Shattered Bonds

EPISODE 32

That weekend, they all decided to meet at their usual restaurant, something they hadn’t done in a while. Laughter filled the air as they caught up, reminiscing about holidays and shared memories.

Food and drinks were served, but the conversation didn’t pause. Then, Drake’s phone rang.

"Excuse me," he said, getting up to take the call.

Minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. Tristan had lost his appetite, pushing his food around his plate. Jersey, who had an idea of what was happening, shifted uncomfortably. Carl and Dylan, engrossed in their own conversation, didn’t seem to notice.

Nathan, however, couldn’t take it anymore. "I’m going to the restroom," he announced. But instead of heading inside, he followed Drake outside.

---

Nathan stepped onto the patio and stopped short. Drake was laughing, completely engrossed in his call.

"When are you finally coming to America?" Drake asked, voice lighter than it had been all night.

Nathan narrowed his eyes.

"But this weekend is already here—oh, Sunday it is then? I can’t wait to see you, Calvin."

Nathan saw red.

"Damn you!" he shouted.

Drake turned just in time to see Nathan storming toward him before a punch landed square on his jaw.

"What the f**k, Nathan?!" Drake yelled, stumbling back.

The commotion caught everyone’s attention. Tristan rushed outside, eyes wide, while Carl and Dylan quickly held Nathan back.

"Nathan! What the hell?!" Tristan snapped, rushing to Drake’s side.

Nathan chuckled darkly. "Of course. Of course, you’d take his side without even asking what happened. But let me make it simple for you—Drake is seeing someone. His name is Calvin."

Tristan’s breath hitched. "That’s not true," Drake growled. "Calvin is my childhood friend."

Nathan’s eyes blazed. “Then why have you barely paid attention to Tristan since you came back? Why are you always on your phone, giggling like a lovesick i***t whenever Calvin texts?”

Drake clenched his fists. "I love Tristan, Nathan! Don’t try to drive a wedge between us just because he didn’t choose you over me!" His voice was sharp. “You’re so bitter, Nathan. Always waiting for a chance to break us up so you can have him for yourself.”

Jersey stiffened. “Drake, stop.”

Drake ignored him, stepping forward. “Admit it. The second you heard I wasn’t around, you rushed over to keep Tristan company, right? Playing the ‘best friend’ card while waiting for a chance to take my place?”

Nathan’s vision turned red. “You piece of—” He surged forward, but Carl and Dylan held him back.

Tristan suddenly shouted, “Enough!”

The air was thick with tension.

Nathan’s chest heaved. “You’re seriously siding with him?”

Tristan’s hands curled at his sides. “This isn’t your business, Nathan. Back off.”

Nathan’s eyes flashed with disbelief. “Are you serious? He just accused me of trying to steal you, and you’re telling me to back off?”

"I said enough, Nathan stop being unreasonable." Tristan’s voice was firm.

Nathan’s lips curled in disbelief. "Wow. When he was tearing into me, you didn’t tell him to stop. But when I fight back, I’m being ‘unreasonable’?"

Tristan hesitated. "You started this, Nathan. So just stop."

Nathan’s heart clenched. He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

“Got it.” His voice was cold. “I’m sorry for caring. Sorry for trying to warn you. From now on, I’ll stay out of your business.”

He yanked free from Carl and Dylan.

“Nate—” Tristan started.

“Save it.” Nathan’s voice was hollow. “You’ve changed, Tristan.” He exhaled sharply. “And maybe it’s time I change too.”

Without another word, he walked away.

Jersey shot Drake a disgusted look and followed after him. Carl and Dylan exchanged glances before silently walking away too.

Tristan let out a shaky breath. He turned to Drake. “Let’s go home.”

Drake nodded, but the damage was already done.

Tristan and Drake’s Confrontation at Home

The moment they stepped into the house, Tristan exhaled sharply, barely keeping his emotions in check. He turned to Drake, his voice tight with restrained frustration.

“What the hell was that, Drake?” Tristan demanded, his eyes burning with disappointment. “Did you really have to say all that to Nathan? You and I both know that before Nathan developed feelings for me, we were just best friends. Was that really necessary?”

Drake scoffed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the couch. “Oh, so now you're taking his side? Does it change the fact that he had feelings for you? That he wanted you for himself?”

