Pitbabe S2, Chapter 15 pg6

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 15 pg6

   My whole body trembled, shaking so hard that Phii Alan snatched the phone from me and held it himself, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as if afraid I’d collapse right there.

   “What… what is he doing?” My throat was dry, my head spinning. I didn’t even know what I was feeling—shock, sorrow, or anger. Everything crashed into me at once, throwing my entire system into chaos. “What’s he saying?”

   “Babe,” Alan squeezed my shoulder tightly, trying to ground me. “Calm down.”

   “Is he crazy, Alan? Is he trying to kill himself?”

   Phii Alan didn’t answer. Judging by his expression, he was just as troubled. All he could do was shake his head and give me a look to stop panicking, even though we both knew this wasn’t something you could hear and just sit back relaxed about.

   This is a betrayal. Charlie is tearing up our promise. Two years ago, we agreed never to reveal anyone’s sense. Just me was more than enough.

   And now, everyone’s seen what it’s like to be special. It’s not just about being watched—it’s the expectations, the scrutiny, the desires, the envy, and the endless malice. Being special doesn’t just bring praise; it comes drenched in criticism and contempt, the kind that even death can’t fully clear you from proving innocent.

   Why is Charlie doing this? Why is he making himself a target?

   I really don’t understand.

   “I can steal other people’s senses… cool, right?” The more he talks, the worse it gets. Normally, Charlie isn’t like this. He hates revealing anything about himself to outsiders, no matter how small. If he can avoid it, he won’t say a word. Charlie once told me, “The scariest power in the world is information.” That’s why he’s so careful about giving that power to others. But today, this kid is sitting here blabbing about himself to thousands of people like it’s nothing, as if he’s tossed his brain out the window. “Right now, I’ve got all kinds of senses in me. I can do way more than people think. I’m not just good at racing.”

   Before, I only had to come to terms with the fact that Charlie was no longer my boyfriend. But I never imagined I’d have to grapple with the idea that he’s no longer Charlie. Is this how he felt when we broke up? He said he felt like he didn’t know me anymore, kept asking what happened, why I was like this, where the old me went. Back then, I didn’t fully grasp those questions, but now it’s clear. I understand the feeling of floating aimlessly in space, of knowing yet not knowing, unsure what’s real or not.

   I don’t know if the person I fell in love with was the real Charlie or the Charlie he wanted me to love.

   “Um… I’m only going to talk about myself today, okay?” Charlie said with a cold expression. I could tell someone must’ve commented asking about me. It’s always been like that—when people see me, they ask about Charlie, and vice versa. My name always comes up when he’s around. “Please don’t ask about other people.”

   “Other people.” That’s my new name, huh?

   I didn’t realize he didn’t even want to mention my name, especially after calling to say he missed me. Or was that just another act?

   “Have I changed?”

   I hate that smile. Charlie keeps grinning like he knows he’s the center of attention, aware that half the viewers aren’t even catching his words, too distracted by his unfamiliar new look—deep voice, charming smile, and the wide-collared shirt that flashes a glimpse of his chest every time he moves. My chest is burning. Everything about Charlie right now is driving me insane.

   “You think you know me well enough to say I’ve changed?” Every sentence he says to the audience feels like it’s directed at me. Even his gaze doesn’t seem like he’s looking at the phone screen. It feels like Charlie’s staring right at me. He’s saying things he’s always wanted to say but never had the chance, mocking me, showing off to make me realize I was never above him—he just let me think I was. “Truth can take many forms. Just because something’s different doesn’t mean what came before wasn’t real. It might just not have been its time yet.”

   “Charlie… has Charlie always been like this?” Phii Alan said, stunned. Even he probably can’t believe the nerdy kid who jumped for joy when he joined the team is the same as this slyly smiling guy.

   “I don’t know,” was all I could say. “I really don’t know.”

   “Did you know how many people in our country have special senses right now?” Charlie asked out of nowhere. This livestream is like his free-talk show—just sitting there, saying whatever he wants, interacting with viewers as much or as little as he feels like. Yet the viewer count shows no sign of dropping. According to Phii Alan’s latest check, Charlie’s name is now the most mentioned topic online. “About 1.9 million people. Nearly two million who might be able to hypnotize, see the future, revisit the past, detect lies, erase memories, or do countless things we can’t even imagine. Those people could be passing us on any sidewalk, with almost two million scattered across every corner of the country. But in percentage terms, those 1.9 million are just three percent of the population.”

   That’s information I vaguely recall. If I had to say it myself, I probably couldn’t pin down the exact numbers like Charlie did, but I’m pretty sure he told me about this once before, and I didn’t listen all that closely.

   “Almost two million people—kids, teens, adults, the elderly, men, women, every gender that exists today, living in different societies. They could be your friend, your boss, your customer, an acquaintance, a lover, or even family. People you see every day but never know what kind of senses they have. Nearly a hundred percent of those who hide their abilities don’t do it because it makes them feel special or because they want to keep their cool powers to themselves. They do it to protect themselves.”

   This might be the first time Charlie’s words truly sank in completely. This is what he’s been trying to tell me all along, but I only saw his passion, thinking, This kid’s so cool, Dean. How can he care so much about this stuff? I never once tried to seriously understand what Charlie was really trying to convey.

   “Being special puts you under society’s scrutiny. The ones who admire you are a handful at best. Most see you as a cheat, a danger, or some kind of tool that’s useful to them. Two years ago, there was news about a big-shot capitalist, Tony, trafficking kids with special senses. Everyone seemed fired up about it back then, but within two months, it was radio silence again. No one stopped to think, What happens next? Besides Tony, who else is doing this kind of business? What’s the fate of these people? Or when the government says they’ll support people with senses, is it actual support or just exploitation dressed up nice?”

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