"This Chapter is told from a third person’s pov ..so please don’t be confuse ...this book is a dual first person and third person prospective book . I will do my best to indicate whose pov we are telling each Chapter from."

Malcolm Stein locked the front door of the gym with the kind of routine that came from doing the same thing every night for years.

Lights off. Equipment checked. Cash drawer balanced. Gloves stacked where they belonged.

The place smelled like sweat, leather and effort. Familiar. Steady. Earned. He stood there for a second after turning the key, listening to the quiet settle in.

His phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

Felix

A small smile pulled at his mouth as he answered. "Hey Felix. What’s up?"

"Hey big bro." His younger brother’s voice came through, casual but just a little too measured. "So the thing is I’ll be home for a week. Thought I might crash at your place for a bit."

Malcolm frowned slightly as he started toward his car. "That so? Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Felix said quickly. "Everything’s peachy."

Malcolm paused at the word.

Peachy.

He leaned against the car door, eyes narrowing just a fraction.

Felix only said that when something was off. He had known his brother long enough to know the difference between fine and peachy. They were not the same thing.

"Alright," Malcolm said after a moment, pushing the thought aside. "Come through. You know you don’t have to ask."

"Yeah. I know. Thanks man."

They hung up.

Malcolm stood there for a second longer before getting into the car.

Peachy, he thought.

Yeah. Sure.

Felix arrived two days later with a small bag slung over his shoulder and that same easy smile he had carried since he was a kid.

Malcolm opened the door before he could knock.

"Took you long enough."

Felix grinned. "Traffic."

"You don’t even drive."

"Details."

Malcolm stepped aside. "Come in."

The apartment was simple. Clean. Everything in its place. Felix dropped his bag near the couch and looked around the way he always did, like something might have changed since the last time he was there.

"Smells the same," he said.

"Food," Malcolm replied. "That’s usually what that means."

Felix laughed and followed him into the kitchen.

Dinner was easy. Something quick Malcolm threw together without thinking too much about it. They ate at the small table by the window.

"How’s school?" Malcolm asked.

"All good," Felix said, already halfway through his plate.

Malcolm watched him for a moment. "You sure?"

Felix didn’t look up. "Yeah. Why?"

"You look like you’ve got a lot on your mind."

"I said I’m fine."

Malcolm let it go. For now.

"What about that girl you mentioned last time?" he asked instead. "What was her name again. Hil- Hilda?"

Felix finally looked up, a faint smile breaking through. "Himari."

"Right. Himari." Malcolm leaned back slightly. "How’s that going?"

Felix’s expression shifted in a way that didn’t need explanation.

"Good," he said. "She’s amazing actually."

Malcolm didn’t interrupt.

"She’s smart," Felix continued. "Like really smart. Quiet too. Keeps to herself mostly. A bit clumsy sometimes but..." He shrugged, smiling to himself. "Yeah. She’s different."

Malcolm nodded slowly.

He had seen that look before. The way a person’s whole face reorganized itself around someone else without them realizing it.

"Sounds like you like her," he said.

Felix didn’t deny it. "Yeah."

They let that sit for a second.

Felix pointed his fork at him. "What about you? You and Rhonda still good?"

Malcolm huffed lightly. "She’s good."

"That’s it?"

He hesitated then shrugged. "I’ve been thinking about popping the question."

Felix’s eyes lit up immediately. "Wait. Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"That’s—" He laughed, shaking his head. "That’s big man. That’s really big."

Malcolm smiled despite himself. "Yeah. I guess it is."

"You’re actually doing it," Felix said, still grinning. "I can’t believe you’re actually doing it."

"Relax. I haven’t done anything yet."

"Still counts."

They talked a little longer after that. About the gym. About school. About nothing important and everything at the same time.

Later they did the dishes together without needing to say anything about it. Felix headed to the guest room not long after, claiming he was tired from the trip.

Malcolm stayed up.

Paperwork spread across the table. Membership renewals. Equipment invoices. Insurance forms. The kind of things nobody saw when they thought about a gym but the kind that kept it running. He signed the last page and stretched, glancing toward the hallway.

That was when he heard it.

Felix’s voice.

Sharp. Frustrated.

"I told you—"

Malcolm went still.

He couldn’t make out everything. The walls were too thick and the door was closed. But one name cut through clearly.

Ethan.

Malcolm frowned.

A pause.

Then silence.

He waited a moment longer then shook his head and stood up.

Not his business.

He turned off the light and went to bed.

The next morning the gym was already alive by the time Malcolm stepped into the ring.

"Keep your guard up," he said, circling his trainee. "You drop your left like that again you’re getting tagged every time."

