From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 612: The Guest List (part seven/Archie)

A flicker of unnatural obsession flashed through Archie’s eyes.

He told himself it was all Micah’s fault.

Micah had given him the green light. Subtle ones, maybe, but unmistakable. Micah cared about Russell...everyone knew that. But Archie hadn’t missed the way Micah tolerated him too. The way he asked questions about the team. The way his eyes brightened when Archie talked about games. The way he cared about him enough to follow him to the restroom, asking what was wrong...

And then there was SugerPlumFairy. A new ID that Russell swore belonged to Micah’s cousin. Wanted to play with him, the captain. But Archie noticed something at the last match, albeit too late.

The moment Archie realised that the account belonged to Micah, his entire world tilted.

The playstyle was unmistakable. The timing. The patience. The way support skills were used was not just to protect, but to anticipate. Archie had played with that account in a ranked match once, heart pounding, excitement buzzing through him.

Micah had wanted to get close to him. Secretly. Carefully. Archie’s chest tightened painfully at the memory. He had been stupid.

He had brushed it off. Ignored it. Assumed it was a frenzied girl chasing after him. Too late...Spilled milk.

He had lost this godsend chance by ignoring him. Such a moron. He couldn’t mend it, no matter how much he tried.

The account had gone dead weeks ago. No logins. No messages. Nothing.

Archie suspected Micah had been hurt. Deeply. Hurt enough to disappear. Archie imagined Micah had sulked when he had dismissed him. A soft smile appeared on his face.

Russell had later told him everything...Micah’s family, his background, his position. Archie had listened in silence, each word pressing heavier than the last.

He wanted to meet Micah here. He really did.

But he was ashamed.

Ashamed of his clothes.

Ashamed of his posture.

Ashamed of how obviously he didn’t belong.

He couldn’t fake elegance. He couldn’t fake ease.

So he hid.

His eyes lifted again, scanning the lobby carefully, methodically. He memorised faces, movements, silhouettes.

No Micah.

His heartbeat stuttered...relief and disappointment tangling together.

Then his gaze caught on someone familiar. Emile.

Archie’s eyes narrowed slightly. Emile stood near a low table, posture relaxed, one hand tucked casually into his pocket. He looked perfectly at home, talking with two others Archie didn’t recognise. That made sense. Emile was Micah’s roommate. Known as the cute prince. Of course, he belonged here.

Archie’s grip on the glass tightened.

And then.... His breath caught. Darcy.

The moment Archie saw him, something dark surged up from his gut, fast and violent. His lips pressed together as his nails dug into the glass stem.

Why was he here?

Darcy stood out immediately, dressed head to toe in luxury like he had every right to be. The suit fit him too well. The watch on his wrist gleamed softly under the lights.

Beside him stood a woman.

Archie’s gaze snapped to her, sharp and suspicious. She carried herself with quiet authority, her presence subtle but heavy. People noticed her without realising why.

Influential. Archie’s mind raced.

Why was Darcy with her? Who was she to him? Why did he look so comfortable?

Anger twisted tighter in Archie’s chest.

How could Darcy be here when he didn’t deserve it? How could someone like Darcy stand among people like this so easily?

Did Darcy know her? Was she supporting him? Backing him? Raising him into this world? 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Where was Micah? Why wasn’t he with Darcy? Weren’t they practically joined at the hip? Always together?

The thought made Archie’s vision blur slightly.

Questions stacked on top of one another until they pressed down on him, suffocating.

Darkness crept into his thoughts.

His hatred toward Darcy went far beyond dislike. It was raw, obsessive, burning. Darcy didn’t just exist...he contaminated. He took up space that didn’t belong to him.

Worst of all, Darcy was always near Micah.

Too near.

Archie’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. If he could, he would erase Darcy completely. Wipe him from Micah’s world. From every room, Micah stepped into.

He watched as Darcy strode forward, speaking sharply to the host. Even from a distance, Archie could see the rudeness in his gestures, the impatience in the flick of his hand.

Then Darcy grabbed the woman’s wrist, not roughly, but possessively, and led her toward Emile’s group.

His foot twitched, instinct screaming at him to step forward, to block Darcy’s path, to demand answers.

Where is Micah? What are you doing here? Why are you always in his way?

But he didn’t move.

Because Darcy didn’t stay.

Just as quickly as he arrived, Darcy turned and left, leaving the woman behind. He disappeared into a side hallway, swallowed by the shadows beyond the lobby.

Archie blinked, stunned.

For half a second, he stood frozen. Then his body moved on its own.

He stepped forward, wineglass forgotten, weaving through the edge of the crowd. His eyes locked onto the hallway Darcy had vanished into. He followed.

His steps were quick but careful. He slipped past a pair of closed doors, turned a corner...And lost him.

The hallway stretched empty and quiet, carpet swallowing sound. No Darcy. Nothing but silence.

Archie stopped, chest heaving slightly.

He stood there for several seconds, staring down the corridor.

Nothing. Slowly, his shoulders slumped.

He turned back, each step heavier than the last, returning to the lobby when a young man suddenly crashed into his path. Archie was not in the mood to act gently. He bypassed him without even exchanging a word.

The inside felt louder, brighter, more suffocating than before.

He couldn’t even contact Micah. He had tried. God, he had tried. Micah’s phone had been turned off for two weeks straight. When it came back on, Archie’s messages vanished into silence, buried under countless others. Unread. Unanswered.

Archie was afraid to call. What if Micah rejected him outright? Hung up? Spoke coldly? Threw sharp words at him?

He couldn’t take that. He needed Micah to see him. To acknowledge him. In public, where Micah couldn’t pretend Archie wasn’t there.

That was the only way. Archie knew it in his bones.

He stopped near the entrance, setting the untouched wineglass down on a passing tray. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

He lifted his head and stared at the doors, eyes burning holes into them.

His lips moved, barely making a sound.

"Please... Micah..."

The name trembled like a prayer.

Archie stood there, waiting, shadows clinging to his back, obsession tightening around his heart like a vice.