Chapter 178: Before He Falls Too Far
Micah stormed into the dorm room, his jaw tight and his footsteps loud against the floor. The door slammed shut behind him with a sharp bang that echoed down the hall. He didn’t care who heard. His mood was foul, and he had no energy left to pretend otherwise.
Without even glancing around, he yanked his bag off his shoulder and threw it toward the desk. It hit the chair with a loud thud and slid to the floor. His shoes came off next, kicked carelessly in different directions. One landed near the desk, the other by the closet.
With a loud sigh, Micah dropped face-first onto his bed, arms spread out like a fallen tree. His cheek was pressed against the pillow, but he didn’t relax. His shoulders were stiff, his back tense, and his fingers twitched against the sheets. The pillow muffled a long, frustrated groan.
At least the room was empty. Good.
He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Didn’t want to explain anything. He felt like punching something, maybe the wall, maybe the bed, maybe his own stupid thoughts.
"Clyde," he growled into the pillow. "That stupid man!"
His fingers curled into fists.
He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Then, with a huff, he sat up and grabbed his phone from his pants pocket. His thumb moved quickly, tapping open the search bar. His mind was racing too fast to think straight, but he typed one name: Charlotte Sullivan.
She had been his muse in high school. Bright eyes, graceful movements, that elegant way she carried herself. He used to sketch her for his designs. He remembered her features.
And director Allen... she looked so much like her. Too similar.
Micah’s brows knit together as he stared at the photos on Charlotte’s social media. His thumb scrolled slowly, pausing on a recent family picture outside their small clothing factory, Tanaz Production. His eyes narrowed.