Mylo pulled his trembling fingers away from the smooth glass of the mirror.
His breath hitched. A ragged, uneven sound in the dead silence of the room.
Five years. He was back five years in the past.
He spun around, his eyes darting frantically across the space. It was unfamiliar, yet intimately recognizable.
His gaze landed on the pristine wooden study table in the corner.
Laid out neatly across the surface were brand-new textbooks, notebooks with unbroken spines, and slick university brochures.
The State University of Mirage.
The realization hit him like a physical blow. It knocked the remaining air right out of his lungs.
He wasn't just back. He was back right before it all started.
Before the hell.
Before the rumors.
Before the teachers used him as a human venting machine.
Before the framed drug charges systematically destroyed his entire existence.
"Mylo? Honey, are you alright in there?"
A soft voice called out from the other side of the door. "We heard a loud noise, son. Did something drop?"
That voice...Those voices..
Mylo's heart didn't just beat; it violently slammed against his ribs. The dam inside his chest shattered completely.
Five years of accumulated agony, sleepless nights, and the devastating memory of his mother being taken away from him came crashing down.
The door swung open.
There she stood.
His mother.
Her face was smooth, lacking the heavy lines of stress and sickness that would later claim her life. Her black hair tied in a bun.
Behind her, his father stepped into the frame. His expression was stern, but his eyes were laced with immediate, genuine worry.
"Mylo, you're drenched in sweat, oh my goodness!" Before his mother could even finish her sentence, Mylo lunged forward.
He threw his arms around her neck. He buried his face deep into her shoulder, gripping her fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white.
A choked, violent sob tore from his throat.
An uncontrollable torrent of tears followed.
"Mom... Mom, I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." he cried in his mother's arms. His voice cracked under the weight of a lifetime of regrets.
"Mylo! What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"
His mother's voice panicked. Her hands instantly wrapped around his shaking back, rocking him gently.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry... His mind began and ended with that thought.
"Let me look at you, Mylo. Did you fall?"
His father closed the distance. His heavy, calloused hand rested firmly on Mylo's shoulder.
That touch. In his past life, Mylo had spent years dreading and resenting it.
Now? It felt like the only anchor keeping him from drifting back into the crimson abyss of hell.
"Talk to us, Mylo. What is it? Is it college? Are you feeling sick?" his father asked. The usual strictness in his voice completely melted away. Only a dad's raw, protective instinct remained.
Mylo didn't see a disappointed judge in his father's eyes.
He just saw a parent who cared. It was an all too familiar face.
How much have I missed it?
I don't want you to look that worried...but I can't help but feel happy seeing it..
He reached out, pulling his father into the tight embrace as well.
The three of them stood locked together in the center of his room.
The sheer warmth of their bodies washed over Mylo. It melted the icy chill that Lilithia's neon-pink fire had left in his soul.
I love them. I love them so much.
Mylo squeezed his eyes shut as his tears soaked his mother's shirt.
I was such a coward. I blamed them. I lied to them. But they're here. They're alive!
"I really love you guys," Mylo choked out, the words raw and unprompted. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry I've been so difficult to deal with."
His father let out a heavy breath. His grip tightened around Mylo's shoulders.
"What are you talking about, foolish boy? You haven't been difficult," his father chided softly, his own eyes glistening. "We know it's a big step. And we love you too. More than you know."
"We love you so much, Mylo. You are our whole world," his mother whispered, kissing the side of his head.
After what felt like an eternity, the crying subsided into a quiet, comfortable warmth.
His parents were originally supposed to head straight to the airport. They had only come to secure this rented apartment for his upcoming college semester.
But looking at their emotional son, they hesitated.
"Maybe we should change the flight tickets," his mother said, looking up at her husband.
"We can stay a few more days. Just until he gets used to his classes."
"Yes, I think that's a good idea. The office can wait. Your mother and I can stay right here with you," his father agreed instantly, nodding his head.
Sitting on the sofa, in the modest living room, between his parents, Mylo offered them a fragile, reassuring smile. He wiped his face with the back of his hand.
"No, it's okay, Dad. Mom, really, you don't have to," Mylo said, trying to steady his voice.
"Are you sure, honey? You look like you've seen a ghost," his mother said, rubbing his arm.
"I'm sure. I'm sorry for worrying you both. It's just... I got scared suddenly. It's 2022. Prior to this, we lived together for so long because of COVID. I never left the house."
He looked down at his lap, even though he was 5 years older than his body, his actions were not that different from his younger self. His parents not finding too much of a difference was proof of it.
"Now, it's my first time completely leaving your side. I think the reality of being alone just hit me all at once."
His mother smiled softly, her heart melting. She wiped a stray tear from his cheek.
"Oh, my sweet boy. It's completely okay to be scared. But you're going to do great things here. You are smart, and we believe in you."
She gave him another kiss on the forehead, the number of kisses entered double digit.
"Your mother is right," his father added, agreeing with his wife's worry.
''Listen, it's alright to feel overwhelmed, you are going to be in a different environment. We are always here with you, you just have to keep moving forward,we will take care of everything else."
"I understand, Dad. Thank you."
Their family exchange continued, it was a first of its kind that Mylo had but it wasn't going to be the only one. He will make sure of it.
Four hours later, in the bright, sweltering heat of the afternoon, Mylo stood at the terminal.
He watched his parents wave goodbye one last time before disappearing into the boarding gates.
"Call us the moment you get back to the room!" his mother shouted over the crowd.
"Study hard, but take care of your health first!" his father yelled, giving a rare, proud thumbs-up.
Mylo nodded, waving back until they were completely gone.
The moment they vanished from his sight, the soft, emotional warmth completely drained from Mylo's face.
Placed on it was a little determined look, a little scared look, and a little happier look.
He turned on his heel and rushed back to his apartment. Not knowing that his parents had a few of their own ideas.