From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 213: Final Round: Jealousy

Micah returned to his seat slowly, dragging his feet like they weighed a ton. He slumped into the chair next to Darcy, arms stretched out beside himself like overcooked noodles. He stared blankly at the ceiling, lifeless.

Darcy cracked open one eye, barely lifting his head from where he had been lounging with his arms behind it. "What happened?" he asked, blinking lazily. "Why are you so down?"

Micah puffed a little air, eyes blank. "We are imprisoned here. I knew I shouldn’t have come. Archie’s team is just... trouble. Even their fans are maniacs! Seriously, do they not have anything better to do than scream and block the door?"

Darcy turned his head more fully now, raising an eyebrow. "So why did you come?" he asked, voice calm but with a little smirk forming. "Wasn’t it because you wanted to kill that rumour going around? Huh? What happened to that? And now you are hiding instead?"

Micah squinted at him and waved a hand dismissively. "Nah. That ship sailed long ago. Forget the rumours. I came because of you. Didn’t you say you wanted to participate?"

Darcy smiled, satisfied and a little smug. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

Micah shrugged like it was nothing. He began to spin the chair a little.

Darcy stayed silent. From the corner of his eye, his gaze flicked past Micah and caught sight of Archie’s back, standing stiff and still several rows ahead. Darcy’s smile widened, faint but victorious.

Good.

Let Archie hear.

Let him know Micah hadn’t come here for him. He hadn’t come here to chase some old rumour, or to be near Archie, or for the stupid bet that got blown up all over the forums. No. He had come for Darcy.

Let that sink in.

It was better to kill whatever Archie was feeling for Micah sooner rather than later.

Meanwhile, Archie’s expression had gone dark, stormy. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on their conversation. He didn’t want to. But the voices, Micah’s voice floated through the air, filling his ears before he could block them out.

Micah...

Micah had come for Darcy. Not him.

Not the bet.

Not even for damage control.

For Darcy.

Archie stared blankly at the wall, trying to shut off the words, but they looped over and over. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest, but it wasn’t panic. It was something heavier. Hotter. A tight, burning thing inside him that clawed at his ribs.

He wanted to destroy Darcy.

Archie felt something dark and deep begin to consume him from inside.

He wanted to break that smug little smile off Darcy’s face. Make him disappear from Micah’s life completely.

Micah was supposed to have that connection with him. That closeness... it should have been theirs.

Archie had always been good at one thing: gaming. No one could top him. No one dared to try.

Why should another person appear on par with him? Why was he getting Micah’s attention, his friendship, his smiles and casual touches?

Archie was sure Micah’s attention on Darcy was because of DarkVyne’s influence. Micah had been famous as that trashy account. The one who died minutes after the match began. If Archie had met him first, if he had carried him in the game, would Micah have looked at him that way?

A storm was brewing inside his mind and heart. He clenched his jaw.

He started walking, stiff and quick, toward the exit. He shoved his hand into his pockets, his head down. He hadn’t smoked in months. But right now, he needed something, anything, to clear the storm in his chest.

Somewhere deep inside him, Archie knew if Micah saw him right now or knew his thoughts, it would be game over for him.

But before he could reach the door, a loud voice rang out across the room.

"Archie!"

Archie stiffened in his place, his back to Micah. That voice, it was Micah’s.

Micah was spinning in his chair like a hyperactive child who couldn’t sit still when he spotted Archie making a break for the exit. Micah’s eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t right. Didn’t Russell say they wouldn’t go out because of the crowds?

Was this Archie’s new trick? What if he talked to fans about Darcy being DarkVyne? Or said something about the bet? What if he claimed Micah was their new recruit?

No, he couldn’t let that happen.

His chair squeaked loudly under him as he pushed himself to his feet with a burst of movement.

Darcy turned his head too late. "Micah..." he called out, standing halfway. But Micah was already gone. fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

Micah jogged over and reached Archie in a few strides.

"Archie!" Micah yelled, drawing attention from others. "Hey, where are you going? Aren’t fans still outside?"

Archie didn’t answer. He stayed facing forward, shoulders hunched.

Micah frowned and leaned sideways, trying to catch his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Micah’s brows knit together. Something in Archie’s expression was off, tight, unreadable, like he was at the end of his rope. "Man, what happened to you? Come here," He grabbed Archie’s wrist firmly. "Let’s go to the restroom."

Archie didn’t resist. He moved like a block of wood, stiff and unsure, letting Micah lead him even though he had no idea how to manage his expression. He felt like one wrong word, and he would ruin everything.

Micah’s grip tightened just slightly as he led them past rows of chairs and down a quiet corner.

Behind them, Darcy had stepped forward, ready to follow, but someone stepped into his path.

"Hey," Elijah said smoothly, eyes flicking to where Micah and Archie had just disappeared. "I know we just met, but what do you think about joining us?"

Darcy’s jaw twitched. He tried to step around, but another guy appeared, then another. The rest of Archie’s team had circled in casually, forming a loose wall.

Darcy’s expression turned dark. He hadn’t expected his earlier conversation with Micah to bite him this quickly.

Inside the restroom, Micah marched Archie straight to the sink. He turned the tap full blast and let cold water gush out. Without warning, he scooped a handful and splashed it straight at Archie’s face.

Archie flinched backward, blinking rapidly, water dripping down his cheeks and chin.

"What the hell..." he muttered under his breath, still too dazed.

Micah didn’t back off. "Snap out of it, alright? I don’t know what’s going on, but you can’t let that mess with your head before the final."

Archie stared at him, his green eyes wide and searching.

Micah looked... concerned.

All those dark thoughts, like rage, jealousy, and hate, disappeared.

Of all people, Micah was the one who noticed he was on the brink of losing his sanity. Not his teammates. Not his little brother. Why?

Why did Micah have to be the one who saw through him so easily?

Why was Micah doing this to him?

It made something twist painfully in Archie’s stomach. His anger had vanished, replaced by a mess of confusion and want. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know if he could even speak without blurting something stupid.

He found himself standing there, dripping wet, breath stuck in his throat, wanting Micah even more.

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