From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 146: Not Drunk, Just Lonely

Chapter 146: Not Drunk, Just Lonely

Sometime later, after assistant Ford finished wrapping up his hand, Aidan was finally alone again. The apartment had fallen into a heavy silence. The soft hum of the city came through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall that looked out over the skyline.

Aidan stood there, motionless, staring at the city lights. His right hand throbbed, wrapped in thick white bandages, a reminder of the glass he had crushed earlier. It stopped bleeding, but the pain was still there, full and stubborn.

He raised his left hand and picked up his phone from the table nearby. His thumb hovered over the screen, ready to type, then stopped. He tried again. Using his non-dominant hand felt clumsy, the movement stiff and frustrating. His thumb slipped, tapping the wrong letters. Annoyed, he let out a short dry laugh and hit the voice message button instead.

Holding his phone up, he spoke with a relaxed tone.

AAA: "Hey, are you awake?"

Micah, on the other hand, lay on his side in bed, one arm curled under his pillow, blanket halfway down. He stared at the ceiling with a frown, shifting and twisting every few minutes like the mattress was made of stone. Sleep just wouldn’t come. He turned into his back and groaned into the darkness. The screen of his phone lit up. Micah reached out and picked it up from the nightstand. His brows lifted when he saw the sender.

Micah paused. Right, that guy with the deformed car roof. It had been a while since they last chatted. Maybe a little teasing would take his mind off things. Might help him sleep too.

He pressed play on the voice message. A husky tone, low and smug spread through the quiet room.

AAA (voice message): "Hey, are you awake?"

Micah shivered, lips twitching. He started typing.

RogueOverlord: What’s it at this hour? Got dumped?

AAA (VM): "Why don’t you talk? Afraid I’ll mock your high-pitched voice? That’s okay, you are at an age where hormones still do weird things."

Micah blinked. Then he chuckled under his breath.

RogueOverlord: wow, are you calling me a kid, old man?

A moment passed before the next voice message came in.

AAA (VM): "You have seen me. What part of me looks old?"

Micah paused. Well, he was right. The guy had a damn good face and a better body. High quality, no question. But his personality? Ugh.

RogueOverlord: Bragging about yourself? Tsk, tsk...A good wine needs no bush.

AAA (VM): What? Do you want to try it?

As soon as Micah heard the voice message, goosebumps ran down his arms. He yelped and threw the phone across the bed like it burned him. It landed near the pillows. He sat up quickly, rubbing his arms with both hands.

"Shit!" he cursed, shivering. "Is he crazy? Narcissistic prick!"

He took several breaths before picking up his phone. Micah typed furiously.

RogueOverlord: I think you had too much to drink. Don’t text me. Or I’ll block you.

Micah sent it annoyed. Why was he even engaging with this guy?

He knew he had become sensitive after that post. He didn’t have anything against homosexuality, but these past days were like a nightmare. He didn’t want another reminder of that.

His gaze shifted to Clyde’s chat icon. He didn’t have any contact with him since that night. Micah had lost his temper on him, he regretted it, kind of. But strangely he felt the man didn’t seem upset. More like amused. Which was even worse.

Most people got grossed out by Micah when he acted like himself, immature, loud and dramatic. They rolled their eyes, called him annoying, and told him to grow up.

But Clyde hadn’t. Not once.

Darcy was the only one who had been patient with him and Micah knew he would, like in the novel. Darcy even could smile at those horrible male leads, why not to him who was just a brat compared to them?

But Clyde tolerated him patiently. A man everyone else clearly feared. Even his friend Lin Heye was careful around the man.

Micah pursed his lips. He stared at the chat box, tempted to type something. But he stopped himself.

He would see him this Sunday, probably. Lin Heye’s father had a small clinic beside their restaurant. If Clyde showed up, he would give the design drafts to him, if not, he would hand them to Lin Heye to deliver them to Clyde.

That was the plan. Less contact.

The last thing he needed was to fall deeper into whatever this mess was. That ridiculous post had already ruined enough for him. And now even his sketches... they kept turning into designs that would look amazing on Clyde.

Every time he picked up a pencil, it would end up like that without realising it.

It needed to stop.

He was afraid that seeing Clyde too often would just make things worse. He needed space from Clyde, and from whatever these feelings were becoming.

A new message buzzed in. Micah frowned. He hesitated to play it at first. He converted to text and looked at it from the corner of his eye.

AAA: (text converted) Did I scare you? Sorry, that wasn’t my intention. I’m not drunk... just a bit lonely. Chatting with you lightened my mood. Thanks for your help.

When he saw it was just normal words, he sighed and clicked on it.

This time, the man’s voice had lost all its arrogance. There was even a hint of vulnerability in it.

Micah was stunned. His expression softened. Yeah. He was not the only one with difficulties. Everyone was going through something. If his chatting could help someone, he wasn’t that stingy to uphold it.

RogueOverlord: Then behave.

AAA (VM): Sure. I do as you say.

RogueOverlord: What’s the problem?? You could tell me. Maybe I can help you.

Micah offered despite knowing it was a wrong move. But he wanted to chat with someone completely outside his life. Someone who didn’t know who he was.

AAA (VM): I cut my hand. Sorry, I can just send voice messages.

RogueOverlord: I thought you were just lazy! Is it that bad you can’t type?

AAA (VM): Yeah. A glass broke in my right hand.

Aidan said that, looking at the blood-soaked bandages on his hand. The pain had gone numb, especially after chatting with the boy.

He was ready to bend, to act like a victim, to gain his sympathy to talk to him.

He preferred to hear his voice. But the boy was vigilant like always. Well, there would be more opportunities in the future.

He poked at his injured hand with his finger, just enough to feel the sting again.

He let out a sharp hiss right at the start of his next voice message.

AAA (VM): "Hiss, I can’t even move it..."

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