chapter 2

Keyden

“Hey man, free tonight?”

Myles’ voice came through my phone just as I was struggling to close an overstuffed box.

“Nah,” I replied, pushing down on the lid. “Still got a lot of packing to do.”

He chuckled softly. “Aww… I’m gonna miss you.”

I shook my head, even though he couldn’t see me. “Seriously, man… this is all messed up.”

There was a short pause. “What?” he asked, his tone shifting.

I sighed, dropping the box and sitting on the edge of my bed. My room looked like a storm had passed through it—clothes everywhere, half-empty drawers, memories scattered in every corner.

“Everything,” I said. “This move… my dad… Manchester. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Key,” Myles said calmly, “I know your old man is doing this for his own reasons, but you can’t keep living like this.”

I frowned. “Like what?”

“Like you don’t care,” he said. “Like life is just parties, girls, and waiting for trust funds. You’re better than that, man.”

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. His words hit harder than I expected because deep down, I knew he was right.

“Look,” he continued, “maybe Manchester isn’t such a bad thing. At least you’ll be away from your dad’s control for once.”

I let out a slow breath. “It’s not just that. You know why he’s sending me there.”

Myles went quiet for a second, then let out a small laugh. “What, he still thinks you and… him should reconnect?”

“Not funny,” I muttered, rubbing my face.

“Alright, alright,” he said. “But don’t you miss him? It’s been, what… 17 years?”

“19,” I corrected sharply. “It’s been 19 years since he left.”

The memory still stung. I didn’t like thinking about it, but somehow this move was dragging everything back up again.

“Damn,” Myles said. “That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t tell me you still have feelings for your ex-stepbrother?”

I sat up quickly. “I don’t,” I said, a little too fast. Then I sighed. “And it’s ex-stepbrother. They’ve been divorced for years.”

Myles laughed. “Sure, man. Keep telling yourself that.”

I smirked despite myself. “I’m serious.”

“Okay,” he said, clearly not convinced. “But you still think he’s hot though, right?”

I hesitated, then shook my head with a small laugh. “I mean… yeah. He is. Probably hotter now.”

Myles burst out laughing. “I knew it!”

“Shut up,” I said, smiling.

“I don’t blame you though,” he added. “If he aged well, then yeah… I get it.”

I ran a hand through my hair, my thoughts drifting. Everything about this situation felt unreal. Going to Manchester, seeing him again after nearly two decades… it didn’t make sense.

“But seriously,” Myles said, breaking my thoughts, “how are you even planning to approach him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted honestly. “I just have to figure something out when I get there. My dad wants me to get him to invest in the business, so… I’ll try whatever works.”

“Man,” Myles said softly, “that sounds stressful.”

“It is,” I replied.

There was a moment of silence between us—one of those quiet moments where you don’t need to say much because everything is already understood.

“I’m really gonna miss you,” he said finally. “New York won’t be the same without you.”

I smiled faintly. “Same here. I’ll miss you too… and yeah, I’ll miss New York. The vibe, the people…”

“The girls,” he added quickly.

I laughed. “Yeah, that too. The girls and their fine selves.”

Myles chuckled. “Relax, I heard Manchester has its own share of fine people.”

“Then I guess life won’t be boring,” I said playfully.

“When’s your flight again?”

“3 p.m.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll come see you off.”

“Thanks, man.”

I stood up, looking around my messy room again. “I better finish packing.”

“Yeah. Get some sleep too. Big day tomorrow.”

“Good night, bro.”

“Night.”

The call ended, leaving the room quiet again.

I stood there for a moment, just breathing. Tomorrow, everything would change. Whether I liked it or not.

The Next Day

The airport was already buzzing when we arrived.

People rushed past in every direction—families, couples, business travelers—all moving with purpose. Announcements echoed overhead, and the sound of rolling suitcases filled the air.

Myles walked beside me, unusually quiet.

“So… this is it,” he said after a while.

“Yeah,” I replied, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

We stopped near the departure gate. I looked around, taking it all in—the noise, the lights, the constant movement. It felt strange knowing I was leaving all of this behind.

“Crazy,” Myles muttered.

“Very.”

He turned to me, his expression serious. “Take care of yourself, alright? And don’t let your dad control everything you do over there.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“And don’t fall too hard for your ex-stepbrother again,” he added with a grin.

I rolled my eyes. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

We both laughed, but the moment felt heavy underneath it.

Then he pulled me into a quick hug. “I mean it though. I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

“I know,” I said quietly.

They called my flight.

I pulled away, grabbing my luggage. “That’s me.”

“Text me when you land.”

“I will.”

I gave him one last look before turning toward the gate.

Each step felt heavier than the last, but I didn’t stop.

No turning back.

On the plane, I got a window seat.

As the engines roared to life, I stared outside, watching the runway stretch endlessly ahead.

Then, slowly, the plane lifted.

New York began to shrink beneath me—the buildings, the streets, everything becoming smaller and smaller until it was just a blur of lights.

I leaned back in my seat, exhaling deeply.

This was really happening.

I closed my eyes, letting my thoughts drift.

Manchester.

A new city. A new life.

And him.

After 19 years, I was going to see him again.

I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know how I would feel.

All I knew was that nothing would be the same.

The plane climbed higher into the sky, carrying me toward a future I wasn’t ready for… but one I couldn’t escape.

And maybe, just maybe, this fresh start was exactly what I needed.

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