Rain of Youth With No Shelter

During my live stream as a relationship coach, a girl joined the audio call to ask a question.

My boyfriend has an emotional detachment disorder. What should I do?

I paused for a second before replying.

You could try buying an emotion-sharing bracelet to track his mood changes.

The girl let out a heavy sigh.

"His cousin already bought him one of those. But honestly, it feels like a total scam. Every time I get close to him, no matter what we're doing, the bracelet always shows his heart rate spiking. He's always 'excited.' Don't believe me? Look."

She turned on her camera and pulled the boys wrist into the frame.

The camera caught the side of his face, and the live chat instantly went wild. The viewers cheered, gushing about how the girl had found her true soulmate and scored an absolute catch.

I stared frozen at the screen.

The elegant features, the clean jawline... he was indeed incredibly handsome. But he looked exactly like Eric, my childhood sweetheart and my boyfriend of three years.

I slowly looked down at my own wrist, staring at my bracelet.

The screen of my bracelet had remained completely blank even when he confessed his love to me, as if his heart were made of stone. But right now, the device on my wrist was vibrating violently, showing that his heart rate on the other end was spiking frantically.

He was indeed "excited."

My heart plummeted to the very bottom of my chest. I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper, trying to stop my body from trembling.

When I finally looked back at the screen, the live stream had flooded with even more viewers. The chat was a blur of excited comments.

"He's gorgeous! I'm so jealous!"

"Oh my god, how did you land a guy like that? Please share your secrets!"

The girls cheeks flushed, and she offered a shy, pampered smile.

"Actually, he was really easy to win over. I fell in love with him at first sight at a local coffee shop, and then..."

She spoke with the effortless confidence of a princess who had been adored her entire life. She went on and on, describing every detail of their relationship.

And with every word she spoke, the details of her romance began to overlap with my own life.

On Valentine's Day, I had asked for a simple bouquet of flowers. Eric told me he couldn't afford them with his part-time wage, but then he turned around and bought her a massive bouquet of nine hundred and ninety-nine roses.

I hated cilantro, and he always complained that I was too picky. Yet he would patiently spend ten minutes picking every single leaf out of her bowl, memorizing every little preference she had.

When my period cramps kept me awake at night, he told me to suck it up and go to sleep. But when she was on her cycle, he prepared pain relievers and held a heating pad against her stomach all night long.

I used to think he just didn't understand love, that his condition made him numb to emotions. I believed that one day, my warmth would finally cure him.

But it turned out the problem wasn't his diagnosis. It was just that I wasn't her.

The chat began to flood with red heart emojis, with viewers chanting for them to kiss.

On the screen, Eric gently cupped the girls face, looking into her eyes with a tenderness I had never seen in all our years together.

My bracelet was vibrating so hard it hurt my skin. I couldn't bear to watch another second.

I muted the live stream and dialed Erics number.

A few seconds later, the handsome face vanished from the camera feed. Erics deep, familiar voice came through my speaker.

"Minka, is something wrong? I'm currently busy at my part-time job."

A wave of bitter disappointment washed over me. I asked, desperate for a lie that made sense.

"Where are you working? Didn't you tell me today was your day off?"

There was a tense silence on the other end, followed by the girls muffled voice in the background.

"Eric, who is that?"

Erics voice instantly turned frantic.

"Minka, the manager is calling my name. I have to go."

The line went dead.

I looked back at the live stream. Eric had returned to the camera, gently stroking the girls hair.

"It's nothing, sweetie. Just a spam caller."

A spam caller.

I sat frozen, the tears finally spilling over my eyelashes and splashing onto my hands.

After shutting down the live stream, I curled into a tight ball in the corner of my room. I opened the girls profile page on social media.

Unlike me, an orphan who had grown up in a sterile group home, her feed was filled with beautiful, sunlit snippets of a perfect life: designer outfits, travel vlogs, and sweet couple videos.

Her latest video had been posted yesterday. It was a vlog of her and Eric at Disneyland.

The cold, emotionless Eric who never smiled in my presence was laughing like a happy child after she stole a kiss on his cheek.

I scrolled down.

Almost every single video featured Eric. He spent his days accompanying her to cat cafes and movie theaters, all while telling me he was too busy working extra shifts to take me out on a proper date.

The very first video at the bottom of her feed was their official relationship announcement.

The date of the post was the day of our high school graduation, which also happened to be our three-year anniversary.

On that exact day, Eric had held my hand and promised we would go to the same university. He told me we would save up for tuition together and build a life that would last forever.

I just hadn't realized that his version of forever was so incredibly short.

I couldn't stop the tears. With a trembling finger, I reported her account for harassment, shut off my phone, and buried my face in my knees.

Just then, the receptionist at my workplace tapped on my door, telling me someone was waiting for me in the lobby.

I wiped my face and walked out, only to run straight into the girl from the live stream.

I recognized her instantly. It was Luna.

She offered a bright, polished smile and dragged me down to the coffee shop on the ground floor.

"Hi there! I'm Luna, Erics girlfriend. You were the relationship coach on the stream, right?"

