Pond, Joong, and Marc were already at the cafeteria. Their morning class had ended early, so they decided to grab a bite at their usual spot. Austin was the only one missing—probably still stuck talking to their professor.
"This is taking forever. I'm starving," Joong complained, frowning.
"Relax. You know him—he'll get mad if we don't wait," Pond replied with a laugh.
"What are they talking about?" Marc asked, curious.
"Probably one of the donations his dad made to the school. That's always the topic," Pond said, turning to Marc. "Wait, let me message him."
After ending his conversation with Austin, Pond turned to the two and said, "He's on his way, he says."
"Great! I'm hungry too," Joong replied cheerfully.
A few minutes later, Austin finally arrived—but he wasn't in his usual mood. His expression was tense, a deep frown etched across his face as he walked toward their table.
Pond raised an eyebrow. "What happened to your face?"
Austin didn't respond immediately. He quietly sat down, staring blankly at his food, muttering in a bored tone, "My father used his money again to donate something to this ridiculous school."
"What donation this time?" Marc asked, curiosity written all over his face.
Austin shrugged, not even bothering to look up. Clearly, he couldn't care less.
"Wait a second," Pond chuckled. "So you spent all that time talking to the professor and didn't even ask?"
"I wasn't even listening," Austin replied, rolling his eyes. "And frankly, I don't care. Let's just eat—I'm hungry," he added, digging into his food.
"Oh, by the way—have you heard about the party?" Joong asked, glancing between the three of them.
"What party?" Marc asked, brow furrowed in curiosity.
Austin didn't flinch. He was too busy enjoying his food to care.
"Is it the welcome party for the Buenavista heir?" Pond asked.
"Yeah! Isn't he your relative? My parents even received an invitation. I heard they're coming back today."
Pond glanced at Austin briefly before nodding. "Yeah. He's my relative—on my mom's side."
Marc turned to Austin. "So, are you going? Your family's probably invited too."
"Nope. Not my thing," Austin said flatly.
"Come on, man. We're all going. You should come too," Marc insisted.
"We have class," Austin replied without looking up.
"It's on Saturday, Austin. No classes. Besides, the venue has a mini-bar. We can even have a drink after the party," Joong added with a grin.
"Joong's right," Pond said, smirking at Austin. "And trust me, you might see something interesting there."
Austin paused and glanced at Pond suspiciously, sensing something behind that smirk—but he didn't respond. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh and continued eating.
In the end, he had no choice but to agree. Even if he didn't want to go, he knew his parents would insist—and knowing his father, that man loved putting on a happy family act, which was the exact opposite of their reality.
Beau's POV
We've finally arrived in the Philippines. We got here just yesterday, and honestly, everything still feels unreal.
I've been thinking a lot about meeting my parents—the ones who adopted me and raised me when I had no one else. They're the only family I've known for so long. But now... everything's changing.
Earlier, I was casually walking around the house, planning to say goodbye to Mom and Dad before heading out. But then I stopped.
I heard them talking. They were planning something.
"A party? Seriously?" I muttered to myself, hiding behind the wall like a spy.
"My welcome party," I whispered.
I took a deep breath, stepped into the room, and tried to act casual.
"Hey, Mom, Dad. Good morning," I said, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek as I always did.
"Good morning, sweetheart," Dad smiled warmly.
"What are you doing?" I asked, pretending ignorance about what I just overheard.
Mom grinned. "We actually arranged a party for you, Beau. We just feel like everyone should know that our long-lost son is finally home."
"We're so proud of you, son," Dad added.
"But Mom…" I tried to protest.
"No buts, Beau. It's already decided. Besides, you'll get to meet a lot of people there, I promise," Dad said, cutting me off with his comforting smile.
"Fine," I said quietly, giving in. I mean… I didn't really have a choice.
But deep inside, I felt out of place.
This isn't the life I'm used to.
I grew up in the slums—dirty, loud, and unforgiving. I lived where survival was a daily battle. I worked hard every day just to eat. Some days, I went to school with an empty stomach and an empty wallet.
And now?
Everything's changed.
The day my real parents showed up at our small, broken house and told me I was their long-lost son… that day turned my whole world upside down.
**Austin's POV**
The sun was still merciless even in the afternoon. I squinted as we walked along the shaded corridor back to our next class. My bag felt heavier than usual—or maybe it was the dragging mood of a Monday.
"By the way, Austin, where were you yesterday? You just left," Pond asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes like I had committed a crime.
I shot him a flat look. "I went home, probably. I messaged you all in our group chat," I replied, rolling my eyes.
Seriously. People act like I disappeared off the face of the earth when I literally gave them a heads-up.
"Haha! Don't tell me you didn't read it, Pond?" Joong chimed in with a teasing grin.
Pond groaned, rubbing his temple. "I was so drunk yesterday, okay? I didn't even know how I got home."
