Villain Ch 1789. A Fool
They were loud.
Messy.
Unpredictable.
And somehow perfect.
Allen looked back at the mirror.
The reflection tilted his head—just like he did when he was thinking of DPS rotations.
Same eyes.
Same face.
But… not the same man.
That Allen?
He didn't know laughter.
Didn't know what it meant to have seven different people cheering for him, teasing him, or staying beside him when he was at his worst.
He didn't know what it felt like to be seen in both his strongest and weakest moments—when he was on fire, when he was moody, when his dark side took over, when he was cracked open and raw—and not be abandoned for it.
He didn't know what it was like to have a team who chose to watch his back instead of stabbing it.
Didn't know what it was like to be surrounded by people who didn't resent him for standing in the spotlight, but pushed him into it because they believed he belonged there.
He reached out.
Cold.
Too real.
