There were so many things Slater was grateful for. He had a loving and supportive family who would accept him no matter how unreasonable he could be. The people around him often cheered him up and believed in him.
Slater had a good career; his album had just hit the charts, and people wanted him for many reasons. His fans almost worshipped him, probably singing his songs while taking a bath, studying, or just singing them for no reason at all.
There was so much that could keep Slater going—so many good things. From another person’s perspective, he was living the life. He should be happy. He had everything one would wish for and pray for.
But why did he feel so empty?
Was it because he was ungrateful? Was he just focusing on the wrong things? Or was it the lack of spark in his creativity? Or perhaps it was the nightmare that kept haunting him in his sleep?
To be honest, Slater had no idea.
All he knew was that the more he tried to fight it, the heavier this emptiness felt. It was strange how emptiness could take up so much space in his heart, making him even more determined to fill it with sothing—anything.
Even if that sothing was him disappearing.
Perhaps that would ease his mind.
What Slater didn’t know was that sotis emptiness was just like the moon. One has to experience complete emptiness to be full again.
As the water slowly robbed him of his breath and strength, Slater surrendered himself to the end that everyone must face when the ti was right. He might have surrendered too early, but he didn’t feel any regret.
If anything, for the first ti in a long ti, he felt peace.
And as this peace slowly enveloped him, taking him to a place of solace, mories he never had surged within him like a flood. They reminded him of the remnants of nightmares he had endured since the start of this long and lonely journey.
"Slater! Slater! Shit, shit, shit! Please... Slater, co on!"
Slater heard this distant distress call, feeling sothing pound in his chest.
"Slater! Co on, man!" Jas, who was performing CPR on Slater, was in tears. He had already called for help, but until then, he wanted to do sothing.
Monts ago, Jas walked into the bathroom, only to see Slater drowning in the tub. Seeing the empty bottle of wine on the floor, he was confused about whether this was intentional or not. However, he knew sothing was wrong.
Slater wouldn’t just give gifts like that. Not that Slater was not generous, but this was too abrupt. Moreover, Jas had noticed that Slater had been quieter than usual and seed preoccupied.
So, after dropping Slater off, Jas decided to go back and check on him. After all, before Jas beca Slater’s manager, they were friends. Who would have thought this was what he would walk in on?
"Slater—" Jas’s call halted when Slater coughed up water before rolling onto his side. "Oh, my God..."
Slater coughed up more water as Jas felt his entire body drop. Before he knew it, he slumped onto the bathroom floor, his face ashen, his eyes fixed on Slater. Fear and relief swelled in his chest as he rested his back against the wall.
"Oh, God..." Jas breathed out, his eyes shining with bitterness and distress.
*****
Right after Jas was able to revive Slater, the paradics arrived at his place. They helped both Slater and Jas, but Slater insisted on staying. Barely conscious, he begged Jas to let him stay. For Slater’s sake, Jas asked the paradics to treat Slater there, with the condition that they would call for a doctor. The paradics agreed.
"Goodness..." Jas sat in the room, gazing at Slater in the bed. "He’s gonna be the death of for sure."
He buried his face in his palms in distress. The doctors had already left after prescribing so dicine and inserting an IV into Slater. They told him that it was good Jas found Slater because if he hadn’t, the nation would have been mourning the loss of an angel.
"Just what is wrong?" Jas wondered, casting Slater a look. "I just can’t understand."
Perhaps Jas would never understand what Slater had been going through. After all, everything was going well, and everything seed to be in their favor.
Why would Slater do this?
Why didn’t he say sothing to Jas?
If Slater was tired, he knew he could always tell Jas. It wasn’t like Jas was the actual boss here. Even though Jas was the president of the company, Slater still had the final say over his schedule. However, Slater never ddled with that and just let Jas do his job as his manager.
The point was, if only Slater had asked for a break, Jas would have given it to him without question.
"Mhm."
Jas’s muddled thoughts halted when he heard a faint grunt from the bed. He quickly rose from his seat, rushing to Slater’s side.
"Slater?" he called, only to see Slater furrowing his brows while moving his head sideways. "Slater, are you okay? What’s going on, man? Hey!"
Slater winced in his sleep, clutching the sheet over him while letting out a grunt. Seeing this, Jas panicked and quickly reached for his phone. The doctor had already left, but Jas was determined to call a nurse to look after Slater.
But just as Jas clumsily searched for the number, he froze. Slowly, he moved his wide gaze back to the bed, only to see Slater staring at the ceiling. Slater just laid there frozen, barely blinking.
"Slater...?" he blurted out under his breath, catching a tear rolling down Slater’s temple. His mouth opened and closed, catching the pain in Slater’s eyes as the tear continued to fall. But before he could speak again or call for the nurse, Slater whispered.
"How...?" Slater’s breath hitched, grinding his teeth, as if choking in his own breathing. "... can she foolishly forgive us?"
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