Marc burst into laughter. "Bro, you were totally wasted! Thank me later—I carried you home. You were that wasted."
I chuckled under my breath. Classic Pond. Drinks like it's his last night on earth and acts surprised he blacked out.
"Shut up, Marc. I'm still pissed about that professor—I was late and he lost it immediately," Pond snapped. "Besides, I should be thankful I even got in class."
"Hahaha!" Joong laughed even harder. "Don't try to be like Austin. No matter how drunk he gets, no matter the party, he still shows up early for class. And he even got a perfect score on the exam earlier! Seriously, Austin, you're my idol!"
I raised a brow at him, unamused. "Shut up, Joong," I muttered and walked ahead, pushing open the classroom door before they could make another stupid comment.
Beau's POV
The moment I stepped into the car, everything inside me grew quiet. Outside… it was chaos.
From the window, I saw streets I had tried so hard to forget. The same narrow roads, the same small stores that seemed always open, the same battered tricycles, and the same faces that had once been part of my life.
Nothing had changed.
Noisy. Chaotic. Dirty.
Yet despite everything—despite how different my life is now—I felt something heavy in my chest. Something whispering:
"This was your home once."
This used to be my life. I ran barefoot on these streets, ate street food on the corner, and cried on that old bench when life felt too heavy for a child.
And now, I was back. A stranger in the place that once called me its own.
Then I saw her.
Standing outside that small, fading house—our old house—was a woman I thought I'd never see again. The woman who once told me to leave. Who told me to follow my "real" parents. The woman who broke her own heart just to give me a better chance at life.
Mom.
My throat tightened.
"Mom…" I whispered, stepping out of the car, my feet heavy with every step.
She turned slowly, as if afraid to believe the voice she just heard. Her eyes locked with mine. Shock spread across her face like wildfire.
"Beau?" she asked, her voice barely audible, trembling. It was the voice of someone seeing a memory come to life.
Tears welled up and then spilled—like she had been holding them back for years.
I didn't wait. I rushed to her and pulled her into the tightest hug I could give.
"I missed you so much, Mom…" I whispered against her shoulder, sobbing. My voice cracked, breaking with every piece of my heart.
Her arms wrapped around me, briefly. Then she pulled away.
Confusion hit me like cold water. I looked at her, searching for warmth, for answers—but her eyes had changed.
They weren't just crying anymore. They were hiding something. Fear. Panic. Guilt?
"Mom? What's wrong? Is there a problem?" I asked, worried.
She shook her head slowly, wiping her tears with the back of her trembling hand.
"You shouldn't be here, Beau. This is no longer your world. You need to leave."
Her voice wasn't angry. It was broken. Desperate. Pleading.
"But Mom—" I tried again, but she stepped back, putting space between us, as if I were a threat. As if I didn't belong.
Then I heard it.
The heavy creak of the old wooden door.
And there he was.
The man who raised me—not with love, but with fists, threats, and empty bottles.
His eyes scanned me like I was trash.
"Oh? Your foster child came to visit?" he said to Mom, a mocking grin on his face.
Mom didn't respond. She looked frozen.
I stood silent, fists clenched.
"Leave now, Beau," she whispered.
"Wait. Why send him away? Let him in. Maybe he has money," he said, greed dripping from his grin.
"I don't have money," I replied coldly.
His smile vanished instantly.
"Worthless. Then why are you even here?" he snapped, pointing at me like I was nothing. "Didn't your mother give you money? I thought your replacement was rich now."
I glared at him. "That money belongs to them. And even if they gave me some, I would never give it to you."
He stepped closer, his tone dark.
"You still have a thick face, huh?"
Mom moved fast this time, rushing to my side and gently pushing me toward the car.
"Leave, Beau. Please. If you love me, just go," she pleaded, desperation heavy in her voice.
My heart shattered again. I wanted to fight. To scream. But seeing her trembling like that told me it wasn't the time.
I got inside the car, and before closing the door, I looked back one last time.
"I promise, Mom. I'll come back. I'll get you out of here. I won't leave you behind."
She didn't answer. Only gave me a small, weak, painful smile.
As the driver pulled away, I couldn't stop looking back.
And what I saw made my blood run cold.
My adoptive father's hand was raised.
Mom flinched. She was crying.
"Mom!" I shouted, but the car moved on.
I slammed my fist on the door, tears streaming down my face.
I closed my eyes tightly, letting the pain consume me.
"I promise, Mom… I'll get you out. No matter what it takes."
"Young Master, are you okay?" the driver asked, glancing at me through the rearview mirror.
I sniffed, forcing myself to sit up straight, walls slowly rising again.
"I'm fine. Just… drive me home."
I wiped my tears on the sleeve of my hoodie.
No one can see me like this.
Mom and Dad can't know I cried.
They can't know I saw the one person I love most hurt again.
But one day… they will.
Because I'm going to fix this.
Even if it breaks me.