Chapter 160: Q&A Time For You

Roy opened his eyes and found himself standing before a door. It was no normal door. There were no walls attached to it. No frame rooted into stone. No ceiling above it. No floor beneath it besides the one directly underneath his feet.

Just a single wooden door standing upright within an endless abyss of darkness.

The darkness stretched forever.

It went upward and downward and beyond the horizon. An ocean of black without stars. Without wind. Without sound.

Roy looked at the door for a moment before stepping forward and pushing it open. The hinges made no sound; the door simply moved.

And beyond it was a little boy.

Nine years old.

Curled up tightly on the ground. His knees pressed against his chest; his small arms wrapped around his legs while his head was buried between them. The boy sat completely alone in the darkness, like he had been waiting there for a very long time.

Roy’s expression softened slightly with a small smile, and he walked forward.

His footsteps echoed despite there being seemingly nothing around them.

Then he stopped a few feet away and called out gently. "Roy."

The little boy flinched.

Slowly, he lifted his head. He had messy hair and tired eyes, a face that looked far too serious for a child.

The moment he recognised the older version of himself, however, his face immediately lit up.

The transformation was instant. It went from excitement to relief and finally anticipation.

Pure childish anticipation.

Like someone finally arriving to relieve him after standing watch.

"Really?" the boy asked.

The older Roy nodded. "It’s your turn."

The boy’s eyes practically sparkled. Without hesitation, he jumped to his feet.

The look of sadness and loneliness in his face vanished immediately.

He looked ready.

Ready to run, ready to relive. Ready to experience something.

Anything and everything.

He practically skipped toward the doorway.

Then—

"Roy."

The child stopped.

The older Roy stood motionless in the darkness.

For a brief second neither spoke.

Then the nineteen-year-old version smiled.

A genuine smile.

One that almost nobody ever got to see.

And he shouted, "Go make some good childhood memories!"

The boy froze as his hand rested on the edge of the door.

Slowly he turned around. For a moment his expression became serious.

Not childish. Not playful. Not excited.

But serious. Like he understood exactly what had been said.

Exactly what had been meant.

Then he nodded once. Firmly. Like a promise.

And the little boy smiled. Not Roy’s current smile, not the smile he learned later.

A child’s smile.

Pure. Uncomplicated. Hopeful.

Then he turned around and disappeared through the doorway.

The door shut, and silence returned.

The vast darkness swallowed everything once more.

Roy stood there alone. Once again, with no one around him.

Then he walked forward. In the middle of the endless void sat a single chair.

Nothing else.

Just a chair.

He sat down. Crossing one leg over the other and resting his elbow against his knee.

Then he looked forward.

No. Not forward.

At you.

Directly at you.

His eyes locked onto yours.

And for the first time in the entire story—

Roy spoke directly to you. "I am talking to you."

The darkness remained silent.

"Yeah, you."

He pointed.

At you.

Not someone else. You.

The one reading.

The one turning my pages.

The one following along.

"It’s question and answer time."

Roy leaned back. "It’s actually a very serious question."

His expression lost all traces of humour. "So read carefully."

Then he smiled slightly. "Ready?"

The abyss waited.

"Good."

Roy folded his hands together.

And asked:

"Are you content with your life as it is right now?"

Silence, a long one.

"Not happy."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Content."

The distinction mattered.

"Can you sit down with yourself, completely alone in a room, and say..."

He paused. "...I am satisfied with where I currently am?"

The darkness seemed somehow deeper.

He continued. "Not where you’ll be."

"Not where you might be."

"Not where you’re trying to get."

"Right now."

Roy leaned forward. "Are you content?"

Then he held up a second finger.

"Question two."

His gaze sharpened. "Are you happy?"

This time the question lingered longer.

Like it carried more weight. Maybe because it did, to him at least.

Because happiness was simpler.

And somehow infinitely harder.

Roy looked away briefly.

Toward nothing and toward everything.

Then back at you. "If somebody walked up to you today and asked..."

He inhaled slowly. "...’Are you happy?’"

His eyes met yours again. "What would you say?"

The abyss remained quiet.

Roy smiled faintly. "Personally?"

He looked upward.

As though searching for an answer. "As of right now..."

The darkness reflected in his eyes. "I don’t think I’m content."

His voice was calm.

Unashamed.

"I have people around me."

"Kieran."

"Brock."

"Graham."

"Tanaka."

"Liam."

The names continued.

One after another.

People.

Connections.

"I have things I never thought I’d have."

Yet he still spoke carefully.

Like stepping through fragile glass. "But contentment isn’t measured by what surrounds you."

His gaze drifted downward.

"It’s measured by what happens when everything becomes quiet. When no one is there..."

The darkness around him seemed to agree.

"When nobody is speaking."

"When nobody needs anything from you."

"When there’s no fighting."

"No distractions."

"No noise."

He paused. "In those moments."

His voice softened. "What do you see when you’re left alone with yourself?"

The question wasn’t rhetorical.

It genuinely wasn’t.

He wanted an answer.

Your answer.

Not someone else’s.

Yours.

Roy looked into the darkness.

Then back at you. "I think..."

He laughed quietly. "...I’m trying."

The admission felt more vulnerable than any confession. "I’m trying to become someone I’m content with."

His fingers tapped against the arm of the chair.

"I’m trying to understand people."

"I’m trying to understand myself."

"I’m trying to figure out whether all this effort actually means something."

A small smile appeared. "Though if you asked Graham, he’d probably tell you I’m overthinking."

The slightest laugh escaped him.

Then faded.

Slowly.

Returning him to seriousness. "As for happiness..."

His eyes wandered.

Remembering. Everything.

A warmth entered his expression. "I think."

He paused.

Then smiled. "I think I’m getting there too."

The darkness remained silent, but somehow it no longer felt empty.

Roy leant back on the chair and closed his eyes; he felt drowsy from all the sleepless nights where he couldn’t fall asleep. He never knew he felt so tired...

Sometimes he wished he could just sleep forever.