on the back of his throat, the discomfort clawing its way to his countenance. This is just like when he had tonsillitis last year. If only this ache were as easy to soothe with cheap lozenges.

"Julian?"

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Come on."

They head toward the parkade, and Myka excitedly chats about the term and the upcoming club activities. Julian nods along, briefly distracted. He and Evan are applying to a cultural exchange in Vietnam. Since Myka had done it previously, she has a lot of tips.

"I reviewed your CV. You're quite the clever student, too, huh?"

Julian smiles, the first sincere one in a long while. "I'm a people pleaser. It includes me wanting to please teachers, too."

Myka giggles. "Fair enough. But you're pretty good with interviews. You should be fine."

"Thank you. I'm good with talking in general."

"Agreed."

Then, the urge to confide crashes down. He wants to talk. Tell her everything.

But he holds his tongue. They swore.

Myka turns right, easing into the flow of traffic. "Wow. I should've known it would be busy on a Friday night." She glances at Julian. "You sure you're okay to stay out late?"

"Yeah, no problem. I have nothing going on..."

"Cool." Stopping at a red light, Myka taps her fingers on the steering wheel. She hums to a song, her voice trailing off as she suddenly pauses, her head jerking to her side. "Wait a sec."

Julian tilts his head, following Myka's line of sight out the window. "What is it?"

"Isn't that Joaquin?"

There stands Joaquin, standing on the sidewalk near a restaurant, his hand loosely holding that of a tall, slender woman.

"Who is that?" Myka asks, tone rising. "Is Joaquin dating again?"

Julian says nothing as the woman steps closer, hugging Joaquin. A move too intimate for Julian's liking, and a pang pierces Julian's chest, his heart dropping and shattering into fragments. He should turn his head and shut his eyes. Anything to stop this pain.

"Shit," Myka curses as honks explode from behind them. "My bad! I was distracted!" She shifts gears and accelerates, and in an instant, the pair vanish from view.

Julian glances out the window, his fingers quavering as he fidgets with the seatbelt.

It hurts so much, and crying isn't even an option. Not with Myka here.

"Ate Myka."

"Yeah?"

"I hate to ask, but I'm actually not feeling well. Could you drop me off at the dorm?"

******

A/N: Please believe me when I say causing Julian so much pain breaks my heart, too... Y'all are thinking a Team Julian vs Team Joaquin. Lol. But there's really only a TEAM TOGETHER. But life is hard, and we're all products of our environment.

Hope everyone's having a lovely time preparing for the holidays! xx