The trainee nodded, breathing hard.

"Again."

They moved. Gloves snapping. Feet shifting across the canvas.

"Don’t chase the punch," Malcolm continued. "Read it. Make him commit then you answer."

"Like this?" the trainee asked, throwing a quick combination.

"Better," Malcolm said. "But you’re still telegraphing. Relax your shoulders."

"Hey bro."

Malcolm glanced toward the ropes.

Felix stood there, hands in his pockets.

He raised a hand. "Hold up. Take five."

The trainee nodded gratefully and slipped through the ropes.

Malcolm ducked under and walked over. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

Felix shifted slightly. "I need to head back to school."

Malcolm frowned. "Already? You just got here yesterday. You said you’d be staying a week."

"I know," Felix said quickly. "Something came up. I gotta sort it out."

"What kind of something?"

"It’s nothing serious," Felix replied. "I just need to handle it."

Malcolm studied him for a second then exhaled. "Alright. As long as everything’s okay."

"It is."

"Take care of yourself," Malcolm said.

"Always do."

"Hold on."

He walked over to the bench near the wall and grabbed his wallet from the back pocket of his pants. Three clean hundred dollar bills. He held them out.

"Take this."

Felix hesitated. "I’m good."

"Take it," Malcolm repeated. "Just in case."

Felix looked at the money then back at him and finally took it.

"Thanks."

"Call me if you need more."

"I will."

Felix stepped forward and pulled him into a quick hug.

Then he was gone.

Two weeks passed.

No call.

Every time Malcolm tried, the line came back busy. He told himself Felix was caught up with school. Exams. Assignments. Something that made sense.

It made sense.

Until it didn’t.

A week later his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Malcolm?" His mother’s voice carried a quiet tension that put him on edge immediately. "Have you heard from Felix?"

He frowned. "Not in a bit. Why?"

"I haven’t heard from him in three weeks," she said. "He hasn’t called. He hasn’t answered. I’m starting to get worried."

Malcolm straightened. "Three weeks?"

"Yes."

He ran a hand over his jaw. "Alright. Don’t worry. I’ll go to his school tomorrow and check on him."

"You will?"

"Yeah. I’ll find out what’s going on."

A small breath of relief came through the line. "Thank you."

"I’ve got it," he said. "I’ll call you when I know something."

They hung up.

Malcolm stared at the phone for a moment.

Then grabbed his keys.

Maxford State College was bigger than he expected.

Students moved in clusters across the lawns, conversations overlapping, laughter cutting through the air like everything in the world was exactly as it should be. Malcolm walked through it feeling exactly like what he was. Someone who didn’t belong there but had no time to care about that.

He spotted a student sitting on the grass near the main path, headphones hanging around his neck, laptop open.

"Hey," Malcolm said. "You know where the dean’s office is?"

The student looked up. "South wing of the main building. Follow that path, take a left when you hit the main doors. There’s a sign. Can’t miss it."

"Got it. Thanks."

He followed the directions into the main building where the noise dropped into something quieter and more controlled. The south wing was clearly marked. At the end of the corridor a door with a polished plaque read:

OFFICE OF THE DEAN

DEAN ANITA PETROVA

MAXFORD STATE COLLEGE — SOUTH ADMINISTRATIVE WING

He knocked once then stepped inside.

A woman looked up from behind the desk. Composed. Professional. The kind of steady that came from years of handling situations before they became problems.

"Good day," he said. "Are you Dean Petrova?"

"I am," she replied. "How can I help you?"

"My name is Malcolm Stein. I’m here looking for my brother. Felix Stein."

She turned to her computer and typed quickly.

A moment passed.

Then she looked back at him.

"Felix Stein is currently on medical leave."

Malcolm blinked. "Medical leave?"

"Yes. He filed for a temporary leave of absence due to health reasons approximately two weeks ago."

"He never told me he was sick," Malcolm said. "He never told our mother either."

"I’m afraid I can only share what’s on record," she said.

"Do you know where he is?"

She shook her head. "For further information you may want to speak with his roommate. He would likely know more."

"Can you give me the details?"

She hesitated briefly then wrote something down on a slip of paper and slid it across the desk.

"Dormitory C. Room 214."

Malcolm took it. "Thank you."

He found the dorm without much trouble.

Third floor. Room 214.

He knocked.

Footsteps from inside.

The door opened.

A young man stood in the frame. Dark hair. Slightly tousled. Hazel eyes that took him in with the quiet attentiveness of someone naturally observant.

Malcolm looked at him.

Then at the slip of paper in his hand.

"Ethan Cruxs?" he said.