Chapter 20

One more day passed. Austin thought that with time, things might return to normal, but the sudden change in Christin’s demeanour had thrown him completely off balance.

It was the day of Christin’s first stunt class. Austin had to leave early because of his schedule, but he also wanted to finish his work as quickly as possible. His acting was at it’s peak that day, and the director kept pushing for more scenes. By the time he finally returned to his room, exhaustion clung to him.

He glanced at the clock. There was still an hour before Christin would be done. Anxiety twisted in his chest. He texted Christin several times, but there was no response.

Did I do something?

Lost in thought, he ran a hand through his hair—and then it hit him.

Mariya.

He rushed to the bedside table, found her business card, and dialled the number.

“Hello, Mariya. This is Austin—Christin’s co-worker.”

“Hello, Austin. I didn’t expect to hear from you this soon,” she chuckled.

“Mariya,” he said urgently, “what did you and Christin talk about that night? He seems a little off…”

“Why? What happened?” she asked, immediately alert.

“I don’t know… he’s just… different,” Austin replied, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Please—just tell me what you talked about.”

Mariya hesitated. “He… he told me he was molested when he was fifteen,” she said quietly.

Austin was shocked, his mind turning blank,

Did something happen at the set? Is he hiding something…?

His words stuttered, “Anything else?” he asked.

Mariya paused. “That night… he—.”

Before she could answer, the door to his room slammed open and shut. Christin rushed inside, dropped his bag on the floor, and disappeared into the washroom, slamming the door behind him.

Austin ended the call.

He had seen it—Christin crying.

He hurried to the washroom and tried the door. Locked.

“Christin, what’s wrong?” he asked.

No response.

“Christin!” He knocked harder. “Please—open the door.”

“Leave me alone!” Christin wailed.

Austin stood frozen, hearing him cry on the other side, helpless.

“Christin…” he said softly. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“Leave!” Christin screamed.

Austin stepped back into the room, his chest tight. He stayed there, waiting.

Nearly an hour passed before the door finally opened.

Christin stepped out. His eyes were swollen, his breathing uneven.

“What happened?” Austin asked carefully, moving toward him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Christin replied stubbornly. He went to the dining table to fetch himself some cold water.

Austin followed behind quietly, refusing to back down. He couldn’t tolerate another day of Christin being aloof.

“Is it related to the shoot?”, Austin’s voice lingered as he carefully looked at Christin.

“When am I ever fine after a shoot”, Christin lamented.

Austin was silent. He stood still as he watched him, clearly something was bothering him.

“If I did something to upset you, I apologise,” Austin mumbled.

“What are you even apologising for?” Christin’s tone was sharp.

Am I the problem…? Anxiety seeped into his heart. “I wouldn’t know if you won’t tell me,” Austin added.

Christin remained silent.

Austin slowly walked toward Christin and placed his hands on his shoulders.
“Just a couple of days ago, you told me to put efforts into mending things with Andrei. Now you won’t even spare me a glance… What changed?” His eyes were etched with pain.

“Nothing… I just realised I was depending too much on you…” Christin tried to push Austin away.

Austin didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong with depending on friends? I thought we were at least friends …”

“Friends don’t stay together all the time,” Christin replied, lowering his gaze.

Austin moved his hands from Christin’s shoulders to his waist and pulled him closer. With one hand, he lifted Christin’s face and looked into those blue eyes. Those blue eyes which once had a mysterious warmth… looked like deep endless sea of despair.
“Excuses… You are terrible at lying.”

Christin flinched. The feelings he had buried deep down were slowly resurfacing. His hands clenched against Austin’s chest.

Austin wasn’t going to let him escape. He tightened his grip. As he caressed Christin’s face, he pressed his forehead against Christin’s. He could feel it in his heart, the warm fuzzy feeling he sensed from Christin was slowly sweeping away. Inside him, the waves of different emotions crashed against one another, but one emotion lingered louder than any other—

Fear…

He brushed his thumb lightly over Christin’s lips.
“All that comes out of your little mouth sounds like a lie,” Austin murmured.

Christin felt like he couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe.

“Austin…” he finally managed. “Do you hold all your on-screen lovers like this?”

Austin startled and pulled away, his brows twitching.
“Are you trying to hurt me?” he asked, his voice strained. “Because you definitely succeeded.”

“Why? Did I say something wrong?” Christin didn’t stop.

Austin stayed silent. He loosened his grip around Christin, irritation written all over him.

Christin’s frustration boiled over. He grabbed Austin by the collar and pulled him closer.

“Is it that fun, playing with me?” His emotions spilled over. His eyes filled with tears.
“Are you upset because you can’t have your fun with me—”

Tears rolled down his face as he lost control.
“Say something!” he yelled.

A brief silence followed.

As Christin was about to let go of Austin in disappointment, Austin grabbed his hand. He pulled it back, making Christin lean forward, tightened his grip around his waist once more—

And pressed his lips against Christin’s.

Christin froze.

As Austin pulled away, he muttered,
“I like you.”

Christin couldn’t react.

“I’ve failed four times,” Austin continued, his voice unsteady. “I didn’t want to it to be the fifth.” He looked into Christin’s eyes, vulnerable. “I thought… if not lovers, we could at least be friends.”
He looked away, hesitating.
“Plus… you’re a man.”

Christin didn’t know whether to feel relieved that the attraction was mutual—or devastated that he was nothing more than an attraction.

The Russian Paradox.
More than a title, it felt like a curse.

He pushed Austin away. Austin stood there, ashamed.

Christin grabbed his phone. The light drained from his eyes as he dialled a number.

“Andrei… I want to go home,” he said, tears spilling again.

He sat on the bed, staring into nothingness. Time passed quickly. He heard his name being called a few times but didn’t respond.

His tears dried.

He waited motionless.

A knock came at the door.
“Christin!”

He opened it. Andrei stood there, holding a bag of chocolate ice cream.

“What happened?” Andrei asked, his eyes catching the tear stains. He also noticed Austin standing behind him, concern etched across his face.

Christin hugged Andrei and buried his face into his shoulder.
“I’m tired… and dizzy. Take me home, please.”

Andrei tensed immediately. He gripped Christin’s hand, worry flooding his gaze.
“Let’s go.”

Austin was left behind.

Reality seeped in slowly.

Not only had he finally put a name to his feelings—he had hurt Christin too.

He said he’d never been in a relationship, Austin thought.

The last thing he ever wanted was to become another source of trauma.

The suite felt larger than usual, the silence swallowing him whole.

He sat on Christin’s bed and glanced at the desk.

He’s gone.

His gaze fell on the framed photograph of Christin’s parents. He resembled his father—yet cheerful like his mother. Then Austin noticed a smaller photograph tucked into the corner of the frame.

Is this his Papa?

His breath hitched. Tears welled in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for hurting your son,” he whispered.

Tears fell onto the glass.
“I like him… but he’s a man.”

Christin’s sobs echoed in his memory.

“I’m scared of relationships,” Austin murmured. “Not because he’s lacking—because I am weak.”

“What if one day, just like the others, he leaves me?”

His breathing broke.

“He already left.”

Tears streamed down his face as he clutched the frame to his chest.

His heart had broken—before anything had even begun.