Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Alaric

My mother held me quietly against her chest while the cold Monaco wind moved softly through the terrace around us.

Somewhere below the cliffs, waves crashed violently against the rocks, but even that sound felt distant compared to the chaos still pounding endlessly inside my head.

I hated everything about this moment.

I hated the tears burning against my face. I hated losing control in front of my family after spending years pretending that I was fine. Most of all, I hated that Dami had witnessed every second of it.

Humiliation curled heavily inside my chest, mixing painfully with the guilt that never truly left me no matter how many years passed.

And somehow, despite my mother trying to comfort me, despite her arms wrapped around me gently like she used to when I was younger, I still found myself craving something else entirely.

Someone else.

Someone who understood me in ways nobody else ever could.

Someone like Harold.

Or Nico.

The realization alone irritated me immediately.

I heaved out a shaky breath while pressing one trembling hand hard against my face, trying desperately to pull myself together before I embarrassed myself further.

"Everything is going to be fine," my mother whispered softly while rubbing slow circles against my back the same way she used to after my nightmares when I was younger. "I am sure Bastien did not mean it the way it sounded."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips immediately.

Of course he meant it.

Every single word.

"It is going to be alright," she repeated gently.

"No," I muttered hoarsely. "It is not."

My own voice sounded unfamiliar to me.

It sounded like years of buried emotions had finally cracked open tonight after being forced down for far too long. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Nothing was ever going to change between Bastien and me. Not when every single time he looked at me, all he saw was the boy responsible for destroying our family.

I wiped angrily at my face again before forcing myself to step slightly out of my mother’s embrace.

"He is right," I admitted weakly. "Maybe not everything he said, but some of it."

"Alaric—"

"I caused the accident."

The words came out quietly this time. I wasn’t defensive nor angry, I was just exhausted.

Because arguing about it felt pointless after all these years when the guilt had already rooted itself so deeply inside me that sometimes it felt impossible separating it from who I was anymore.

"It was not because of you," my mother insisted softly while tightening her arms around me again. "The brakes failed, Alaric. You do not have to keep blaming yourself for this."

"I was driving."

"You were not trying to kill your father."

Pain twisted violently inside my chest.

I immediately looked away toward the dark Mediterranean below us while guilt settled heavily inside me again like it always did whenever that night resurfaced.

The worst part was that I could barely even remember everything properly anymore.

Parts of the accident felt fragmented now.

It was blurry and broken like my mind had taken pieces of that night and buried them somewhere so deep that even I could not reach them anymore.

"I do not even remember everything clearly now," I admitted quietly after a moment. "Sometimes parts of it feel wrong. Like there are things missing."

My mother remained silent.

Slowly, I turned toward her properly.

"Mom," I asked carefully, "was I ever admitted somewhere after the accident? And I am not talking about my physical rehabilitation at Clinique de Montchoisi."

The reaction was immediate.

Her body stiffened ever so slightly before her expression carefully softened again.

My heartbeat immediately quickened.

"You were struggling mentally after the accident," she admitted quietly after a long pause. "The doctors believed it would help if you stayed somewhere private for a while."

So it was real.

That place actually existed.

The security guards earlier had not lied to me.

I swallowed hard before shutting my eyes briefly as fragmented memories flashed violently through my head again.

White hallways.

Rain against glass.

A splitting headache that felt unbearable.

Then Harold smiling softly down at me before everything disappeared again.

My stomach twisted painfully.

"Was my memory damaged somehow?" I asked quietly.

My mother sighed softly before moving around to stand directly in front of me.

"You went through severe trauma, Alaric," she answered gently. "There are things your mind probably tried protecting you from."

Protecting me.

The words echoed strangely inside my chest.

Because if that place was real, then why did nobody remember Harold?

Why did the security footage show me alone?

Why did everybody keep acting like Harold never existed?

My chest tightened painfully again at the thought.

I wanted to ask her directly.

