"Get the fuck out of my way!" I snapped, shoving past people as I forced my way through the packed sidewalk of the Strip.

Neon lights blurred overhead, music blasted from somewhere nearby, voices overlapping into a wall of noise—but none of it mattered.

I saw him.

And he was getting away.

"Fuck..." I grunted as I slammed into some random lady, barely even registering her as I pushed past. My shoulder clipped someone else, then another, people shouting behind me as I kept forcing my way forward.

The crowd was too thick.

Too slow.

Every step felt like fighting against a current that didn't want to let me through. I tried to pick up speed, breaking into a run, but it barely made a difference.

Bodies everywhere.

Tourists stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, people taking pictures, groups blocking entire sections—it was a nightmare.

I caught another glimpse of him between the gaps.

Further now.

"Move!" I shouted again, frustration boiling over as I shoved past another group.

My breathing grew heavier, more desperate.

I tried to run again, weaving through people, but the crowd swallowed any momentum I had.

Too many people.

Too many obstacles.

And he was slipping further away.

One last glance—

And he was gone.

Completely.

Like he had just vanished into the crowd, swallowed whole by the chaos of the Strip.

"What the fuck!" I shouted, my hands flying to my head as I spun around, trying to catch even a glimpse of him again.

Nothing.

Just strangers.

Lights.

Noise.

My chest tightened painfully.

That was my chance.

My only chance.

"All of you! You're all assholes! I hate all of you!" I screamed, my voice cracking as the frustration and panic spilled out. People slowed down, some turning to stare, others pulling out their phones, but I didn't care.

I couldn't care.

Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my face as everything hit me at once.

The anger.

The loss.

The desperation.

"My love... my everything..." I choked out, my voice breaking completely as I stood there in the middle of it all, crying openly while the crowd moved around me like I didn't even matter.

Like he had never been there.

Like I had imagined it all.

But I hadn't.

I knew I hadn't.

And now he was gone.

—

(Miguel pov)

The plane jolted slightly as the wheels touched the runway, the impact running through my body and snapping me out of the quiet haze I'd been sitting in.

I inhaled slowly, looking out the window as the ground rushed past beneath us, the engines roaring as the aircraft began to slow. 

The city lights in the distance felt different from Vegas—less overwhelming, less chaotic. Familiar in a way I couldn't fully explain.

Almost like I could breathe again.

My fingers rested against the armrest as the plane continued rolling, the tension I'd been carrying for what felt like forever finally starting to ease, little by little.

"I feel safer here," I muttered, more to myself than anything.

Carla, sitting beside me, glanced over briefly. Her posture had been calm the entire flight, but there was a quiet attentiveness in the way she looked at me now.

"I'm glad," she said softly.

The engines gradually quieted as the plane came to a full stop. Outside, the runway lights stretched into the distance, steady and grounded—nothing like the flashing chaos we had just left behind.

I let out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding.

Being here didn't fix everything.

But it felt like distance.

And right now... distance was enough.

We stepped off the plane and into the familiar black truck waiting for us nearby. The door shut with a heavy thud behind me, and as I settled into the seat, I couldn't help but relax a little.

This truck... it really did feel like a second home.

Same scent, same quiet hum of the engine, same sense of security wrapping around me the moment I was inside.

"Balcony sex?" Carla muttered suddenly.

I turned my head toward her, blinking in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

She looked over at me with a small, playful smile tugging at her lips.

"Let's have balcony sex."

I stared at her for a second, then let out a quiet chuckle, shaking my head slightly.

"Sure," I said, nodding, the tension from earlier easing just a bit as her usual boldness slipped back into place.

The truck started moving, carrying us through the night toward home.

As I stared out the window, watching the streets pass by in a blur, a thought suddenly crept into my mind.

Something I hadn't thought about all week.

My stomach dropped.

I tried to remember.

Last week... before the first flight... before everything.

Did I bring it?

I replayed it over and over in my head, trying to find that one moment—grabbing it, swallowing it—but the harder I tried, the more blank it felt.

Nothing.

No memory.

Just uncertainty.

"Oh god..." I muttered under my breath, the realization hitting me all at once.

My chest tightened again, a different kind of panic setting in now—quieter, but just as suffocating.

I turned my head toward Carla.

She noticed immediately.

Her brows furrowed slightly, confusion crossing her face as she glanced between me and the road.

"What?" she asked, her tone shifting, picking up on the fear in my voice.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out at first.

I didn't even know how to explain it.

"I... I don't know if I took my safety pill," I finally said, my voice low and unsteady.

Even saying it out loud made it feel more real.

My hands tightened slightly in my lap.

"I can't remember..." I added, shaking my head, the fear building as the silence stretched between us.

"Oh god..." I whispered again, my thoughts spiraling faster the more I tried to make sense of it.

Carla reacted instantly.

"Hey, hey... calm down, Miguel," she said, her voice steady but gentle, one hand briefly leaving the wheel to rest against my thigh, grounding me. "We'll talk about this when we get home, okay?"

I swallowed hard, my chest still tight, but her tone helped slow everything down just a little.

I nodded, even though the uncertainty was still sitting heavy in my stomach.

"A-Alright..." I muttered, my voice quieter now.

I leaned back into the seat, trying to steady my breathing as the truck continued down the road. The passing lights outside flickered across the window, but I barely noticed them anymore.

All I could think about was that one missing memory.

And what it might mean.

——