"Actually, there were so many details I didn't get to share on the call. Eric fell in love with me at first sight, too..."

I took a sip of my black coffee. It was incredibly bitter.

She kept talking, her words like tiny, poison-tipped needles driving straight into my chest.

I set my cup down and stood up, desperate to escape her suffocating presence. But Luna grabbed my wrist, her smile fading into something sharp and cold.

"I know exactly who you are to him, Minka. I joined your stream today on purpose."

"He doesn't love you anymore. In his heart, you aren't even his girlfriend. Hes just too soft-hearted to hurt you, so I decided to do it for him."

I slowly sat back down, staring directly into her eyes.

"And what exactly is your role here? The homewrecker?"

Luna flinched, her cheeks flushing as she tried to defend herself.

"I am not a homewrecker! I'm the one Eric actually loves, not you!"

She thrust her hands forward, showing off a gleaming gold ring and a matching bracelet.

"Eric bought these for me. I never demanded anything from him, and I didn't care that he was poor. But he insisted on working three different jobs just to treat me like a princess."

"You were never a girlfriend to him, Minka. You were just a chore. He only stayed with you out of pity. He felt sorry for you because of what your biological father tried to do to you when you were thirteen..."

The dark, suffocating memories of my thirteenth year rushed back, threatening to tear my mind apart.

My eyes went wide, and my voice trembled with a dangerous, quiet rage.

"Eric told you about that?"

Luna nodded with a smug, superior look.

"Eric didn't do anything wrong. You're just dirty, and you expect him to carry your baggage forever."

I let out a hysterical, breathless laugh.

I had never imagined that the boy who had dragged me out of that living nightmare, the boy who had held me while I screamed and promised to protect me for the rest of my life, would turn my deepest trauma into a pathetic joke to share with another girl.

Luna stood up, looking down at me with utter contempt.

"I've said what I came to say. If you have any dignity left, stay away from him."

She picked up her bag, which was adorned with a handmade cartoon charm Eric had crafted for her, and walked out, leaving me alone in the quiet cafe.

I sat there in a daze for hours, watching the rain start to fall outside.

By the time I walked back to the orphanage, a cold drizzle was soaking through my clothes, the wind stinging my face.

My phone kept buzzing with messages from Eric, telling me he had finished his shift and asking why I wasn't home yet. I ignored them all.

A moment later, his face appeared on my screen as a video call. I answered it.

"Where are you?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine panic. "Why are you walking in the rain?"

My bracelet lit up, showing that his emotional state was set to "anxious."

For a moment, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. For years, I had prayed for the day he would finally feel something for me. But now, his concern only made him look like a stranger.

"Find some shelter. I'm coming to get you."

He threw on a jacket and rushed out of his room.

I hung up and crouched by the side of the road. On the location-sharing app, his icon was moving toward me at a frantic pace. Within minutes, he appeared through the curtain of rain, holding a large umbrella.

He rushed over and held the umbrella over my head, soaking his own shoulders.

"Minka, why didn't you call me to pick you up? You're going to catch a cold. Your health has always been fragile."

I looked up into his dark eyes. They were as gentle as they had always been during the eighteen years we had spent surviving together.

But I realized I had never truly known him.

We were both abandoned children. From the moment I could remember, my world had consisted entirely of the orphanage and the school, and neither place had felt like home.

"You're an unwanted child," the other kids would whisper.

I used to hide in the dark corners of the playground and cry, until a young Eric found me and promised that he would be my family.

From that day on, we became inseparable. We fought off the bullies together, cried together, and shared every meager scrap of happiness we could find.

When I was thirteen, my biological father, a raging alcoholic, had suddenly dragged me back to his apartment under the guise of wanting to be a real parent. But that very night, he pinned me to the bed.

It was Eric who had rallied the neighbors and broken down the door to save me. It was Eric who had held me through my suicide attempts, whispering that he was there, that he would always be there.

He helped me survive those damp, dark years, guiding me toward our eighteenth year, until I finally had the courage to walk with my head held high, to wear dresses, and to believe that none of it was my fault.

So how did we end up here?

My head spun violently. My strength vanished, and I collapsed backward onto the wet pavement.

When I opened my eyes again, a warm towel was resting on my forehead. Eric was hovering over me, his face pale with worry.

"Minka, you're awake. Drink this medicine. You have a terrible fever."

My body felt incredibly heavy. I let him help me sit up and took the cup from his hands.

"Minka, don't go to your part-time job tomorrow," he said softly. "Just focus on recovering. I've looked at several universities. Tomorrow, we should submit our applications together. I want us to go to the same school so we can stay together forever."

My ears rang with a deafening static.

The contrast between his words and his actions was too much to bear. My hand trembled, and the porcelain cup slipped from my fingers, shattering against the floor.

"Eric, why?"

He froze, looking up at me in confusion.

"You didn't go to work today, did you?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Weren't you on a live stream with a girl?"

Eric reached out to grab my hand, his voice laced with panic.

"What girl? Minka, the fever is making you hallucinate. Just lie down."

