After their class, Dylan quickly told Flynn that he wouldn't be able to walk him home since he had to meet Brent.
"Just message me when you get back to the apartment," Dylan said.
"My phone doesn't have any credit," Flynn replied.
"Okay, wait," Dylan said, pulling out his phone.
A moment later, Flynn's phone vibrated with a notification. When he checked it, he saw that five thousand credits had been transferred to his account.
"W–wait, why did you send so much?" Flynn said. "This could last me a whole year."
"That's fine," Dylan replied. "Now you don't have any excuse not to update me."
"Alright, go already," Flynn said. "Who knows what Brent might do if you're late."
Dylan only nodded, turned around, and headed toward the parking lot where his car was parked.
Flynn stayed where he was, watching Dylan walk away. Just as Dylan was getting closer to the parking area, Flynn's phone buzzed again.
A message from Dylan appeared on the screen.
Take care on your way home.
Flynn smirked and typed back, You could've just said that before you turned around and left.
I prefer texting, Dylan replied.
Okay.
A few seconds later, another message popped up.
I miss you.
Flynn frowned at the screen. You literally just left.
I miss you already, Dylan replied, followed by a sad emoji.
Don't be dramatic, Flynn typed.
Another sad emoji appeared in response.
Flynn couldn't believe the messages he was reading. Dylan sounded like a child who hadn't seen him in days, even though they had only just parted—and were still within sight of each other.
Be safe, Flynn finally sent.
When Dylan read the message, a smile spread across his face before he got into his car.
-
After Brent's meeting, he and Dylan went straight to a restaurant for dinner. While they were eating, Brent noticed Dylan staring at his phone again, barely touching his food, as if waiting for a message to come through.
"So," Brent said, breaking the silence, "how's school?"
"It's fine," Dylan replied. "Actually, my grades have gotten better—especially since Flynn's been helping me. You know how smart he is. Almost all the teachers know him, and some departments even want to recruit him." Dylan spoke with unmistakable pride.
Brent couldn't help but notice the excitement in Dylan's voice every time he mentioned Flynn's name. "And what about studying abroad?" he asked.
Dylan paused mid-bite. "Honestly, it's not something I'm thinking about. I told you before—I'm not interested in my father's business."
"But there's no one else who'll inherit it but you."
"I don't want to inherit his company's problems."
"I know you could change the company if you wanted to."
"Maybe," Dylan said. "But for now, it's not on my mind." He went back to eating, then added casually, "By the way, when are you heading back to Singapore?"
"I've barely been here a week and you already want me gone?" Brent replied dryly.
Before answering, Dylan reached for the wine bottle and filled Brent's glass. "It's not like that. I just know you're busy and that you still have a company to manage."
"I'll take care of that," Brent said. "I told you—some of my work is based here right now. That's why I'm here."
"Okay," Dylan replied simply.
Just then, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from Flynn.
I'm home.
Dylan replied immediately.
Okay, baby. I'll head back soon after I'm done accompanying Brent.
Brent noticed the smile that instantly spread across Dylan's face. "What exactly is your relationship with your new cousin?" he asked. "You're smiling like that and barely paying attention to me. You used to be the one constantly trying to get my attention—always wanting me to come back home sooner."
"You're jealous," Dylan teased.
"I'm not jealous," Brent said. "I'm just saying—you've changed a lot."
"People change."
Brent shifted the topic, his tone turning critical. "The things in your apartment—why do they all look so cheap? And why are there so few of them? Everything's so small."
"My allowance is just enough," Dylan replied. "And it's only Flynn and me living there. That's all we need."
"Doesn't your father give you more?"
"I don't accept it."
Brent let out a quiet sigh, frustrated by the stubbornness of his younger cousin.
"I need to go home first. Your meeting's over anyway. Just book a ride back to your hotel—I'm not driving you," Dylan said, hurriedly finishing his food.
"Why the sudden rush?" Brent asked.
"You're fine on your own. Just message me if you need anything. I'm leaving now." Dylan said this as he finished the last bite, then stood up and headed out.
Brent let out a quiet sigh, picked up his wine glass, and drained it in one go.
When Dylan got home, he found Flynn talking on the phone, sitting cross-legged on the bed. Flynn quickly ended the call and set his phone on the table.
Dylan wondered who Flynn had been talking to but didn't ask.
"You're home," Flynn said.
Dylan immediately flopped onto the bed, exhaustion written all over him.
"How was your outing with your brother?" Flynn asked.
"As usual. Boring. He basically made me his driver and dragged me to all his meetings," Dylan replied.
"When's he going back to Singapore?"
"I don't know. But I think he'll be staying for a while," Dylan said.
Flynn just nodded and lay back down to sleep.
Dylan stayed where he was for a moment, watching Flynn. He knew Flynn was hiding something, but he didn't push—he didn't want the conversation to turn into an argument.