Life In The Limelight : The Depressed Boy Has 4 Yandere Girlfriends-Chapter 32: You’re Broken Too

The next day, Holo entered Eleanor's room once more, bracing himself for what he knew would be another intense conversation. Eleanor sat in the corner of the room, her crystal green eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto him. There was no warmth in her gaze, only cold scrutiny.

"You came back," she said, her tone flat. "Good. We have a lot to discuss."

Holo nodded, taking his usual seat across from her. "What's on your mind?"

Eleanor tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "You seem so proud of the progress you've made with the other girls," she began, her voice quiet but cutting. "But do you ever stop to think about what you're actually doing to them?"

Holo frowned, caught off guard by her words. "What do you mean?"

She leaned forward, her piercing gaze never leaving his. "You think you're helping them, don't you? That you're saving them from themselves. But the truth is, all you've done is let them stew in their own mistakes."

Holo's chest tightened, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That's not true," he said, his voice defensive. "I've helped them move forward. They're better now than they were before."

"Are they?" Eleanor asked, her voice dripping with skepticism. "Let's take Trixie, for example. She's still murder-happy, isn't she? Still ready to lash out at anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way. You haven't stopped her from being violent. You've just redirected her aggression to anyone who threatens you."

Holo's jaw clenched, but he didn't interrupt her.

"Then there's Scarlet," Eleanor continued. "She's still a manipulator, twisting people's emotions and bending them to her will. The only difference now is that her focus is entirely on you. She doesn't care about anything or anyone else—just keeping you under her control."

Holo's hands tightened into fists, her words striking a nerve.

"And finally, Felicia," Eleanor said, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "You took a woman who was addicted to sexual pleasure and turned that addiction into an obsession with you. She doesn't just want you, Holo. She needs you. She's still the same broken person she was before—just redirected."

"That's not fair," Holo said, his voice rising slightly. "They've all come so far. They're better now than they were before."

"Are they?" Eleanor asked, her tone calm but unrelenting. "Or have you just made them dependent on you? Think about it, Holo. All you've done is shift their problems onto yourself. You haven't fixed anything—you've just made yourself their crutch."

Holo's heart raced as her words sank in. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, but a part of him couldn't deny the truth in what she was saying.

Eleanor leaned back, her green eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "Let me ask you something," she said. "How do you think your death would affect them?"

Holo froze, his breath catching in his throat.

"You've made yourself the center of their world," Eleanor continued, her voice low and measured. "If you died, what do you think would happen to them? Do you think they'd move on? Find a way to cope? Or do you think they'd spiral into chaos, consumed by their grief and desperation?"

Holo's chest tightened, and he shook his head. "That's not going to happen," he said firmly. "I'm not going to die."

"Maybe not," Eleanor said with a shrug. "But the point still stands. You've made them dependent on you, Holo. You've become their everything. And that kind of dependence? It's dangerous."

Holo stared at her, his mind racing. He wanted to deny her words, to insist that he had done the right thing, but doubt crept into his heart. Was she right? Had he really helped the girls, or had he just made things worse?

"You want to save people, Holo," Eleanor said, her voice softening slightly. "But saving someone doesn't mean making them rely on you. It means helping them find the strength to stand on their own."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Holo looked away, his fists clenching as he tried to process everything she had said.

"I'll come back tomorrow," he said finally, his voice quiet but resolute. "We're not done yet."

Eleanor tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "I look forward to it."

As Holo left her room, her words echoed in his mind, forcing him to confront the uncomfortable truths he had been avoiding. For the first time, he questioned whether he was truly helping the girls—or simply making them more broken.

The next day, Holo entered Eleanor's room with renewed determination. Her words from the previous day had shaken him, but he wasn't going to let her continue to push him around. This time, he was ready to confront her and take control of the conversation.

Eleanor was sitting in her usual spot, her crystal green eyes watching him intently as he approached. There was a faint smirk on her lips, as though she already knew he was coming in with something to prove.

"You're back," she said calmly, her voice tinged with amusement. "I'm guessing yesterday's conversation didn't sit well with you."

Holo sat down across from her, his gaze steady. "You're wrong about me, Eleanor," he said firmly. "I'm not a liar, and I'm not manipulating anyone. I'm here because I want to help."

Her smirk widened slightly. "Oh, really? And here I thought you were here because of the money."

Holo flinched, but he quickly recovered. "That's not true," he said, his voice firm. "I care about the girls. I've seen how much they've grown, and I've seen how much they've changed. I'm not just in this for the money."

Eleanor tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Is that so? Then tell me, Holo—why did you agree to this in the first place?"

Holo hesitated, the question hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I... I thought I could help them," he said finally, though his voice lacked the conviction he had hoped for.

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Eleanor let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "You're lying. You agreed to this because you were desperate, weren't you? You saw the money, and you thought it would solve all your problems. The girls were just a means to an end."

"That's not true," Holo said quickly, his fists clenching. "I care about them. I've put everything into helping them."

"And yet, you didn't start caring until after you realized how much they adored you," Eleanor said, her tone sharp. "You were ready to play the hero because it made you feel important, didn't it? Because it gave you purpose."

Holo's chest tightened, and he shook his head. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Eleanor leaned forward, her piercing green eyes locking onto his. "I hear everything, Holo. Every conversation you've had with them. Every promise, every lie. You told Trixie she was safe with you. You told Scarlet you understood her pain. You told Felicia you loved her. But it was all for the same reason—to keep them hooked on you."

"That's not true," Holo said, his voice trembling. "I meant everything I said to them."

"Did you?" Eleanor asked, her tone mocking. "Or were you just saying what they needed to hear to keep them under control? To keep the money flowing?"

Holo slammed his hands on the table, his frustration boiling over. "I care about them!" he shouted. "I'm not doing this for the money. I'm doing it because I want to help them."

Eleanor didn't flinch at his outburst. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, her smirk fading into a cold, unreadable expression. "Maybe you believe that now," she said quietly. "But you didn't start out that way, did you?"

Holo froze, her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. He thought back to the beginning, to the deal Graves had offered him. It was true—he had agreed to it because of the money. He had been desperate, alone, and lost. The idea of helping these girls had been secondary, almost an afterthought.

But things had changed. He had changed. Hadn't he?

"You don't understand," Holo said softly, his voice trembling. "I've grown to care about them. They mean everything to me now."

Eleanor's green eyes softened, but only slightly. "Then prove it," she said. "Show me that you're not the fraud I think you are. Show me that you care about them more than you care about yourself."

Holo clenched his fists, his heart pounding. He didn't know how to respond. Eleanor's words had shaken him to his core, forcing him to confront truths he had tried to bury. But one thing was certain—he couldn't back down now.

"I will," he said finally, his voice steady. "I'll prove you wrong."

Eleanor's smirk returned, faint but noticeable. "We'll see, Holo. We'll see."