She told Kimi to wait a little longer because Allah knew how much Kyle needed her in that moment, how much he needed his friends.

From where she stood, she watched a grown man fall apart, watched him tear himself to shreds as the warring paths of 'being a man' and being human drew chaos around him like a torch blazing in the midst of bloodshed and battle. His scars were not from a battlefield of failure.

They were the imprints of his insecurities, of his self-doubt. He manifested his wounds by following the rigid plans of an industry that didn't care if his smiles were real or fake, an industry that objectified his body at every chance it got. They didn't care, and he forced himself to fit the mold of perfection, knowing that he chased after an impossible feat, yet still running after it in false hope.

A sob escaped from Kyle as he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered in a heave. "I-I'm so sorry."

Rayan was at his side instantly. "What the fuck is going on, man?" he asked in pure panic. "Do we need to call the doctor? Hold on, we can get help."

Wesley rushed to his phone, but Naira held out a hand, stopping them as she solemnly stared down at the scene before her, chest heavy with the knowledge she knew as Kyle's pain followed her. She felt her chest ache, and she wished more than anything to take his pain away, to tell him that it wasn't his fault for his eating disorder.

But this wasn't her story to tell.

It was his.

"Don't," she choked, warning Wesley. "Let him speak."

A confused Wesley stared deep at her glistening eyes, hand gripping his phone tightly. Lowering his head, he turned back to his friend, falling at his knees as well and arms wrapping around a shaking Kyle. He held him as if he were holding a scared child.

Kyle's sobs ripped out of him, tears streaking his cheeks. He clutched onto Wesley's arm as if holding for his life, for his survival.

"What's going on?" Rayan persisted, fear engulfing him. "Kyle, this isn't a funny prank. What the hell is happening?"

He opened his mouth to speak, yet his cries took control, his body shuddering to the pulsing terror of judgment. She knew the boys would understand Kyle, but his demons refused to settle and continued to grow, digging their claws against an already scarred young man.

Kyle had the perfect male body, ripped and sculpted to perfection, yet he was covered in scars. He was trembling with his distorted sense of perfection, and it was all coming out.

Naira inhaled a deep breath, feeling a sudden cold wrap around her like silk. Elegant and distant, the warmth slipping off as she approached the subject with caution. "It's okay, Kyle," she said in a soft voice, one of motherly concern. "It's all going to be okay."

Hearing her voice, he seemed to quiet down, easing his shaking breaths to match her calmness. HIs brown eyes sought hers desperately, the shell of a child looking to be comforted, to be told that nothing in the world would ever hurt him again. His gaze pleaded with her to save him and she saw them glisten with his unmasked fear.

Naira continued in a steady voice as her heart hammered against her chest. "Please," she begged him. "Don't blame yourself for me overworking. It's all going to be okay. If you believe nothing else, please believe this."

He nodded slowly, taking deep breaths.

"There you go," she coached gently. "I'm right here. Rayan and Wesley are here too, and we won't leave. We won't judge."

Her words, as simple as they were, held weight to them. They were understanding and kind, the type of warmth Kyle needed in his life. She watched his body relax, slowly but surely, and then he straightened, gently pulling away from Wesley as he looked at his friends with an unwavering gaze. He was ready.

"I... I have," he struggled to find the words, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. "God, this is hard. I have an... eating disorder."

He didn't open his eyes, keeping them shut unable to face his internal demons.

"Eating disorder?" whispered Rayan on a choked breath. "Since when?"

His eyes opened, features solemn. "Since our band started."

"For that long?" asked Wesley, incredulous. He gripped Kyle's shoulders. "And you kept this pain to yourself all that time?"

Kyle's eyes were void of the cheerful glow. The sun vanished, hidden by the clouds of his shame. He stared at his friends with a defeated smile, tears slipping past his wet lashes.

Shuddering his breaths, he spoke in a quiet voice. "How could I tell you about darkness when there was only light in our future?"

