Pim had never seen Arthur like this.
She'd gone to his apartment after hearing about Nick's dating news, expecting grief, maybe even fury. But what she found was considerably worse.
Arthur was a shell of himself. His typically sharp features were drawn and pale, with circles under his eyes like bruises. His lips were dry and chapped, and his hair was untidy. The apartment, once a mirror of his artistic soul, now seemed abandoned. Empty takeout cartons remained on the table, unopened. Paintings lay against the walls, half-finished, stained with frustration. The air smelled of stale coffee, turpentine, and something deeper—grief.
Pim felt her throat tighten. He's withering away.
She stepped forward slowly, her heart aching.
"Arthur." She placed a loving touch on his shoulder. His skin was frigid beneath her touch.
He didn't react. He just continued staring at the wall, as if expecting it would swallow him whole.
She crouched beside him, trying again. "You need to eat. You need to take care of yourself."
Arthur's lips parted slightly, but no words came out.
Pim's hold on his shoulder intensified. "Arthur, please. Talk to me."
A long, quiet stretch between them before Arthur eventually murmured, "It doesn't matter."
His voice sounded empty, robbed of all the warmth it used to hold.
Pim swallowed hard. "It does. You matter."
Arthur emitted a faint, humorless laugh. "If I mattered, he wouldn't have left."
The words sat thick between them.
Pim clenched her teeth, her claws cutting into her palms. She wanted to scream that none of this was Arthur's fault. That he hadn't done anything wrong. That everything was constructed on a foundation of falsehoods.
But she couldn't.
Because Mia had made her vow to remain quiet
And that promise was eating her alive
The first time she'd felt something was awry was when Mia had started avoiding the topic of Nick and Arthur's breakup. Mia, who was normally the first to voice an opinion, had suddenly gone mute whenever Pim brought it up. At first, Pim assumed it was because Mia was just being prudent, not wanting to pick sides.
But then she overheard a phone conversation.
Mia is talking into her phone late at night, talking about proof, a setup, and Tyler.
Pim had addressed her right then and there, demanding answers. And Mia had finally admitted it.
Tyler had organized the whole thing: the photographs, the setup, and the misunderstanding. Nick had believed the worst, and Arthur had been left to perish in the debris.
Pim had been furious. "We need to tell Arthur."
But Mia had shaken her head. "I can't, not now. I need more proof.
"Why the hell not? "
Mia had looked away. "Because if I do, I'll lose everything."
Pim hadn't understood at first. But then Mia explained—someone in her family was involved. Whether directly or indirectly, Pim didn't know, but Mia was scared of what disclosing the truth might cost her.
"Arthur is dying inside," Pim had hissed. "And you're protecting yourself? "
Mia had tightened her teeth. "It's not that simple."
But it was.
Arthur was struggling. Nick was being played. And Pim—Pim was choosing silence over the truth.
And now, seeing Arthur like this, she loathed herself for it.
Arthur finally blinked and looked at her. "Why are you here, Pim?
She forced a smile. "Because I care about you."
He breathed sharply, shaking his head. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
Pim bit her lip. "You're still Arthur. You're still the guy who paints at sunrise, who eats mango sticky rice when he's anxious, who used to make fun of Nick for always forgetting his umbrella."
Arthur let out a trembling breath, his fingers clenching on the fabric of his shirt.
But suddenly his eyes clouded. "He is dating Mia Pim."
Pim felt her gut twist. Fake relationship or not, it's still killing him.
Arthur's voice cracked. "How do I move on from that? He disrespected our years of relationship and friendship
Her heart tightened. You shouldn't have to because this isn't real.
But she said nothing.
She just reached for his hand, clutching it strongly, silently begging for his forgiveness for a crime he didn't even know she was committing.
Pim couldn't hold it in any longer.
She went straight to Mia's condo
She stormed into Mia's condo, slamming the door behind her.
Mia looked up from her laptop, shocked. "Pim?"
"Enough." Pim's voice shook with barely contained wrath. "I just came from Arthur's apartment."
Mia's face fell. "How is he?
Pim let out a sour laugh. "How do you think he is? He's a wreck, Mia! He's barely eating, scarcely sleeping. He looks like a ghost."
Mia exhaled, rubbing her temples. "I know."
Pim slapped her palms against the desk. "Then do something about it!
Mia flinched. "Pim"
"No more excuses. No more waiting. We have the truth. We know Tyler set him up. We know Nick still loves him."
Mia squeezed her lips together. "It's not that simple."
Pim's voice cracked. "It is that simple! Tell Nick. Tell Arthur. Fix this."
Mia's hands tightened into fists. "You don't understand—"
"Then make me understand! " Pim's voice wavered. "Because all I see is my best friend falling apart while we stand here and do nothing! "
Mia pinched her eyes shut, appearing tormented.
Pim's voice softened, but the wrath still burned behind it. "Mia… Arthur won't survive this much longer."
Mia's breathing hitched.
Silence spread between them.
Then, eventually, Mia muttered, "I'll figure something out."
Pim's hands trembled. "Make it soon."
And then she turned, walking out of the condo, leaving Mia alone with the weight of her decisions.
Arthur didn't have time for regrets.
And neither did they