I wanted to ask if she had ever seen Harold.

If she had ever spoken to him.

If he had visited me there.

But something stopped me.

Because some stubborn part of me still desperately needed Harold to be real.

Needed him to exist beyond whatever was happening inside my head.

Once dinner ended, I was going to call him.

I had to.

"Alaric, promise me one thing," my mother said softly while brushing her fingers gently through my hair.

I looked up at her tiredly.

"Do not hate your brother," she whispered sadly. "Bastien loved your father very deeply. Losing him changed Bastien. It changed all of us."

I immediately looked away again.

"So did surviving him," I admitted quietly.

Pain flickered briefly across her face.

For several long seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then she stepped closer before kissing my forehead gently.

"I know, my darling boy," she whispered softly. "And I hope one day you and Bastien become close again because I hate seeing my sons tearing each other apart like this."

Her voice weakened slightly near the end.

"I miss how things used to be before the accident."

Guilt twisted sharply inside my chest again.

"Please come back inside soon," she added gently. "Catherine planned this dinner for weeks because she wanted everyone together again."

I nodded quietly.

"Yes, Mom."

She smiled faintly before finally returning inside the villa, leaving me alone once again on the terrace.

I exhaled slowly before leaning heavily against the cold stone railing.

Monaco glittered beautifully beneath the night sky around me. Luxury yachts floated quietly across the harbor while expensive buildings illuminated the coastline in gold and white. Everything looked breathtaking from up here.

Perfect.

Meanwhile my chest still felt like it was collapsing inward.

I pulled my phone from my pocket tiredly, mostly hoping to distract myself from my thoughts for a few minutes.

That turned out to be a terrible mistake.

The very first thing waiting for me online immediately made my stomach twist violently.

Nico Park and Sophia Laurent spotted together after a private dinner in Monaco.

My jaw tightened instantly.

The headlines were everywhere.

"The Pair of the Year Returns?"

"Nico Park Takes the Rivalry Personally."

"Fans Speculate Wedding Bells for Monaco’s Golden Couple."

"Late Night Date Sparks Reconciliation Rumors."

A deep frown immediately formed across my face as irritation surged violently through me.

I scrolled through the photos silently.

Nico stood beside Sophia outside some luxury restaurant near Port Hercules while cameras flashed aggressively around them. Sophia looked beautiful as usual in an elegant black dress while Nico stood beside her looking calm and composed like always.

Like last night had never happened.

Something ugly twisted painfully inside my chest and I stared at the photos far longer than I should have.

Then another article appeared beneath the others.

Are We Looking at Monaco’s Next Power Couple?

I scoffed bitterly beneath my breath.

Even though Nico had assured me there was nothing happening between them, I still felt irrationally irritated looking at those photos.

It was not jealousy.

At least that was what I kept trying to convince myself.

Without thinking properly, I opened our messages and pressed call.

The phone immediately started ringing.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

There was no answer and it made My irritation worse.

I stared harder at the screen while my jaw tightened painfully.

By the fourth ring, humiliation started creeping in too.

The moment voicemail nearly connected, I hung up aggressively instead.

"Forget it," I muttered bitterly beneath my breath.

Why the hell had I even called him?

What exactly was I expecting?

Did I seriously crave his attention that badly already?

The realization alone annoyed me further.

I exhaled sharply before shaking my head and turning toward the villa again.

That was when my phone suddenly started ringing.

Nico.

I stared at his name flashing brightly across the screen while anger and something dangerously close to jealousy twisted violently together inside my chest.

For several long seconds, I genuinely considered answering.

But instead, I declined the call.

A few seconds later, my phone rang again.

Nico persisted and this time I ignored it completely.

Then another notification appeared almost immediately afterward.

Nico:

Pick up the phone.

I stared at the message silently before scoffing beneath my breath again.

Then I switched my phone off completely.

"See you in Saudi Arabia," I muttered coldly to myself.