A stab of pain shot through Naira's heart, lips begging to soothe him, to heal this broken man, but it wasn't Naira's place. This was Kyle unmasked, a side of him that his friends didn't see.

From the looks of it, even Rayan and Wesley were crushed by his confession.

"I-I couldn't..." he trailed off in a hiccup, running a hand down his temple. "Fuck. I'm such a fucking mess. I don't... I don't deserve to be here."

Rayan's head jolted towards his friend. "What the hell are you talking about?" he practically shouted in a tone that made Naira wince. He stalked towards Kyle with his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "You fucking idiot. Don't you know that we're friends? Our friendship comes before this band. You think we're so damn shallow that we would let our friend, our brother, wallow in his despair instead of helping him?"

Wesley touched Rayan's shoulder gently. "Don't start this," he said in a calm voice. "We shouldn't yell."

Rayan shook his hand off. "He was killing himself slowly," he whispered to himself. "Right in front of us, and we didn't notice, so don't you fucking dare tell me to calm down."

"What is yelling going to accomplish?" argued Wesley as he shook his head. "At least he told us now."

Rayan wasn't listening to reason. Hell, he was so far in the depths of his fury, she was sure he only saw red in his vision. Underneath the erupting flames was a hurt friend who only wanted the best for Kyle.

"What if we found out too late, Wesley?" he questioned harshly. "What if Kyle was sent to the hospital without us knowing a damn thing about his health because we were too focused on ourselves to care."

Kyle shook his head in denial. "That's not true. I didn't keep it from you because I thought you two were emotionless."

"Then why did you?" fired Rayan.

He averted his gaze once more, staring down at his shoes. "I kept it a secret because I didn't want to burden you guys," whispered Kyle. "We had just started the band, making the biggest move of our lives. Modeling was supposed to make us more popular, and after all the work we did to get our contracts, I didn't want to be another worry on your list."

His words hung in the air, a tension rising from the depths of the earth. A blinding gaze of heat engulfed them, the flames of anger dissipating in fumes of an extinguished flare. The truth held a calming effect and the void they all felt began to fill just like the days before the industry stole their souls.

"Please say something," whispered Kyle, voice faint.

Quiet hung like a sign. No one dared to move, dared to speak the words their lips begged to tell. So many stories were written across their gazes, so many unspoken truths that needed an audience. Without realizing, Naira stepped forward, her determination getting the best of her.

"All this time," she began as she glanced around the room, "you were all protecting each other. You all held your burdens to yourself, kept suffering in silence. You believed that if you could shoulder the pain of the public eye, then you could keep the smiles of your friends. Just this once, speak what you feel. Confide in each other."

"But-" Kyle began to say.

Naira shot him a look. "Who else will understand your qualms better than your band? I can try my hardest, but the truth is I'm not in the industry. I didn't make a career out of being scrutinized by every troll and fangirl on the internet. I can only understand a fraction of what you endure."

As she was speaking, she noticed the blank expression on Rayan's visage, the way the shadows of the room crossed over the hard bridge of his nose. His mocha skin was absent of the warmth that usually brought butterflies to her stomach, and his eyes were as cold as glaciers.

He was in denial, and he hated himself for it.

As if confirming her thoughts, Rayan stalked towards the door. "I need to step out for a bit," he said in a gruff voice, shutting the door behind him as the thump echoed throughout the room.

Out of all the uncertainty that hovered over the Red Knights, one thing was for sure. Naira planted a seed. All she had to do was wait for the sprouts to grow.

----

You know what's not fair?

When anime men *cough cough* Sk8 the Infinity *cough cough* are so damn attractive and funny and basically a 10/10. IT'S JUST SO EASY TO SHIP THEM WITH ALL THE BROMANCES.

Another reason why I pride myself in my bromance character ships :D

Speaking of which, don't hate on Red Knights just yet. They got some stuff to work through and this is pretty heavy for a band.

Where do you think Rayan went?

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