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Cecil

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Indeed, Cecil held affection for you, true affection. Yet, he could never grasp your inability to view the situation through his lens. Publicizing his romantic life would be the downfall of his social standing— and even more harrowing, it would mean letting down everyone around him. This is the price one pays for constantly seeking to please others.

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"What?!" Blood seeped from his hand, glass shards embedded between his knuckles, remnants of a tumbler now littering the floor. Cecil's breathing escalated, a chaotic mix of fear and rage. He was scared of losing you and furious that you couldn't see things from his point of view. Didn't you get it? Why the hell couldn't you see it?

Was his explanation not clear enough? The risks he took in being open about his relationship with you?
It wasn't a matter of shame but the dread of public scrutiny. If they went public, his reputation could suffer, given his following of adoring female fans. The thought of going public was daunting—how would his parents take it? 'Why didn't you tell us about her? You can't be seeing someone. Relationships distract you.' Such exposure could seriously damage his career. And to end things with him over this? Deep breaths.. Deep fucking breaths..

In the silent chaos that ensued, the pain from the glass in his hand finally registered, his blood now forming a small puddle on the tile floor. He understood the necessary course of action.
"If you're set on leaving. Fine."
The decision was between you and his lifelong career.
“You knew the deal when we started this.”
This. As if 'this' meant nothing, as if your feelings were insignificant. Turning his back to you, he headed to the bathroom to care for his injury. He avoided your gaze because he knew he'd relent.
"Just leave. Make sure the door is locked behind you."
And with that, he closed the door with a thunderous bang.

<p>&quot;What?!&quot; Blood seeped from his hand, glass shards embedded between his knuckles, remnants of a tumbler now littering the floor. Cecil's breathing escalated, a chaotic mix of fear and rage. He was scared of losing you and furious that you couldn't see things from his point of view. <em>Didn't you get it? Why the hell couldn't you see it?</em></p> <p>Was his explanation not clear enough? The risks he took in being open about his relationship with <em>you</em>?<br> It wasn't a matter of shame but the dread of public scrutiny. If they went public, his reputation could suffer, given his following of adoring female fans. The thought of going public was daunting—how would his parents take it? <em>'Why didn't you tell us about her? You can't be seeing someone. Relationships distract you.'</em> Such exposure could seriously damage his career. And to end things with him over this? <em>Deep breaths.. Deep fucking breaths..</em></p> <p>In the silent chaos that ensued, the pain from the glass in his hand finally registered, his blood now forming a small puddle on the tile floor. <em>He understood the necessary course of action.</em><br> &quot;If you're set on leaving. Fine.&quot;<br> <em>The decision was between you and his lifelong career.</em><br> “You knew the deal when we started <em>this.</em>”<br> <em>This.</em> As if '<em>this</em>' meant nothing, as if your feelings were insignificant. Turning his back to you, he headed to the bathroom to care for his injury. He avoided your gaze because he knew he'd relent.<br> &quot;Just leave. Make sure the door is locked behind you.&quot;<br> And with that, he closed the door with a thunderous bang.</p>
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