shady guy
824 Words
Raffelo was not an easy man to understand.
In fact, he was the kind of person no one could truly read.
Unpredictable. Controlled. And dangerously private.
If someone ever tried to get close to him, he would simply… mislead them. Make them believe what he wanted them to believe.
Because Raffelo had learned very early in life—
That truth was something better hidden.
---
It started when he was thirteen.
His birthday.
A house full of guests, laughter, music—
And chaos behind closed doors.
His parents were fighting.
Not quietly.
Not in a way that could be ignored.
Their voices cut through the walls, sharp and humiliating. Even the loud music couldn’t fully hide the shouting.
Raffelo stood there for a moment.
Then smiled.
Then walked away.
He went into another room, joined his friends, laughed, danced—pretending everything was perfectly fine.
But inside—
He wasn’t fine.
He just didn’t want anyone to know.
So he did what he always did—
He created a distraction.
He ran outside, jumped into the swimming pool, and pretended to drown.
Within seconds, panic spread across the lawn. Guests rushed toward him. The attention shifted.
And just like that—
The noise inside the house disappeared into the background.
He had succeeded.
No one was looking at his family anymore.
---
That was Raffelo.
Even at thirteen—
He knew how to control a situation.
How to redirect attention.
How to hide the truth.
---
A year later—
His father sat him down.
Cold. Direct.
FATHER
“Your mother is involved with someone else. We’re getting divorced.”
Raffelo didn’t react.
Not even a flicker of emotion.
14-year-old Raffelo
“Okay. I have a project to finish.”
And he walked away.
No tears.
No questions.
Nothing.
---
But people noticed.
At home.
At school.
The anger.
The aggression.
The silence.
So they sent him to therapy.
---
But Raffelo didn’t go there to heal.
He went there to learn.
To observe.
To understand people.
Emotions.
Weakness.
Control.
Session after session, he listened more than he spoke.
And when he finally opened up—
It wasn’t vulnerability.
It was strategy.
Because once he understood emotions—
He learned how to manage them.
Not just his own.
But others’.
---
And after that—
He never went back.
Not to therapy.
Not to that version of himself.
---
PRESENT DAY
Caitlin, on the other hand, felt lighter.
After everything she had shared, something inside her had softened.
When she reached her room, her phone buzzed.
A message from Raffelo.
RAFFELO:
“Done being sad?”
CAITLIN:
“Yes… I am. Why did you leave so early?”
RAFFELO:
“So… you wanted me to stay?”
She paused.
CAITLIN:
“I mean… why did you disappear?”
RAFFELO:
“Caitlin, I don’t do chaos. I have standards.”
Her expression changed.
CAITLIN:
Why are you always so insensitive?
RAFFELO:
You wanted something real. I gave it. Don’t question it now.
She called him.
No answer.
His phone was dead.
---
The next morning—
Raffelo checked his phone.
Three messages from Caitlin.
Message 1:
“You were right. I needed a reality check about you.”
Message 2:
“I thought you came for me… but you came to prove that I need you.”
Message 3:
“I don’t need you.”
Raffelo smirked.
Not annoyed.
Not hurt.
Interested.
Because now—
The game had changed.
---
At the office—
He walked straight to his cabin, opened his laptop, and accessed the studio feed.
Caitlin.
Dancing.
But not alone.
Another man stood close to her.
Too close.
Hands guiding her.
Holding her waist.
Their movements in sync—
But something about it didn’t sit right with Raffelo.
He closed the laptop immediately.
And walked out.
---
INT. REHEARSAL ROOM
The music played.
Caitlin danced.
The man beside her followed the rhythm.
Then—
Clapping.
Slow.
Sharp.
Interrupting everything.
Raffelo.
Standing at the door.
RAFFELO (cold smile)
“Very good. Impressive performance.”
Both stopped.
CAITLIN
“Thank you.”
The other man excused himself and left.
Silence filled the room.
---
Raffelo walked in slowly.
RAFFELO
“You like dancing?”
Caitlin looked at him, confused.
CAITLIN
“It’s my profession.”
He nodded.
RAFFELO
“Then do whatever you want.”
He turned to leave.
But Caitlin stopped him.
CAITLIN
“What is your problem?”
He didn’t turn immediately.
Then—
RAFFELO
I don’t have a problem.
A pause.
RAFFELO (low voice)
But now… you do.
Caitlin stepped closer.
Frustrated.
CAITLIN
Stop pushing me away. Just tell me what this is.
He turned.
Looked directly at her.
No mask this time.
RAFFELO
You really want to know?
A beat.
CAITLIN
Yes.
---
And for the first time—
Raffelo didn’t look like a man in control.
He looked like someone about to reveal something he had spent years hiding.
- Writer
