Chapter 4: Please. Let me do this.
"You gotta be kidding me, Trish!" Whifler exclaimed, facing the window. He frustratedly massaged the bridge of his nose before turning to face her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Trish's brows furrowed in worry as she avoided his gaze. "I was about to, but I wasn't sure if he'd already overcome it, so I let you off."
"This is not good... How can he pretend if he has it? You know your daily routine involves crowds! This is torture for him!" Trish fell silent at Whifler's words. He was right. Tristan wasn't in a good condition to be her substitute.
"How did your mother propose this idea when she knew her son has a phobia?! For Christ's sake, this is driving me crazy!"
"Mom... Actually, she didn't know," Trish gloomily replied, making Whifler paused for a moment.
"I'm sorry, what?" Whifler asked, wanting to make sure he hadn't misheard her.
"Mom had no idea," Trish replied, fumbling with her fingers. "She knows nothing... Nothing at all."
"Are you serious?? For 21 years?!" Whifler was in denial at what he had just heard. How could a mother be ignorant of her child's struggles?
"She didn't listen or even pay attention to him. They don't really talk, either... I guess that's why," Trish answered. Sadness and pity were vivid in her tone, and her eyes reflected it all.
"Then, we'll let her know... Tristan should not carry this burden!" Whifler seethed and was about to leave the room, but he was surprised when he opened the door and saw Tristan standing outside.
"Tristan. Wh—"
"Don't... Don't tell her. I'll be fine," Tristan softly told him, which caused Whifler's irritation to ignite.
"Are you nuts?! What do you mean by 'FINE'? Do you know what you're saying?" he exploded, scolding Tristan, who was now silent with his head bowed.
"I know," Tristan replied after a short moment. "I'm really fine. I can do it."
"This is a serious matter, Tristan!"
"I am serious too!"
Whifler flinched when Tristan lifted his head and said those strong-willed words, looking directly at him. Tristan's eyes were full of emotion. Whifler couldn't fully distinguish it, but he could feel its intensity. Since meeting Tristan, this was the first time he'd seen such an obvious emotion on his face.
"Mom never talked to me properly as long as I can remember... That was the first time. It was the first time I saw an emotion in her eyes when she looked at me. And it felt so good. I'm so happy. I could feel her warmth..." Tristan clasped his pants, trying to stop his voice from cracking. "Please. Let me do this. I don't want to disappoint her. I... I am perfectly fine. I will handle this."
Whifler fell silent while Trish watched her brother with pain in her eyes. They could see the eagerness and determination in his eyes, and feel the burning desire that enveloped his soul. How could they refuse or argue with him in this situation? Tristan was too desperate.
Whifler could do nothing but let out a deep sigh. He massaged his forehead, trying to organize his thoughts.
"You all are driving me insane, honestly," Whifler said, then looked at Tristan seriously. "I see you really want to do this, so I have no choice but to give you a chance to prove yourself."
Tristan's face lit up. "Thank you."
"No. Don't thank me yet. I'll let you do this on three conditions," Whifler replied, which caused Tristan's brows to furrow and his face to drop in an instant.
"What conditions?" Tristan asked.
Whifler raised his index finger. "First, you must overcome your phobia within this week. Remember, you'll be out in public as Trish soon. Second, if you can't do the first one, at least learn to manage your emotions. And lastly, if you can't meet the first two conditions, you should quit. No more objections. Understood?"
Tristan's jaw dropped at Whifler's words.
"That... That's impossible."
"Impossible? I thought you could handle it? Look, Tristan. I don't intend to do something that will harm anyone. I'd rather lose millions than sacrifice someone's safety. I'm not that kind of person," Whifler said, placing his right hand on Tristan's shoulder. "Now, if you can't meet those conditions, just—"
"I agree. I agree. I can overcome it." Tristan interrupted Whifler, returning to his usual blank expression. "I will do better."
"Okay. It's settled then. You should rest now. We'll see my friend tomorrow morning. He's a mental health specialist," Whifler responded.
"Mom shouldn't know about this," Tristan said, disagreeing about seeing a mental health specialist. "I told you, I can manage it. I can do it on my own."
Whifler could sense his frustration. This was another thing he'd learned about Tristan. He might be unexpressive sometimes or always look emotionless, but he was still a short-tempered human being, and on top of that, stubborn as hell.
"No. You still need one. No one can survive a cliff without someone pulling them from the top. If you really want to do this, then do what I say," Whifler said, which put Tristan into silence.
"O-Okay," Tristan said, turning around and slightly opening the door. "I should rest now, right?"
Whifler nodded in response. They both heard his footsteps fading away, then silence wrapped the four corners of the room.
"Are you sure about this?" Trish asked, breaking the awkward silence.
Whifler turned to face her. "No. But you saw how eager he was. I couldn't let him down."
"But it's really impossible to overcome a phobia that easily, Raj," Trish said. Whifler sighed and sat beside her bed.
"All we can do is believe him, Trish. Also, don't worry—I'll do my best to help him," Whifler smiled.
"Promise me that." Trish lifted her pinky finger to seal the promise with Whifler.
"I promise," Whifler replied, locking his pinky with hers.
Trish felt relieved at his words. "Thank you, Raj."
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone