CHAPTER 544: BREAKFAST WITH THE UNINVITED CHORUS (PART TWO)

Micah shifted in his seat, turning slightly so he could face Clyde more fully. "So," he began, tapping his fingers lightly on his thigh, eyes narrowing. "When are you going to tell me about your dream?"

Clyde’s entire body went rigid for one heartbeat, shoulders tightening, spine straightening. But he quickly managed his expression. "Not now." His voice tried to sound casual, but it came out taut. "Lin Heye has made a fuss again. That’s why those two idiots had appeared here..." He pinched the bridge of his nose briefly. "Let’s go inside. I am afraid that if we stay out any longer, he will call half of Isatis city to come investigate. I’ll tell you about it tonight."

Micah watched him with a mix of suspicion and amusement before nodding. "Alright. I am worried about Darcy too, you know. Those friends of yours are so unpredictable."

He wasn’t wrong. Those people Clyde called friends were more like walking catastrophes. Micah had experienced their antics firsthand.

Micah’s gaze lingered on Clyde’s face. He couldn’t help it. He studied every little detail, the steady rhythm of Clyde’s breathing, the relaxed but not truly calm eyes, the way not a single trace of tears remained. The transformation was astonishing. He marvelled at how he could compose himself as if nothing had happened. No one would believe this man had been crying in Micah’s arms a moment ago.

Micah walked toward the restaurant, throwing a look over his shoulder. "Have you had breakfast?"

"No," Clyde said evenly. "I was too busy chasing after a runaway rabbit."

"Huh!" Micah scoffed so loudly a bird startled nearby. "How on earth do I resemble a rabbit?" He pointed at himself dramatically. "I am a wolf, a fierce one."

Clyde chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Micah’s hair. "Yeah. My bad. You’re not a rabbit but a wolf cub."

Micah slapped his hand away with a huff, even though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He pulled open the restaurant’s door and stepped inside. As they approached the room, voices drifted out, loud, unfiltered, and absolutely in line with Clyde’s friends’ level of decorum, which was none.

"Oh, so you are the one who’s been eyeing Clyde’s sweetheart?" Mason’s voice floated out with a gleefully malicious tone. "Not bad. Shows you’ve got enough gall to go after what’s his. I’d say your chances are slim, but hey, we won’t mind watching a good show. What do you think Clyde will do to him? Beat him up? Toss him out of the city?"

"Hey! Be nice!" Lin Heye snapped, sounding exasperated. "Don’t mind him," he added hurriedly, clearly speaking to Darcy.

"What are you getting angry for?" Mason shot back. "Isn’t he the one living with Micah? You told us a rival showed up. Then why else would we be here except...." His next words were cut off abruptly, muffled like someone had slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Enough with teasing!" Lin Heye barked. "Sorry. Sorry, he is not right in the mind, haha!" The forced, awkward laugh followed. "Dylon! Why won’t you entertain our guest when I put some sense into this dork’s head?"

"Sure. Go on." Dylon’s voice drifted out coolly.

The sound of a struggle, feet scuffing, a muffled protest, and then the door to the room suddenly swung open. Lin Heye burst out, dragged Mason with a firm grip over his mouth, the man stumbling out like a criminal being hauled by security.

The two froze upon seeing Clyde and Micah standing there. Lin Heye let out a squeaky, terrified laugh. "Oh, you are back."

Micah’s expression shifted instantly, lips twitching. He pressed them together to suppress the laugh, saving face for Clyde. This was priceless.

Clyde glanced coldly at the two, a deadpan stare that promised future retribution.

Lin Heye broke into a sweat that soaked through his collar. "I...I’ll go get something for you to eat," he blurted, then fled with Mason still in hand.

Micah couldn’t hold it anymore. He snorted loudly.

Clyde sighed, massaging his forehead as he stepped inside the room.

His eyes immediately landed on Darcy. The boy sat straight, without any discomfort on his face. Their eyes met from across the room.

Darcy raised an eyebrow.

Clyde knew what he meant. He walked over and sat down beside Darcy, leaning in slightly to whisper. "I am not ganging up on you. They are just too dramatic."

Darcy took a sip from his tea. "Mmm," he hummed in response.

Before Clyde could say anything more, Micah swept in and took the seat between them. "What are you two murmuring about?" he demanded, glancing expectantly between them, as if he would miss the fun.

"Nothing important. Did you two make up?" Darcy said, setting his cup down.

"Yeah. He groveled a little, so I pitied him and forgave him," Micah said arrogantly.

Dylon, who had been taking a sip of water, choked violently. His eyes went straight to Clyde’s knees.

Micah leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm as he stared at Dylon. "Hey, brother Dylon, are you alright?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.

Dylon coughed several times before clearing his throat. "Yeah. Yeah...It just went the wrong way."

"Do you want me to hit your back a few times?" Micah asked.

"Haha, nah. I am fine." Dylon quickly replied. He was worried Micah, this furious young master, would slap the hell out of his back instead.

"Oh, okay then..." Micah tapped his fingers on the table. "What’s new these days?"

"Nothing much. I finished composing a song for Starlight Entertainment. They wanted me to appear as a judge for their talent show too... but my manager is hesitant." Dylon said.

"Of course he is." Clyde chimed in flatly. "With your personality and idiocy... You’ll surely embarrass yourself."

"Hey! I am not that bad!" Dylon protested, slapping the table lightly.

Micah pointed at Clyde accusingly. "Yeah. Don’t talk like that about brother Dylon."

The entire table fell silent. Three pairs of eyes swung toward Micah.

Slowly. Like watching an impending disaster unfold.

"What?" Micah asked, blinking innocently.

Dylon swallowed. "I appreciate you standing up for me, but please don’t..." He darted a nervous glance at Clyde.

Clyde’s glare could melt steel.

"Since when did you two get chummy?" Clyde asked Micah.

"We always have been. Brother Dylon and I are kindred souls." Micah said, raising his chin. "I like being closer to him."

Dylon’s eyes widened in horror, nearly having a heart attack. He screamed inside his head. No, please no! Are you out of your mind? Do you want me to be brutally killed by Clyde’s hands?

He shook his head in refusal. "Haha. You jest," he said weakly, palms sweating.

Micah’s grin widened. "Say, if you are free, would you mind coming with me to my shooting?"

"What shooting?" Dylon asked, surprised.

"An advertisement for Ramsy Empire," Micah said.

Dylon stared at Micah, then at Clyde. "And he let you?"

Micah narrowed his eyes dangerously. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Dylon scratched his cheeks sheepishly. "I mean... if you become famous and all, he’ll surely panic." He laughed awkwardly.

Clyde didn’t answer. He didn’t even glare this time. He wasn’t in the mood for his idiotic friend’s antics anymore. His mind spun, trying to remember if Micah had ever stepped into the entertainment world in their past lives.

He ignored Dylon’s words, staring at his hands, thoughtful.

Meanwhile, Darcy watched them quietly, feeling out of place. Micah had always been like this. Charming. Loud. Easily blending with strangers, getting chummy, and even asking for a favour. Yet Darcy had been sitting here for over half an hour and had exchanged maybe two full sentences with Clyde’s friends.

Not that he wanted to get close to them, but the contrast was undeniable. In his past life, he had never known Dylon Parisi, the famous composer, to be Clyde’s friend. There were too many surprises in this timeline.

But one thing was common. All of them were here in support of Clyde. So why, in his past life, was Clyde always alone? Even his nephew, Dean, was not always with him.

His gaze flickered to the culprit. It was probably the result of Micah’s meddling. He had changed everyone and everything.