Tristan clenched his fists, his patience slipping. “For f**k’s sake, Drake, he wasn’t trying to take me from you! We weren’t even together back then! And if he really had some master plan to steal me, why would he be the one who told you about my feelings in the first place? Does that sound like someone who wanted to come between us?”

Drake let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “Just stop it, Tristan. If you want to support your precious best friend so badly, then why don’t you just go ahead and date him instead? Maybe that’s what you wanted all along.”

Tristan’s jaw tightened, his chest tightening with hurt and disbelief. “Why the f**k are you bringing that up? Nathan is my best friend, not a f*****g rebound or whatever twisted s**t you’re thinking! But you know what? Since we’re on this topic—who the hell is Calvin?”

Drake froze for a fraction of a second, then scoffed. “What?”

Tristan took a step closer, eyes narrowing. “Don’t play dumb with me. Ever since you got back, you’ve been glued to your phone, and I keep hearing that name. You were talking to him the night you came back too, weren’t you? So tell me, Drake, who the hell is he?”

Drake let out a frustrated sigh. “For f**k’s sake, Tristan, how many times do I have to say it? He’s just a childhood friend! Someone I ran into while I was in London.”

Tristan let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “And what? He’s been the reason you barely pay attention to me? You’ve been ‘catching up’ so much that you can’t even spare me a moment?”

Drake exhaled sharply, already done with the conversation. “I don’t have time for this. I’m going to bed.” Without another glance at Tristan, he turned and walked away, leaving Tristan standing there, his heart twisting painfully.

As he sank onto the couch, his mind replayed Nathan’s pained expression from earlier. The betrayal in his eyes when Tristan took Drake’s side. What the hell was he supposed to do? He was stuck between his best friend and the man he loved—both slipping further and further away from him.

---

Nathan’s Breakdown

Back at home, Nathan stormed into his room, his entire body trembling with rage and heartache. The moment he shut the door, he grabbed his phone and hurled it against the wall, the shattering sound echoing in the silence.

“f**k you, Tristan! f**k your goddamn relationship!” he roared, his voice cracking as fury gave way to something far more painful.

Dylan and Carl rushed into the room, startled by the outburst. “Nate, calm the f**k down!” Dylan said, stepping forward cautiously.

But Nathan wasn’t listening. His breath was ragged, his shoulders shaking violently. Before he knew it, hot tears streamed down his face. “Damn it,” he whispered, voice breaking. He clenched his fists, pressing them against his eyes as if that could stop the hurt from consuming him.

Carl, the closest to him, moved forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Let it out, man,” he murmured. “Just let it go.”

Nathan stood stiff for a moment before he crumbled, gripping Carl’s shirt as silent sobs wracked his body. Dylan watched, jaw clenched, his own heart aching for his friend.

Jersey, leaning against the doorway, exhaled heavily. “Drake was an asshole tonight,” he muttered, his gaze dark. “And we all f*****g know it.”

---

Tristan and Drake’s Distance

Things only got worse from there. Tristan and Drake barely spoke, living under the same roof like strangers. Tristan drove himself to school, went about his day without waiting for Drake, and stopped trying to bridge the growing gap between them.

Meanwhile, Nathan kept his distance too. He used Carl’s phone to let his parents know they could reach him through Carl if necessary. He refused to be anywhere near Tristan, not trusting himself to keep his emotions in check.

Tristan tried. He really did. But Drake remained cold, distant. Whenever Tristan attempted to talk, Drake either brushed him off or wasn’t home at all.

One evening, at 10 PM, Tristan sat anxiously in the living room, staring at the clock. His heart pounded when he finally heard the front door open. Drake walked in, looking exhausted but utterly indifferent.

Tristan shot up from the couch. “Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I’ve been?”

Drake barely spared him a glance as he kicked off his shoes. “Out.”

“With who?” Tristan pressed, frustration laced in his tone.

Drake ran a hand through his hair, sighing impatiently. “My friend’s in town. We went out.”

Tristan’s stomach twisted. He knew the answer before he even asked. “Calvin?”

Drake didn’t respond. Instead, he walked past him, heading straight to their shared bedroom.

Tristan felt the sting of tears in his eyes but swallowed them back. “Drake, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

Drake didn’t even turn around. “I’m tired, Tristan. I’m taking a shower.”

And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Tristan standing alone in the silence of their crumbling relationsh