I shoved his hand away and held up my phone, showing him the screenshot of the live stream.

Eric stared at the screen for a full minute. His eyes shifted from shock to panic, before finally settling into an eerie, calm resignation.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing.

"So you know. But it's not what you think, Minka."

I let out a bitter, breathless laugh. "Stop lying to me. Luna came to find me today."

He went quiet for a moment before speaking.

"Minka, I'm just so tired. Neither of us has a healthy soul. We're too heavy for each other. Luna is like a little sun. Being with her is so easy, so light. But I swear, we're just friends. I haven't crossed any lines."

He spoke with such calm, casual sincerity. But as he spoke Luna's name, the corners of his mouth tilted upward in a subconscious smile, and the bracelet on my wrist vibrated with his excitement.

I pointed to the device, my voice shaking with rage.

"Then what is this? I thought you couldn't feel love, Eric?"

Eric suddenly stood up, ripping the bracelet off his wrist and hurling it against the wall.

"Fine! Maybe I can feel things! But at least she doesn't act like a paranoid lunatic all day, suffocating everyone around her! I'm juggling school, working part-time, and constantly walking on eggshells to protect your fragile ego! I am exhausted!"

I stared at him, my throat dry. I wanted to ask him if he had forgotten all the sacrifices I had made for him, but the words wouldn't come. My head began to spin again.

Seeing my pale face, Erics expression softened slightly, and he sat back down beside me.

"Minka, please. Don't make a scene. This is the last time. I'll cut ties with Luna, okay? Just take your medicine."

He reached for another cup, but his phone suddenly rang.

Lunas terrified, sobbing voice echoed through the room.

"Eric, help me! I'm so scared... I came to the orphanage to find you, but a gang of local thugs has cornered me..."

The background of the call was filled with the sounds of whistling and lewd laughter.

Erics face drained of color. He dropped the medicine, pushed past me, and bolted out of the room.

My chest felt as if it had been struck by a sledgehammer. He had just promised to cut ties with her, yet he abandoned me without a second thought.

I lay in the dark, the tears quietly slipping down my cheeks until my eyes were swollen and dry.

Later that night, I heard the frantic voice of the orphanage director from the hallway.

"Eric got into a fight and was taken to the police station! I have to go over there right now!"

I dragged my aching body out of bed and made my way to the station.

The moment I arrived, I ran straight into Eric as he was walking out of the lobby. His face darkened with fury the moment he saw me.

"Minka! Did you hire those thugs to attack Luna? Do you have any idea how close she came to being assaulted?"

The world seemed to tilt beneath my feet. I leaned against the cold wall for support.

"It wasn't me. We're in a police station, Eric. You can ask them to investigate."

"Minka, do you want to destroy my life?"

Luna emerged from behind Eric, her eyes red and tearful as she clung to his arm.

"Those thugs admitted that you paid them to do it. Just because you're dirty doesn't mean you have to drag everyone else down into the mud!"

With a sudden screech, she stepped forward and slapped me across the face.

The force of the blow stung my cheek. I raised my hand to strike her back, but Eric grabbed my wrist and shoved me hard. I lost my footing and crashed onto the floor.

He gently wiped the tears from Luna's eyes before turning to glare at me.

"Apologize to Luna, Minka."

I stared up at him, my teeth clenched.

"I didn't do it."

Erics chest heaved with frustration. "Fine. You've made your choice. Don't regret this."

I didn't understand what he meant until I unlocked my phone an hour later.

The school group chat was flooded with a video.

It was a recording of the night my biological father had tried to assault me when I was thirteen.

A barrage of cruel, mocking messages began to fill my screen, and my phone started ringing incessantly with calls from unknown numbers.

The shame and despair crushed the air from my lungs. I crawled to Erics feet, clutching his jeans.

"Why? How could you do this to me?"

Eric looked down at me, his face devoid of any emotion as he wrapped his arm around Lunas shoulders.

"If you won't apologize, you have to compensate her somehow."

He walked away, leaving me alone in the sterile hallway of the police station.

My vision went dark, and I collapsed onto the floor.

When I finally woke up, a week had passed. The director told me I had suffered a severe nervous breakdown from the fever and the trauma. While I was unconscious, she had submitted my university applications for me.

I nodded numbly and opened my phone. There was a single thread of messages from Eric.

Minka, I've moved out of the orphanage.

What you did to Luna is behind us now. Consider us even.

But Luna is still having nightmares. If you come and apologize to her, I'll still agree to go to Ames University with you.

I didn't reply. I deleted his contact and cleared the chat.

I spent the rest of the summer working extra shifts and saving every penny I could. On the day I boarded the train to my new university, I saw Eric in the crowded station.

He glanced at me, but with the mask over my face, he didn't recognize me. He was too busy trying to make a video call.

I declined his call, blocked his number, and sent one final message.

Goodbye, Eric.

My old bracelet, which I had kept in my pocket, began to vibrate, showing that his emotional state was "anxious."

I tossed the device into a nearby trash can, turned around, and boarded the train heading in the exact opposite direction of his future.