Connor's calmness was downright unsettling. Lucas hadn't even realized there was a rooftop here, and when he reached it, he found it completely empty. It wasn’t even winter, yet a chill wrapped around him.
The moment the door clicked shut, Connor launched into action without a word. His fist connected squarely with Lucas's face, knocking him to the ground before he could even react. Blood trickled from the corner of Lucas's mouth.
"Connor, what's your problem?" Lucas spat, trying to get back on his feet. But Connor wasn’t done. He came at Lucas again, fists and feet flying with no mercy. In no time, Lucas was curled up on the floor, unable to utter a word.
Having vented his fury, Connor finally seemed to snap back to reality. He stood by the balcony, lighting a cigarette. Behind him, Lucas lay still, barely moving.
Lucas had always known Connor as someone who never forgot a slight. So when Connor appeared, Lucas's gut instinct was fear. But Connor's calm demeanor was misleading; he turned out to be a cool-headed maniac, waiting patiently for Lucas.
Without asking a single question, Connor had beaten Lucas to a pulp. Now, Connor stood at the balcony's edge, his hands smeared with blood, yet he seemed entirely unfazed. He lit a cigarette, his back to Lucas, and stared straight ahead at Disneyland, its dreamy, fairytale allure stretching before him. A slow smile crept onto his face, deepening with a glimmer of tears. "Chloe, I’ve finally found you," he murmured.
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