Dorian''s phone rang non-stop. He frowned in annoyance and silenced it by switching it to mute.


    He had no time to deal with Zara right now. He refused to believe that L would smash the charm she''d hung for him. The reporters were just a bunch of bastards enjoying the chaos!


    Now, he would prove to all of them just how important he was to L. With that thought in mind, he rushed toward the mountain without bothering to wear his mask.


    Mount Shasta had a cable car that went halfway up, but the second half required climbing the steps on foot. He dialed L''s number repeatedly as he ascended, but the line was always busy. It was a clear sign that he had been blocked.


    He tried reaching her through WhatsApp but failed, so he unwillingly pocketed his phone.


    The summit seemed so close, yet he was already drenched in sweat. His legs ached and throbbed with pain.


    He''d taken off his zer and found it too troublesome to hold, so he tossed it by the side of the path. Ity among discarded trash left behind by other inconsiderate visitors and was an eyesore amidst the natural scenery.


    Dorian''s shirt was soaked, and his tie was loose and dangling. His meticulously styled hair from the morning was now a disheveled mess from the sweat and mountain breeze.


    Droplets of sweat dripped from his face and left imprints on the steps before evaporating away.


    Despite the scorching mid-day sun and theborious hike, Dorian felt a cold chill in his chest. It crept up his veins, spreading to every part of his body.


    He pushed himself forward in a blur, and the steep stone steps seemed to narrow before his eyes. As his vision clouded from sweat-or perhaps the spinning in his head he lost his footing.


    Nearby tourists gasped in shock. Some stepped forward to help, but another man was quick enough to hold Dorian back.


    The man was dressed in simple clothes with hair tousled by the wind. He had a travel-worn appearance.


    Dorian was jolted by the sudden incident and immediately felt his dizziness subside.


    "Thanks," he muttered before lowering his head to advance forward. His throat felt raw as if scrubbed with sandpaper, and it felt like he might cough up blood at any moment.


    Having heard the news, Terry made his way up the mountain, skipping steps as he ran to get to Dorian''s side.


    Having finally caught sight of him, Terry slowed to a jog.


    "Dorian, why are you doing this to yourself?" Terry frowned and couldn''t


    understand Dorian''s self-destructive behavior. Though he''d vowed not to interfere,


    he couldn''t harden his heart any longer after hearing the news.


    Dorian looked up with a pale face and clenched his fists to suppress his emotions. "Are you here to tell me that L doesn''t love me anymore?"


    Terry frowned and didn''t know how to respond, but his silence spoke of the answer. Dorian gave a bitterugh and shook off Terry''s hand. Then, he marched ahead.


    "You know L well enough. I''ve warned you before it got to this point. She doesn''t love you anymore, so it won''t matter even if you do this to yourself or die in front of her. What''s the point?" Terry asked behind him.


    Dorian froze at Terry''s words. Yet, he refused to turn around and continued his climb. He didn''t believe in anyone else''s words. Hell, he wouldn''t believe it even if L said it herself. How could she just stop loving him?


    Terry nced back at the reporters who''d followed them up and snapped, "Haven''t you had enough?"


    Though Dorian had brought this upon himself, Terry couldn''t just stand by and watch. The sight of those bloodshot, stubborn, and nearly desperate eyes of Dorian made his head ache with frustration.


    He caught up to Dorian and offered his friend a bottle of water. "If you''re gonna do it, make sure you at least get there in one piece."


    Dorian''s breath was shaky, and his trembling hands couldn''t even open the bottle that had always been effortless for him.


    Terry had never seen him so out of control. The wrinkled shirt, crooked tie, unruly hair, and terrifying red eyes were signs of a man on the verge of despair.


    Dorian''s wretched look was no different from a beggar''s. Perhaps he was, in a way, a beggar vying for L''s love.


    Terry opened the bottle for him and was torn between pity and exasperation. Dorian downed the entire bottle in one go and still felt barely alive.


    He looked up at the mountain summit, and his eyes stung with unfallen tears. He wondered how much pain L must''ve endured toe here if climbing had drained him this much.


    What had she been thinking back then?