From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)
Chapter 169: Too Much, Too Loud, Too Me

Chapter 169: Too Much, Too Loud, Too Me

Darcy stood in front of Micah, tense, unmoving, eyes fixed on the boy like he was trying to see through him. Micah’s words echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. The pieces in his head slowly clicked together. The way Micah had acted, the way Leo had appeared out of nowhere asking about him...Micah had probably stumbled on something he shouldn’t have.

Darcy’s chest tightened. His mind, which had been filled with worry and confusion all this time, finally calmed. But only a little. He let out a long breath and dropped his gaze.

"Micah, I can’t always be there to help you..." he said quietly. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t soft either. It was the voice of someone tired, tired and maybe a little scared. "please tone down your mischief."

Micah’s face twisted. He looked up at Darcy, and their eyes met for a second.

Darcy flinched.

There was something in Micah’s eyes that made his throat close up. It wasn’t anger. It was something worse. Raw and quiet. Something like... hurt. Disappointment.

Darcy felt like something heavy dropped in his stomach.

Darcy opened his mouth, trying to fix it, to say something, anything. "Micah..."

"You’re right." Micah cut in, lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "Sorry, I will be more careful. I won’t trouble you again."

Darcy’s eyes widened.

Micah didn’t wait. He turned around quickly. His shoulders were stiff. His steps were fast. Like he couldn’t wait to leave.

Darcy blinked, frozen in place for a second too long. His hands twitched by his side.

"Micah!" he shouted, his voice cracking.

He took a step, then two, rushing after him. "Wait!"

But then, out of nowhere, Micah broke into a run. His back disappeared into the night before Darcy could even blink again. His figure growing smaller, like he was running from something that hurt.

Darcy stopped, feet glued to the sidewalk. He was somewhat stunned. What just happened?

His heart thud in his chest. Micah’s reaction played over and over again in his head. His face. That tight smile. Those eyes.

"Fuck," Darcy muttered under his breath. His hand shot out and slammed into the brick wall next to him. A dull thud followed. Pain shot up his knuckles, but he didn’t care.

Why did Micah look hurt? His words were all because he was worried about him...

He leaned forward and let his forehead rest against his forearm on the wall. His breath was shallow and uneven.

What had he done?

Darcy was angry at himself. Angry he let his feelings cloud his judgment. All he wanted to do was protect Micah. He didn’t even know why Leo being there bothered him so much. He just couldn’t stand the idea of Micah getting dragged into something dangerous. And yet, he had let his emotions speak for him. And now...

He rubbed both hands over his face, dragging his fingers down like he could scrape the regret off somehow.

He didn’t run after Micah, not because he didn’t care. No, he cared too much. That was the problem.

He was scared.

Scared that if he ran after Micah, it would only make things worse. That Micah might run across the street without looking just to escape him. Then a car...

He let out a frustrated growl and kicked the wall this time, his shoes hitting the bricks hard enough to hurt. "Stupid!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

Everything was ruined. Whatever they had...whatever was between them, he had just smashed it to pieces.

Who was he to act like that? Who was he to scold Micah? Who was he to get angry at him because he didn’t explain the reason why he avoided Leo?

He had let his feelings get in the way. That ugly jealousy... had crept in slowly, and then all at once.

He clenched his jaw and looked down at his hands. His fists were trembling. Not from anger anymore, but from something colder. Sadness. Guilt.

He knew he was jealous. Coming here and seeing everyone bowing to Micah made him realise just how far apart they really were. He was at the bottom of society when Micah was at the peak.

He was already unhappy. Then Leo showed up. All successful. Asking about Micah.

And Micah’s strange reaction to him.

It all made him irritated and piled up in his chest until he couldn’t breathe properly. In the end, he lashed out at someone he shouldn’t.

Darcy blinked and turned toward the direction Micah had gone. The street was quiet now. Empty. And it made him feel the same way.

****

Micah ran through the road, not even thinking about where his feet were taking him. His chest burned, not from running, but from something heavier.

Hearing those words from Darcy and the look in his eyes, hurt more than he thought.

He had expected judgment from other people. From strangers. From relatives. From people who barely knew him.

But not Darcy. Not him.

Darcy had always been the exception. The one who didn’t judge. The one who didn’t look at Micah like he was trouble. The one who stuck with him after seeing all his flaws. His first friend.

Until now.

Micah slowed down. His feet dragged. His eyes were burning.

He had all these ridiculous things for Darcy, not because he expected anything back, but because he wanted him to be happy. To be free. To shine.

Not to turn into a puppet. A meek, obedient boy for those twisted male leads.

Yeah, the small part of counterattacking was for himself. But the ending for him was not just those male leads’ fault. It was no one’s fault except fate.

But still, hearing Darcy look at him like a nuisance, a burden, with pure disapproval, stung worse than anything.

Why did it hurt?

He had no right to be upset about it. This life wasn’t even his. It belonged to Darcy. He had been the real one. And Micah? Just the fake.

His whole life people reacted wrong to his feelings. When he got angry, he was unreasonable. When he was sad, they said he was spoiled. Even when he tried to explain, it came out wrong. Loud. Awkward.

He wasn’t arrogant. He just acted before thinking. Speaking words before he could stop himself.

But everyone saw him as selfish.

He thought Darcy was different. He thought Darcy saw him for who he was. That’s why he held on. That’s why he stayed close, even when it stung. Maybe Darcy would understand if he knew everything. But Micah couldn’t even tell him without sounding insane...

But maybe... even Darcy was starting to get tired of him.

No one could tolerate someone like him forever.

Not even Darcy.

Not anymore.

Honk...

A sudden car horn sound woke him up from his daze.

Micah looked up. He didn’t even notice where he had ended up until the flash of headlights and the edge of the curb jolted him. A car passed by.

Micah sighed and glanced around. He spotted a park nearby. A swing creaked in the distance.

Micah walked toward it. His steps were slower now, almost quiet. He sat down on one of the swings and let the chains creak as he swayed gently. His hands gripped the cold metal. He leaned forward slightly, eyes on the patchy grass below.

His emotions had somewhat settled down. He knew he had overreacted to Darcy’s words.

Darcy was innocent. He didn’t know everything. How could he? How could he guess the truth behind why Micah had met Leo? Why was he cross-dressing? Why was he tangled with Leo that night?

He shouldn’t have expectations from Darcy, from someone who didn’t know anything.

But it still hurt. The way Darcy had looked at him. The way he spoke, like Micah was a problem he had to deal with. Like an unreasonable boy causing trouble.

Maybe he was a problem. Maybe he did ask for too much.

Micah looked up at the sky. The stars were faint. Some hidden behind clouds. "I should go back and apologise," he whispered. His voice was soft, dry. "Darcy is probably worried."

He looked down again. A small tired laugh escaped his lips. "I am such a drama queen..." he mumbled to himself, then leaned back a little on the swing.

He felt alone.